PW, "The Slow Ascent after the Sharpest Drop: IX," Apollo/Klavier, NC-17
You probably wouldn't guess that getting a craft book would make fanfiction happen faster, but the way my brain is wired up, that's precisely what happened. I got a book on how to mod t-shirts (Generation T), got all excited, and bam! Wrote chapter nine of TSAATSD.
Only it wasn't chapter nine, it was chapter ten, but I didn't know that until I got started on writing what preceded what I'd written thanks to my excitement over the t-shirt book, so ... wait, where was I going with this?
Yeah I don't know. Here's chapter nine, it finally has some porny stuff in it, I think I'm starting to hate all of these characters, and sharp cheddar cheese is tasty. Cheers!
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 IX
by mistr3ss Quickly
Mr. Wright stays with Apollo only until Klavier's finished in the shower, then leaves early, citing an excuse about being home when Trucy's bus drops her off. It's not true-Apollo doesn't even really need to feel his bracelet tighten around his wrist to know that-but it keeps things peaceful, Klavier bidding the older man a cold farewell, not even bothering to walk him to the door.
"It's not Mr. Wright's fault that Kristoph gave us trouble, Klavier," Apollo says, when his lover snorts and says good riddance under his breath.
"Yes, I am very aware of that," Klavier snaps.
"Well you aren't acting like it," Apollo tells him. "You didn't even show him out."
Klavier sniffs and turns his back on Apollo, his voice muffled in the clothes hanging in the closet as he hangs up his suit. "I will not be seen showing another man out of our apartment while wearing nothing but a towel, Herr Manners," he says. "And since Herr Wright did not see fit to leave the bedroom when I came in, I could not very well dress to show him out, could I?"
Apollo feels his face heat, the raw edges of his burns stinging in response. "N-no," he says. "I guess not." He swallows. "Sorry."
The bed shakes, dipping under Klavier's weight. Apollo turns towards the movement, inhaling sharply in surprise when Klavier's bangs, still damp from the shower, tickle his nose, Klavier's mouth touching his, much closer much faster than Apollo had expected.
"Do not apologize, my dear, blushing Forehead," Klavier murmurs to him between kisses. "You have nothing to be sorry for. I should apologize; I have allowed my brother to upset me, and have taken it out on you."
Apollo shakes his head, reaching up to touch Klavier's shoulder-still bare, still damp-as he's kissed again. Tightens his fingers on the strong muscle shifting beneath them and opens his mouth for Klavier's tongue, moaning softly as Klavier kisses him deep, slow and careful. The skilled kind of kiss that had reduced Apollo to goo, early on. The kind of kiss he'd sought to learn how to give back, each time he'd received it.
"It's hard, seeing Kristoph like that," he says, when Klavier stops kissing him on the mouth, instead pecking a kiss onto the tip of his nose, then on his forehead. "I understand."
Klavier stops kissing. Sits back. "It is no excuse to treat you badly, baby," he says, softly. "You are injured enough, you do not need me or my brother adding to it with our treatment of you."
Apollo shrugs, the burns stretching over his shoulder scrubbing uncomfortably against the seam of his t-shirt. "Apology accepted, then," he says.
Gets kissed for it, Klavier whimpering softly as Apollo guides him forward, draws him down to nestle between Apollo's thighs. No longer deep, careful kisses. It's a hard kiss, instead. Deep and rough, an honest kiss. The sort of kiss Apollo managed to taste from his lover's mouth only after they'd made love the first time, Klavier shivering under him, holding him close and kissing him like he couldn't bear not to.
It makes Apollo's entire body feel hot, electric curls of pleasure darting down his spine. Makes his cock throb, stiffening in his shorts, the tip brushing against Klavier's knee as it hardens.
"I-I want-" Apollo whispers, when touches him, palming his erection through his shorts.
"Mmm? Tell me baby," Klavier says, voice deep and rich; flirtatious. "I would love to do it."
Apollo shivers. "T-touch me," he says. "And let me touch you, too."
Klavier moans. "Ah, if that is what you want," he says, "then that is what you will get."
He moves, shifting to Apollo's left, his legs spread in an unabashed show of his body's flexibility. Apollo moves with him, folds his left leg under himself, the right stretched out straight, his good hand feeling its way up Klavier's thigh, feeling the damp edge of the towel, the space where it parts, warm skin underneath. Feels Klavier's breath on his lips and opens his mouth for the kiss Klavier gives him, one of the singer's arms wrapping around him, hand pressed firmly against Apollo's spine.
