Chapter Text
Klavier was pacing up and down his hallway. It was the longest room he had, stretching the entire length of his modern, open-plan apartment. He needed to lose his nervous energy so he could sit down and do something – anything – but none of his usual stims were enough. Even playing the guitar wasn't enough. He felt like his entire body had to be in motion, or he'd burst.
It wasn't fair. He'd taken his ADHD meds like a good boy, and he still couldn't concentrate on a thing. He'd ended up having to leave work early because it was pointless staying at the office; he'd read a piece of paper and immediately forget what it said. His conscious mind was jumping between trains of thought, and he couldn't hold onto any of the ideas for more than a few moments before swinging over to the next one. He kept circling back to Apollo – Clay and Apollo – have they watched the video yet?
At least Vongole was having fun. The golden retriever was bounding alongside her master, not quite sure what he was doing, but enjoying exercising with him. Klavier had taken to throwing a soft rubber ball for her to fetch, one which was supposed to be safe for dogs and safe for use indoors, so that if he misaimed, he wouldn't break anything. He hoped. The ball squeaked, which was not helping his concentration span any.
He wanted Apollo. He wanted to talk to Apollo. He wanted to throw himself on the floor in front of Apollo and beg him for a date. It was stupid. He was stupid. His life was a disaster and his therapist would have a damned good laugh at his next appointment.
(She never had laughed at him before – at least, not in front of him – but there was always a first time.)
Unable to wait any longer, he pulled his phone out of his pocket and texted Clay.
Clay had just returned home after being unceremoniously thrown out of his best friend's apartment. It really was not like Apollo to get that upset over... well, anything. He did suffer from chronic anxiety and chronic second-guessing himself, but he hadn't ever taken it out on Clay before. Not like that.
Why was Apollo so stressed out? Was he genuinely upset over being recorded on his own computer, or was it something else? Was he bothered about having to watch the video of Gavin sleeping? He'd certainly seemed offended, first because of the singer's lack of clothing, but then because he felt that even famous people deserved a right to privacy.
It had been Klavier's idea to show him the video! The prosecutor had figured that, since Apollo constantly denied having any romantic attraction to him, setting up the webcam was the only way to get unbiased evidence. It was a good idea, except that like a lot of things, it didn't quite work when an Apollo was involved. Just like Klavier's attempts to flirt, come to think of it.
Did Apollo think that Clay was mocking him somehow? That he was joking, exaggerating, or had plain invented Klavier's affection for him? He wouldn't do that. He never had done that and never would. He would tease his best friend about having a crush on someone – expecting that 'Pollo would do the same to him if their positions were reversed – but he wouldn't pretend that another man found Apollo attractive if it wasn't true.
Why was 'Pollo so over-sensitive about Gavin?
Just then his phone buzzed and he grabbed it immediately, in case it was Apollo. It wasn't. The messages read:
How did it go with the video?
I have a burning desire to know!
Not feeling like talking to the cause of his first serious argument with Apollo since... college, at least, Clay chucked his phone across the room. If useful for nothing else, his advanced physics degree meant that he was pretty good at throwing objects without damaging them. Assuming that he wouldn't need to drive for the rest of the night, he stalked over to his fridge to get the one beer he was allowed by GYAXA.
Apollo was in a profoundly bad mood. He'd hung out with his best friend, expecting to spend some time catching up, and instead Clay had done nothing but needle him about his relationship with Prosecutor Gavin. Sure, the guy was famous, and for some reason Clay actually liked his awful music; but he hadn't expected his friend to invent the idea of the court rivals being desperately attracted to each other. That was Mr Wright and Chief Prosecutor Edgeworth territory, not something that happened to normal people. Which he was. Just a normal person, neither famous nor ridiculously beautiful.
How had Clay managed to intuit that he had a massive crush on Prosecutor Gavin? He kept it so well hidden! Why couldn't the overly flirtatious (fucking gorgeous) former rockstar not tease him in front of his fans for once? He knew that he was Klavier's favourite toy from how the other man's (beautiful blue) eyes lit up when he realised that they were on a case together, but that didn't mean that Clay had to go and take it seriously. He'd all but forced Gavin to invite Apollo out for drinks, when it was obvious that he was just playing like usual.
