Chapter Text
One petal.
One blistering red petal.
When Clay first coughed it up, he was taken aback. He knew exactly who he loved. Who he thought shined brighter than every single star in the sky. Who he’d want to spend every waking moment with as long as he was on Earth.
Apollo Justice.
His best friend.
The worst type of friendzone.
At least he only realized his feelings AFTER the x-ray for the recruitment. Having hanahaki would’ve killed his chances of space travel.
Every single day of training became harder and harder.
Heaved breaths came out of him, struggling to keep the petals inside until he could puke them all out in the bathroom. Meals became much more of a chore as well; no one spoke about how he felt the red rose’s thorns prick at his internal organs.
Calling Apollo made it worse.
The astronaut would promise himself to confess every time, but he never worked up the courage to do so. And he’s normally the one to show affection. His throat felt as if the vines were trying to wrench the confession out. But he held back every single time.
More red petals. A cough into his sleeve with a bloodstain.
But still, he stared at his drained body in the mirror. Blood trickling down his chin, a trembling chest with shaky breaths, a husk of his former self. And still, he shut Apollo out.
Clay stopped video calling his best friend two months by now. He stopped normal calls a month ago. He hadn’t even texted in a few days.
The mission is tomorrow, and he can’t even confess. Dying in space doesn’t sound half bad.
But that isn’t possible either.
Tomorrow’s mission is fake, and he’ll be hailed as the hero who saved Mr. Starbuck from certain doom.
His phone dings with a familiar tune from outside the bathroom. Clay hacks up more red rose petals into the sink.
Someone pounds on his door.
Shit. He isn’t expecting anyone to come tonight, and Apollo always texts before knocking.
“Clay? Clay?!”
“AJ, not right now!” He croaks.
Opening the door is not an option. Confessing isn’t an option. The surgery isn’t even an option at this point.
Clay accepted his doomed fate a long time ago.
Why?
That first petal showed up because Apollo had screamed about finally scoring a date with a literal celebrity. A rockstar. The perfect boyfriend.
Apollo doesn’t and will never feel the same way. Not with Klavier around.
The roots in his stomach viscerally rip through his insides, at least that’s how it feels.
“Clay, you leave for space tomorrow! And you haven’t called or texted me!” He wipes his mouth on his sleeve and exits the bathroom and walks toward the entrance. “What’s with you?!”
“Nothing! Now, leave!” The afflicted yells at the closed door.
“If I know you, assteroid, you’re LYING!”
His arm wants to reach for the door to open it. To kiss Apollo fervently and finally confess. Clay yanks it back.
“I can tell you everything after HAT-2.”
He chooses his words carefully. At least Apollo can’t perceive what’s wrong.
“After?! You’ll be in SPACE! Tell me now!” The attorney’s chords of steel crack.
If he wants the truth so bad, he’ll get it.
“FINE, APOLLO! YOU WANT IT RIGHT NOW?!” He slams his fist against the locked door. “I don’t want to be your best friend anymore!”
Clay knows what he could say next. He bites his tongue. More blood.
Apollo’s fierce gaze is tangible even through the door. “SAY THAT TO MY FACE, CLAY TERRAN!”
Being the attorney’s best friend means he knows exactly when the other is crying. Right now is one of those times.
In one fell swoop, he unlocks the door to find his best friend alone. Just as he predicted, Apollo is a teary-eyed mess.
“I don’t want to be your best friend anymore, Apollo Justice.” He says with gritted teeth.
“Liar! You’re not telling the full truth! And you look like total shit!!” Apollo grasps Clay’s biceps firmly. “What is with you?!”
The touch is enough. He can’t prolong this any more or else that fate he’d accepted will be set into motion.
Maybe that doesn’t have to be.
Maybe there is hope.
With that, red petals rise to his throat. He coughs them up. Shit, more blood too.
“H...” As the petals fall, Apollo’s pupils shrink. “Hanahaki. That’s why you wouldn't text me?! This is curable, dumbass!”
“God, why wouldn’t I tell YOU I had this stupid disease?! One fucking reason, AJ!” Tears spill from his eyes. Even though the attorney is frozen, the confession is spilling out of his mouth like the petals that plague him.
“I’m in love with you. I’ve been in love with you for so long. And I know, you have Klavier, but I had to tell you-“
His insides are eased when his best friend crashes their lips together. It’s as if the flowers withered and as if the roots constricting him have been disintegrated.
Clay truly smiles for the first time in months.
“God, that date went terrible!” The attorney complains after pulling away. “We were totally incompatible! And he realized I was only interested in you!”
The astronaut laughs hoarsely. “You’re that dense? Someone else had to tell you about your own feelings?”
“Oh, shut up!”
Clay’s hands drift to the other’s cheeks, wiping the tears away.
“Just so we’re clear,” The astronaut lifts Apollo’s chin to make eye contact. “You love me the way I love you, right?”
“Of course, I love you! I’ve loved you since we were kids! Probably!”
The attorney’s unsure statement makes him chuckle. “That makes tomorrow so much harder. Well. Kind of.”
“What do you mean, kind of?” Apollo cocks his head.
“Just come inside,” He takes a deep breath for the first time in months. Having clear lungs is a blessing. “This is the first time I’ve been craving a meal in a while. Plus, since I’m confessing everything, I’ll tell you what’s actually happening tomorrow.”
“So instead of cuddling, I have to cook for you?”
“C’mon, Polaris, humor me?”
“Polaris?”
“Technically, I should call you Stella Polaris. I’m just lazy. My north star. My guiding light back home.” He kisses Apollo again.
“You want me to go back to asstorney?”
“Nah.” The attorney drags Clay inside the apartment in another kiss, the door closing behind them.
Halfway through, Apollo pulls away with a disgusted face. Clay’s face falls until he tastes his own blood in his mouth. “Okay, before we kiss any more, please get some water.”
He nods diligently and runs to the bathroom, letting the water run as he wipes his chin with a face towel. When he spits into the sink, one final foreign object comes out of his mouth.
One blistering red petal.
One petal.