He's hard. Slick already at the tip. His voice cracks on a moan when Apollo touches him, rocks his hips forward as far as he can when Apollo rubs the pad of his thumb over the slit, smearing precome over hot, tight skin.
Klavier shivers. "Baby, wait. Stop."
Apollo doesn't want to stop. Whines low in his throat when he moves his hand down to the root of Klavier's cock and only manages to squeeze once before the older man reaches down to stop him, one hand firm on Apollo's wrist.
"Kla-"
"Baby ... verdammt, wait." He can hear Klavier swallow, hear the older man's breath, coming fast. "Wait, I ... ah, that is, it has been awhile. I would hate to-"
Apollo laughs, the sound escaping him before he can reign it in. "S-seriously?" he says.
Klavier shifts, legs hushing in the cotton sheets. "Well," he says, "you have not been ... that is to say; I have not had many opportunities for relief, ja?"
"Ja," Apollo echoes. He shakes his lover's hand off his arm, drags his hand up to the head of the man's cock, precome pooling in the slit, spilling down over his fingers. "Then we'll, um ... just have to do it again if you, uh, come too soon. Right?"
Klavier sighs and kisses him, lips curved in a smile when Apollo leans towards them, taking the kiss long. Rubs his palm over Apollo's cotton-covered erection, his rhythm turning more desperate and less controlled as Apollo touches him. Fast and not too tight, palm twisting over the head every few strokes, exactly how Apollo had seen Klavier do it, the first few times they'd drunk enough together, losing the inhibitions which had previously kept them clothed around each other, each pretending not to notice the other's arousal.
"Baby," Klavier says, when the friction begins building, enough for him to pull away from the kiss and hump Apollo's hand. "I think I-I am ... ah, baby, stop, I will finish before you are even out of your cloth-ngh~"
He stiffens, forehead dropping to rest on Apollo's shoulder. Shudders hard, hips jerking, and comes, moaning brokenly as Apollo strokes him through it, making a mess of the towel above and the sheets below, semen smearing across the younger man's hand and wrist. Goes limp afterwards, panting, his breath warm through Apollo's t-shirt, his movements sluggish when he pushed himself up, using his towel to clean his lover's hand.
"I apologize," he says, cleaning himself and tossing the towel aside to land in a wet heap beside the bed. "That was, ah ... unexpectedly good."
Apollo can feel himself blushing. Pulls Klavier close for a kiss.
"Good," he says. "I'm glad it was, um. Good."
He's still hard. Wet, through the fabric of his shorts.
Klavier grins into their kiss. "Lie back and let me do better, baby," he says. "It was my original intention to make you feel good, after all."
A thrill sparks down Apollo's spine. His cock twitches.
"Okay," he says, scooting down the bed, his lover's hands busy divesting him of his shorts and underwear. "That sounds good to me."
~*~*~*~
The first time Apollo allowed Klavier to bring him to orgasm, he was exhausted and inebriated and riding the high of being naked in another man's bed with a male partner who seemed to want nothing more than the freedom to touch him and kiss him and make him feel good. He'd come in Klavier's hands with Klavier's tongue in his mouth, arched his back far enough that it had been sore for the better part of the following day. And then, as soon as he'd been pumped dry, he'd fallen asleep, too wrung out and satisfied even to return the favor to the man who'd made him feel so good.
Much has changed, since then, but not Apollo's tendency to sleep after orgasm. Which Apollo has never really minded, much, partly because Klavier tells him often how much he loves to see his "little lover" sleeping so contentedly, afterwards, and partly because he figures it's only fair to get some sleep, if he has enough time to get off.
~*~*~*~
It isn't long after his orgasm that Apollo wakes, groggy and sticky and nude only from the waist down, his t-shirt a little sweaty where he's slept, curled up on his side. He touches himself, belly to groin to thigh. Wrinkles his nose at the feel of wetness, semen and saliva, smeared on his skin.
"Klavier?" he says.
No response. Footsteps, far away, probably in the sitting room. Klavier's voice, speaking softly.
Apollo sighs and climbs out of bed. Finds with his foot the cold, semen-wet towel his lover tossed aside and swallows a curse. Moves as silently as he can out of the bedroom, into the hall.