How the hell was he going to get through what sounded horribly like a date with the man of his dreams without making a complete fool of himself?
And now there was this video – apparently only on Apollo's own computer – showing what his face looked like when he looked at Gavin. He would rather die than watch it. Then again, wouldn't it be useful to find out just how stupid he looked, just in case he needed to... like, go buy a full-face masquerade mask before tomorrow? Maybe he could convince Gavin it was the new fashion.
It was worse than he feared. Skipping through most of the recording to the point where he'd seen the Gavinners' video (easy to find because it was when he'd stood up), Apollo watched himself and cringed. Apparently he gazed at Klavier Gavin with a near-constant blush on his cheeks and the expression of a relentlessly happy dog. The kind of slightly dim dog for whom absolutely everything is a treat in life. Going to the park? Best thing ever! Riding in the car? Best thing ever! Playing fetch? Best thing ever!
Klavier Gavin? Best thing ever!
Holy Mother, how was he supposed to face the man ever again knowing this?
The only consolation was that Gavin had to be used to people staring at him with that kind of idiotic expression, breathtakingly handsome as he'd been since his late teens. He clearly respected Apollo for his mind, always so keen to work together, actively seeking him out for help if they weren't on the same case. And if he was horrifically repelled by Apollo's face as he stared longingly at him, he hadn't said anything, just flirted harder.
Wait. That was a contradiction. If Klavier was repelled by the way Apollo gazed at him, he wouldn't flirt harder. So he couldn't find it abhorrent. Maybe he... liked it? Maybe he liked to make Apollo embarrassed? But that didn't make any sense either. Klavier wasn't his brother, who enjoyed having power over another person. He was a nice guy: he brought coffee, paid for lunches, and gave Apollo a ride to crime scenes wherever possible. He visibly enjoyed spending time with Apollo, brightening up whenever he saw him.
No. There was no question that he and Klavier were friends. Contrary to what Apollo had once thought, Prosecutor Gavin wasn't flirting with him to mock him. So why did he continue to flirt? It wasn't just to be friendly when he had so many other ways in which to show his affection. And why had Clay become convinced that each of them was attracted to the other after only watching them interact once? He was partly right – Apollo definitely admired Prosecutor Gavin – but what made Clay think that Gavin felt the same way about him?
He needed to turn his thinking around and look at the facts:
- Klavier flirted with women. Lots of women. Anyone from Trucy's age upwards.
- Obviously it didn't mean anything most of the time, especially when he charmed his young fans. That was just the rockstar thing.
- Most of Klavier's flirting was extremely casual: a flashed smile, a wink, or a brief kiss on the hand.
- And most of Klavier's flirting was in exchange for something. Information from witnesses, a private table at a restaurant, getting to skip the queue at a coffee shop...
- Klavier didn't usually flirt with guys. Apollo seemed to be an exception.
- Apollo was also the only person that Klavier flirted with regularly and/or seriously.
- Also, Klavier was really, really physically affectionate with Apollo. Not just smiles and winks, but touching him at every possible opportunity.
- That added up to three different exceptions. Well, shit.
If Gavin wasn't flirting with him to mock him, and it wasn't just to be friendly... Could it mean something? It certainly seemed like a possibility. What had Clay seen, again? He'd insisted that he'd seen Gavin staring at Apollo's butt, and been so certain of it that he'd told him, twice.
But Gavin was straight... Wasn't he? Sure, there was that Gavinners single called “My Boyfriend is the Prosecution's Witness”, but if it was supposed to be Gavin singing about his own boyfriend, shouldn't it be “My Boyfriend is My Witness”? Because he is the prosecutor? Apollo started to wonder if he was overthinking things. It wouldn't be the first time.