"Nein, he did not. But it hardly matters. We will-ah? Ja, my thoughts exactly. Give it to the police."
A pause. Apollo waits, palm sweaty against he wall.
"I ... yes, I do believe him. But it is not worth the trauma to Herr Justice, ja? He has been through enough. Ja."
Realization sinks heavy like a stone in the pit of Apollo's stomach. He curls his fingers, his hand tightening into a fist.
"Well, we can always discuss this with the judge. I would like to-yes I know, but you do not honestly expect that-"
Silence. A heavy, frustrated sigh. Apollo's stomach churns, pushes up into his throat.
"Ah, Herr Wright. This is a discussion for another day, ja?" A soft laugh. "Ja. Well then I shall go and check on him. Mmm-hmm."
Every hair on the back of Apollo's neck rises, his heart beating fast as he turns and makes his way back towards the bedroom, instincts warring between speed and silence. Six steps to the door-frame. Four to his side of the bed. One more before his foot finds the towel again, tripping him. He falls, rubs the burns on his jawline hard against the side of the mattress.
He's not crying, when Klavier finds him, half a minute later. Not shaking and stammering and clinging to his lover while the man curses in German and apologizes for not being there when Apollo woke. Not grateful for the honest worry in Klavier's voice, the tenderness with which Klavier touches him, medicating the places where his burns have rubbed raw, soothing him where the adrenaline has yet to leave his system.
He's furious. Exhausted. Betrayed.
"Lie down, baby," Klavier says. "You are worn out from the day, you need to rest."
Apollo does as he's told, mind racing, heart still thumping hard. Finds Klavier's wrist with his hand and pulls, when the older man tries to pull away. Turns his face towards the sound of his lover's breathing, doesn't blink.
"Stay?" he says. "Please?"
Klavier sighs and bends, kissing him on the forehead. Touches Apollo's cheek with his free hand, thumb rubbing just to the side of the corner of Apollo's mouth.
"Of course, baby," he says. "I would hate for you to be lonely."
Apollo swallows. "Yeah," he says.
I'd hate for you to think you could sneak off again, he doesn't say.
The bed shakes as Klavier stretches out beside him, the sheet catching under his hip when Klavier tries to cover them both. He closes his eyes when Klavier kisses him, keeps them closed until Klavier has gone to sleep, snoring softly beside him.
Only then, wide awake in the darkness of his own mind, does Apollo begin to plan.
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Only it wasn't chapter nine, it was chapter ten, but I didn't know that until I got started on writing what preceded what I'd written thanks to my excitement over the t-shirt book, so ... wait, where was I going with this?
Yeah I don't know. Here's chapter nine, it finally has some porny stuff in it, I think I'm starting to hate all of these characters, and sharp cheddar cheese is tasty. Cheers!
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 IX
by mistr3ss Quickly
Mr. Wright stays with Apollo only until Klavier's finished in the shower, then leaves early, citing an excuse about being home when Trucy's bus drops her off. It's not true-Apollo doesn't even really need to feel his bracelet tighten around his wrist to know that-but it keeps things peaceful, Klavier bidding the older man a cold farewell, not even bothering to walk him to the door.
"It's not Mr. Wright's fault that Kristoph gave us trouble, Klavier," Apollo says, when his lover snorts and says good riddance under his breath.
"Yes, I am very aware of that," Klavier snaps.
"Well you aren't acting like it," Apollo tells him. "You didn't even show him out."
Klavier sniffs and turns his back on Apollo, his voice muffled in the clothes hanging in the closet as he hangs up his suit. "I will not be seen showing another man out of our apartment while wearing nothing but a towel, Herr Manners," he says. "And since Herr Wright did not see fit to leave the bedroom when I came in, I could not very well dress to show him out, could I?"
Apollo feels his face heat, the raw edges of his burns stinging in response. "N-no," he says. "I guess not." He swallows. "Sorry."
The bed shakes, dipping under Klavier's weight. Apollo turns towards the movement, inhaling sharply in surprise when Klavier's bangs, still damp from the shower, tickle his nose, Klavier's mouth touching his, much closer much faster than Apollo had expected.
"Do not apologize, my dear, blushing Forehead," Klavier murmurs to him between kisses. "You have nothing to be sorry for. I should apologize; I have allowed my brother to upset me, and have taken it out on you."
Apollo shakes his head, reaching up to touch Klavier's shoulder-still bare, still damp-as he's kissed again. Tightens his fingers on the strong muscle shifting beneath them and opens his mouth for Klavier's tongue, moaning softly as Klavier kisses him deep, slow and careful. The skilled kind of kiss that had reduced Apollo to goo, early on. The kind of kiss he'd sought to learn how to give back, each time he'd received it.
"It's hard, seeing Kristoph like that," he says, when Klavier stops kissing him on the mouth, instead pecking a kiss onto the tip of his nose, then on his forehead. "I understand."
Klavier stops kissing. Sits back. "It is no excuse to treat you badly, baby," he says, softly. "You are injured enough, you do not need me or my brother adding to it with our treatment of you."
Apollo shrugs, the burns stretching over his shoulder scrubbing uncomfortably against the seam of his t-shirt. "Apology accepted, then," he says.
Gets kissed for it, Klavier whimpering softly as Apollo guides him forward, draws him down to nestle between Apollo's thighs. No longer deep, careful kisses. It's a hard kiss, instead. Deep and rough, an honest kiss. The sort of kiss Apollo managed to taste from his lover's mouth only after they'd made love the first time, Klavier shivering under him, holding him close and kissing him like he couldn't bear not to.
It makes Apollo's entire body feel hot, electric curls of pleasure darting down his spine. Makes his cock throb, stiffening in his shorts, the tip brushing against Klavier's knee as it hardens.
"I-I want-" Apollo whispers, when touches him, palming his erection through his shorts.
"Mmm? Tell me baby," Klavier says, voice deep and rich; flirtatious. "I would love to do it."
Apollo shivers. "T-touch me," he says. "And let me touch you, too."
Klavier moans. "Ah, if that is what you want," he says, "then that is what you will get."
He moves, shifting to Apollo's left, his legs spread in an unabashed show of his body's flexibility. Apollo moves with him, folds his left leg under himself, the right stretched out straight, his good hand feeling its way up Klavier's thigh, feeling the damp edge of the towel, the space where it parts, warm skin underneath. Feels Klavier's breath on his lips and opens his mouth for the kiss Klavier gives him, one of the singer's arms wrapping around him, hand pressed firmly against Apollo's spine.
He's hard. Slick already at the tip. His voice cracks on a moan when Apollo touches him, rocks his hips forward as far as he can when Apollo rubs the pad of his thumb over the slit, smearing precome over hot, tight skin.
Klavier shivers. "Baby, wait. Stop."
Apollo doesn't want to stop. Whines low in his throat when he moves his hand down to the root of Klavier's cock and only manages to squeeze once before the older man reaches down to stop him, one hand firm on Apollo's wrist.
"Kla-"
"Baby ... verdammt, wait." He can hear Klavier swallow, hear the older man's breath, coming fast. "Wait, I ... ah, that is, it has been awhile. I would hate to-"
Apollo laughs, the sound escaping him before he can reign it in. "S-seriously?" he says.
Klavier shifts, legs hushing in the cotton sheets. "Well," he says, "you have not been ... that is to say; I have not had many opportunities for relief, ja?"
"Ja," Apollo echoes. He shakes his lover's hand off his arm, drags his hand up to the head of the man's cock, precome pooling in the slit, spilling down over his fingers. "Then we'll, um ... just have to do it again if you, uh, come too soon. Right?"
Klavier sighs and kisses him, lips curved in a smile when Apollo leans towards them, taking the kiss long. Rubs his palm over Apollo's cotton-covered erection, his rhythm turning more desperate and less controlled as Apollo touches him. Fast and not too tight, palm twisting over the head every few strokes, exactly how Apollo had seen Klavier do it, the first few times they'd drunk enough together, losing the inhibitions which had previously kept them clothed around each other, each pretending not to notice the other's arousal.
"Baby," Klavier says, when the friction begins building, enough for him to pull away from the kiss and hump Apollo's hand. "I think I-I am ... ah, baby, stop, I will finish before you are even out of your cloth-ngh~"
He stiffens, forehead dropping to rest on Apollo's shoulder. Shudders hard, hips jerking, and comes, moaning brokenly as Apollo strokes him through it, making a mess of the towel above and the sheets below, semen smearing across the younger man's hand and wrist. Goes limp afterwards, panting, his breath warm through Apollo's t-shirt, his movements sluggish when he pushed himself up, using his towel to clean his lover's hand.