There was one easy solution to that question, at least. Heart in his mouth, Apollo typed “What is Klavier Gavin's sexual orientation?” into Google. (He was so polite that he didn't only use proper grammar and punctuation in text messages, he even did so in internet searches.) Page after page, interview after interview told him “bisexual”.
Well, damn. He really should apologise to Clay. And get his gaydar recalibrated, because it didn't seem to have noticed that the pretty man who kept flirting with him was actually into guys.
Come to think of it, that was the contradiction which had been bothering him all along. Why did Gavin even need to flirt with him? There was no reason on Earth for Klavier to be single, unless he wanted to be. Even if he hadn’t been a famous rockstar, he was kind, intelligent, talented, and absolutely flipping gorgeous. He could surely have any partner he wanted. And Apollo was pretty certain that Klavier did want a romantic relationship. He always seemed to be lonely, desperate for affection. Sometimes he even shook in Apollo's arms as they held each other.
...Or was the person that Klavier wanted to date too flipping dense to notice his interest? Holy Mother.
Apology phone calls were always difficult. Were it anyone else, Apollo might have left it until the next day, to give the other person time to cool down. But he knew that Clay wasn't going to be angry with him, just confused. Clay didn't know that Apollo had been trying to hide his crush on Klavier all this time because he'd been convinced that the rockstar was straight!
Apollo felt stupid for not taking advantage of Klavier's fame and checking up on basic things like his sexuality. Then again, Apollo constantly forgot that Klavier was actually famous. To him, he was just Prosecutor Gavin. The ridiculously sweet, handsome, and clever guy that he worked with, who just happened to be the younger brother of his former boss. The connection to Mister Gavin – Kristoph – was more real to Apollo than however many records Klavier's terrible band had sold.
Pacing around the room, Apollo thought about texting. He even drafted a quick text, but deleted it. This needed to be done in a voice call. He needed to face the music, which made him groan at his unintentional pun. Why exactly did Prosecutor Gavin have to be a musician, again? His finger hovered over Clay's contact information for a few moments before he sighed, and threw himself back onto the sofa. Putting Mikeko on his lap for emotional support, he dialed Clay.
The phone rang a couple of times, and his friend answered, cautiously. “Hello?”
“Hey. It's me.”
“Yeah, I know. I have this thing called caller ID.” Typical Clay sarcasm. Apollo couldn’t even begin to assess his mood.
“Right.”
There was an awkward silence, and then the two friends started talking at once.
“I'm sorry I made you watch that video.”
“I'm sorry I yelled at you and threw you out.”
Clay snorted. “Apology accepted.”
Apollo blinked. “What, just like that?”
“Sure.” Clay hummed, drawing out the word. “Unless you want to grovel down the phone for the next half-hour, at the end of which I grudgingly agree to accept you back into my heart, as long as you never do it again.”
“I'd rather not.”
“And I'd rather not have to do the same about the video. I should have realised that you were prickly about Prosecutor Gavin for a good reason.”
“Clay?”
“Yes, 'Pollo?” It sounded as though Apollo had something important to say.
“He's so goddamned fucking pretty!”
Clay didn't think he could remember his friend making such a high-pitched noise over a guy since they were both in high school. Possibly not even since their voices had broken.
“And I have to work with him, when all I want to do is...” Apollo seemed to realise what he was saying, choked a bit, and coughed. “Ahem.”
Clay wished he was in the same room to see the colour of his blush. “No, no, do go on. It was just getting interesting.”
“I hate you,” said Apollo, with no real anger to his words.
“You love me. Just not as much as you love Gavin.”
Apollo groaned. He said, more seriously, “Clay, answer me truthfully here. Did you really think that he was eyeing me up?”
How much convincing was Apollo going to need before he could believe it? “'Pollo, platonic love of my life, when you walked away from him, he stared at your butt. When you walked towards him, he stared at your lips. I'd say he is pretty damned smitten.”
“He can't possibly be flirting with me, he's like that with everyone.”
Apparently a large amount of convincing. Clay could shake all the people who had given Apollo abandonment issues. “Klavier was willing to talk with me, but he didn't flirt with me. He got very embarrassed about something he said which could have been misconstrued as flirting. And 'Pollo, I was totally fanboying at him. I might be straight, but I would absolutely hit that if I got the chance.”
“Don't call him ‘that’. It's really dehumanising, and God only knows he gets enough of that from the press and his fans.”
Clay smiled at Apollo’s vehemence, until he started up again with the low self-esteem.
“It isn’t that I disbelieve you. But why would someone who looks like Klavier be interested in me?”
“Apollo, my bestie, for an intelligent man you can be very stupid. You literally just answered your own question.”
“Huh?”
“You told me not to dehumanise him. To everyone else in the world, Klavier Gavin is a celebrity – a piece of meat on a poster. To you, he's a work colleague, a friend, someone you want to protect and keep safe. You noticed when he was upset, know about his anxiety – you care about him as a real person. Don't underestimate how attractive that might be to someone in his position.”
“Huh,” said Apollo again, in a rather different tone of voice.
“And he keeps asking you out for dinner or drinks. Surely that means something?”
“I thought it meant that he was lonely.”
“Maybe he is. But out of all the people he knows, it's you that he's choosing to spend time with.”
“Hmm...” Apollo still sounded uncertain.
Clay pinched the bridge of his nose. He'd had ten years of Apollo's stubbornness, and yet he could still be amazed by his friend's ability to shoot himself in the foot. “Look,” he said, “Go out tomorrow, have a good time with him and see how it goes. Either the two of you get closer as friends, or you end up with a sexy rockstar boyfriend. Sounds like a win-win situation to me.”
“Okay.” Apollo sighed and Clay could practically hear his slumped shoulders and drooping bangs. Finally! “I suppose I'd better get an early night then.”
“Good idea. Let me know how it goes, yeah?”
“Yeah. Talk to you soon, then.”
“Night!”
Clay sent a text to Prosecutor Gavin which read, rather cryptically,
Congratulations, dear Prosecutor, you have overcome the first hurdle.
From the speed of his previous responses, Clay expected Klavier to reply quickly; but he was still surprised when his phone rang in his hand. “Er, hello?”
“Hallo, it's, uh… me,” said a familiar, accented voice.
“Earth to Einstein, Gavin, give a guy a chance to sit down before you call. For all you knew, I could have been texting you from the bathroom!”
Gavin's end of the call went so very quiet that Clay could almost hear him freezing on the spot. “...Were you?” Klavier eventually choked out. There was a note of alarm in his voice, as though he didn't quite know what protocol to follow.
“No, as it so happens, but I could have been!”
“I'm sorry. I didn’t think.” Klavier sounded contrite. “I was just rather desperate to find out what your message meant.”
“It means that Apollo is definitely attracted to you, he's just been in some kind of weird Apollonian denial.”
Another long, silent pause. “Um… Would you mind being more specific?”
Clay sympathised with Gavin, he really did. It must be hell to be that pretty and still not be able to get laid. But he was tired and frustrated with both of the idiots. “Would you like to hear the part where he screamed at me and threw me out of his apartment?” he asked, flippantly.
Klavier cried out in pained empathy. “Oh mein Gott, is everything alright? Oh, Scheiße, you two have been friends for so long, I'm so sorry! So, so, sorry…” The horror and distress in his voice was real.
“Calm down, Princess,” replied Clay, a little forcefully. “We're fine. 'Pollo just really hated the video.”
“Oh.” Not like a proud rockstar at all. “...But you think he's attracted to me?”
“Oh yeah. He likes you. He hated the video. First he started screaming that I was trying to show him porn, as if we weren't all adults here, then he got weirdly bothered about the fact you were being filmed while you slept.”
“That video was hardly the worst loss of dignity I suffered while on tour.”
“Well, maybe, but Apollo got all protective of you. Said that even if you were famous, you deserved your privacy.”
“...Oh,” said Klavier, in a small voice. He gave a couple of shuddering breaths, as if trying not to cry. “Sorry. I'm sorry. It's just been so long since anyone remembered that I'm actually a human being, I…”
Clay remembered how anxious the prosecutor had been when they were talking in the courthouse. “It's okay, Gavin. Breathe.”