"I apologize," he says, cleaning himself and tossing the towel aside to land in a wet heap beside the bed. "That was, ah ... unexpectedly good."
Apollo can feel himself blushing. Pulls Klavier close for a kiss.
"Good," he says. "I'm glad it was, um. Good."
He's still hard. Wet, through the fabric of his shorts.
Klavier grins into their kiss. "Lie back and let me do better, baby," he says. "It was my original intention to make you feel good, after all."
A thrill sparks down Apollo's spine. His cock twitches.
"Okay," he says, scooting down the bed, his lover's hands busy divesting him of his shorts and underwear. "That sounds good to me."
~*~*~*~
The first time Apollo allowed Klavier to bring him to orgasm, he was exhausted and inebriated and riding the high of being naked in another man's bed with a male partner who seemed to want nothing more than the freedom to touch him and kiss him and make him feel good. He'd come in Klavier's hands with Klavier's tongue in his mouth, arched his back far enough that it had been sore for the better part of the following day. And then, as soon as he'd been pumped dry, he'd fallen asleep, too wrung out and satisfied even to return the favor to the man who'd made him feel so good.
Much has changed, since then, but not Apollo's tendency to sleep after orgasm. Which Apollo has never really minded, much, partly because Klavier tells him often how much he loves to see his "little lover" sleeping so contentedly, afterwards, and partly because he figures it's only fair to get some sleep, if he has enough time to get off.
~*~*~*~
It isn't long after his orgasm that Apollo wakes, groggy and sticky and nude only from the waist down, his t-shirt a little sweaty where he's slept, curled up on his side. He touches himself, belly to groin to thigh. Wrinkles his nose at the feel of wetness, semen and saliva, smeared on his skin.
"Klavier?" he says.
No response. Footsteps, far away, probably in the sitting room. Klavier's voice, speaking softly.
Apollo sighs and climbs out of bed. Finds with his foot the cold, semen-wet towel his lover tossed aside and swallows a curse. Moves as silently as he can out of the bedroom, into the hall.
"Nein, he did not. But it hardly matters. We will-ah? Ja, my thoughts exactly. Give it to the police."
A pause. Apollo waits, palm sweaty against he wall.
"I ... yes, I do believe him. But it is not worth the trauma to Herr Justice, ja? He has been through enough. Ja."
Realization sinks heavy like a stone in the pit of Apollo's stomach. He curls his fingers, his hand tightening into a fist.
"Well, we can always discuss this with the judge. I would like to-yes I know, but you do not honestly expect that-"
Silence. A heavy, frustrated sigh. Apollo's stomach churns, pushes up into his throat.
"Ah, Herr Wright. This is a discussion for another day, ja?" A soft laugh. "Ja. Well then I shall go and check on him. Mmm-hmm."
Every hair on the back of Apollo's neck rises, his heart beating fast as he turns and makes his way back towards the bedroom, instincts warring between speed and silence. Six steps to the door-frame. Four to his side of the bed. One more before his foot finds the towel again, tripping him. He falls, rubs the burns on his jawline hard against the side of the mattress.
He's not crying, when Klavier finds him, half a minute later. Not shaking and stammering and clinging to his lover while the man curses in German and apologizes for not being there when Apollo woke. Not grateful for the honest worry in Klavier's voice, the tenderness with which Klavier touches him, medicating the places where his burns have rubbed raw, soothing him where the adrenaline has yet to leave his system.
He's furious. Exhausted. Betrayed.
"Lie down, baby," Klavier says. "You are worn out from the day, you need to rest."
Apollo does as he's told, mind racing, heart still thumping hard. Finds Klavier's wrist with his hand and pulls, when the older man tries to pull away. Turns his face towards the sound of his lover's breathing, doesn't blink.
"Stay?" he says. "Please?"
Klavier sighs and bends, kissing him on the forehead. Touches Apollo's cheek with his free hand, thumb rubbing just to the side of the corner of Apollo's mouth.
"Of course, baby," he says. "I would hate for you to be lonely."
Apollo swallows. "Yeah," he says.
I'd hate for you to think you could sneak off again, he doesn't say.
The bed shakes as Klavier stretches out beside him, the sheet catching under his hip when Klavier tries to cover them both. He closes his eyes when Klavier kisses him, keeps them closed until Klavier has gone to sleep, snoring softly beside him.
Only then, wide awake in the darkness of his own mind, does Apollo begin to plan.
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