“Ja, ja. I've been, uh, pretty close to having a panic attack all afternoon, I think.”
To admit that, he must have really not been doing well. “Will you be all right? Should I ask Apollo to call you?”
Sounding more certain, Klavier replied, “I'll be fine, ja. I have a dog here, she'll take care of me.” There was a bark and a brief snuffle from his end of the call, followed by the sound of a tail energetically thumping against something. Clay heard him speak, presumably to the dog, in a cute, talking-to-animals voice. “Ja, ich meine dich, meine süße, kleine Vongi.”
Clay was still concerned. “Is there anything I can do to help?”
“There is… one thing.” He seemed more cheerful, a playful tone back in his voice.
“Yeah?”
Klavier chuckled. “Tell me what my fake name on your phone is. I've been wondering.”
“What? Why?!” Clay yelled, blasting the former rockstar's eardrums with his own Chords of Steel.
“Ach, I was only wondering. It isn't important.” Subdued again.
“No, no, I was just surprised by that sudden change in topic, that's all.” He genuinely was. Considering how sharp and on-the-ball Gavin had been in court that morning, and how he came across in interviews, his rapid mood swings and subject changes seemed, well, out of character. Couple that with the anxiety and...
“... I'm sorry, my mind is, uh, a bit chaotic at times,” muttered the prosecutor. He sounded rather ashamed.
Talking to Gavin was starting to remind Clay of talking to himself when it was late at night and his medication had worn off, but he didn’t think he could bring himself to ask the actual celebrity whether he had ADHD too. Instead, he said, placatingly, “It's okay. So do you just want the name or all the reasoning as well?”
“Oh, the reasoning, bitte!”
“Well, I started with Klavier Gavin… Switched it around to get Klavin Gavier… Turned ‘Klavin’ into ‘Kalvin’, which is actually a real name… then panicked because I didn't know what to do with ‘Gavier’.”
“So I'm Kalvin Gavier in your address book?”
“God, no, that's far too obvious if you're trying to hide the contact name from Apollo. I went with the first G surname I could think of, and got ‘Kalvin Gibson’.”
Klavier laughed, slightly hysterically, as if he needed to force out a laugh in order to calm down. “Ach, Gibson is a brand of guitar. I like it. Heh, if you made it ‘Kramer Gibson’, I could be two brands of guitar!”
“That’s cool, but I'm hoping that by tomorrow night I won't have to pretend that I don't have your number,” replied Clay, sincerely.
“I’m not sure that I can even imagine that far into the future,” admitted Klavier, softly.
“Hey, you need any help arranging this, uh, not-date tomorrow? I can tell you about 'Pollo’s likes and dislikes.”
“Nein, I don't think so.” The rockstar’s bright smile was audible in his voice. “I think by now I have a pretty good idea of what Apollo likes. Actually... I just realised that I need to make another call.”
“Okay, well… Good luck for tomorrow, I think the pair of you need it.”
“Danke,” replied Klavier. “I must go. Talk soon.” He hung up without waiting for a goodbye.
Clay stared at his phone in disbelief. It was absolutely awesome to find out that the Klavier Gavin was as weird (affectionate) as he was, but was he that exhausting to talk with? If so, it was a wonder that Apollo had never strangled him.
Klavier dug his fingers into the thick ruff of fur around Vongole's neck as he dialed another number. He'd been sitting on the floor ever since his legs had given up from too much running. At some point he needed to stand up and do something about dinner, but he was still too emotionally exhausted to move. Apollo's best friend had come into his life and caused a whirlwind of panic and emotions, and it hadn't even been 12 hours since they'd met, yet.
He lay down as the phone rang, resting his head on his Vongi's warm middle. Her warmth and breath comforted him with the knowledge that something else in his apartment was real and alive. The call connected, and he began to talk.
“Ja, hallo, Steven? It's me, Klavier. Listen, I’m going out with a very special friend tomorrow, and I need your help...”