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It had been a few hours now, staring uncomfortably at the ceiling. Too warm, too cramped. Apollo always knew he'd be tense when he tried to sleep around other people, a weird self-conscious fear that kept sleep painfully at bay from hearing others in his space, and now appeared to be no exception. Not even the knowledge that he knew the people he was around would ease his anxiety- in fact, it only made it worse.
To his left, snuggled up into his side lay his best friend, Clay Terran, snoring away peacefully. He'd come straight from training at the space center, and despite his energy earlier, he all but crashed the moment he let his eyes slip shut.
To his right, sandwiching him effectively lay the couch. It had been a cool welcome retreat about half an hour ago before his wandering arm had used up all the cold bits of floor he dared to venture to. But it was fine, really. Apollo didn't have anything against the couch personally, but he was absolutely terrified of waking the man sleeping on it, whose arm had snuck off the edge to land a limp wrist against his chest barely ten minutes ago.
When Clay had insisted Apollo extend an invitation to Rock-God-Prosecuting-Prodigy (well, ex rocker at least) Klavier Gavin, Apollo'd almost yelled at him. He did laugh, but Clay made some very scathing and spot-on remarks about how well the two attorneys seemed to get along during trials, and all but bent his arm to shoot the prosecutor a reluctant text.
Of course, Klavier had agreed with enthusiasm, and not too soon after Apollo had been watching with morbid disdain as his best friend and colleague mingled. They got along almost frighteningly despite their differences, and most of the night had been spent teasing the shorter, grumpier man about it.
Klavier had accepted the couch smugly after a heated round of rock paper scissors, and Apollo had noticed the man's head drooping after a lazy session of pre-sleep gossip. He was a surprisingly sound sleeper, and he'd slept through both his own body careening to the side to end with him face first in the couch and Clay setting up where the two losers would sleep.
In the beginning, Clay had been positioned far to Apollo's left, at the edge of the spread out inflatable double, but Apollo had been awake to witness and experience the man slowly rolling his way over to crush him against the furniture.
Clay was a cuddler. Apollo knew this, but it still had been the icing on his anxiety induced night. He kept thinking with dread that if he'd only gotten up before he was in this mess and taken his bed instead of insisting to stay out here...
To make it all that much worse, Apollo had to pee, and there was no way of getting up without waking one, if not both, of his sleeping companions.
He could always sleep, he told himself bitterly, but every time he closed his eyes his thoughts kept racing, kept honing in on the deep breathing and sleep induced movements. It was torture, and he was still as wide awake as he had been when he first laid down. He'd regret everything in the morning with even more vehemence, but as he was right now, he could handle it. He could handle staring at the clock on the far wall, counting the minutes up to four am, listening to the sleep around him. He was okay with that.
He hadn't been okay, however, when Clay, sleeping and stupid to reality, curled up closer to him, pushing him further against the couch and jostling the tan arm just enough to cause it, too, to sleepily shift up to Apollo's face. He'd turned his head, mortified, and ended up with long fingers tangling into his hair.
His heart beat so hard in his chest that for an excruciating fifteen minutes, Apollo lay there with short, quiet breaths, praying neither would wake up. When twenty minutes had passed by silently he allowed himself to relax, the embarrassment at being cornered into such a situation adding a fresh layer of vinegar to his frown.
He was never going to be coaxed into sleeping out here again, that's for sure, Apollo'd tell himself, wistfully thinking of his bedroom, his bathroom, no fears of waking up anyone but his cat. He was sure the calico was all curled up on his sheets, warm and comfortable and free to stretch to his heart’s content without a second thought.
And, he'd add grumpily, free from people stroking his hair and making everything that much more difficult. What the hell was Klavier doing? Apollo couldn't bring himself to bat the hand away or even move to try, the fear of jostling that arm any more than it had been and waking the prosecutor up being much harder to accept than just lying there and taking the weird, lethargic affections until they stopped.
Apollo kept waiting for that until, but it didn't appear to be something that would happen in the immediate future as the stroking and weak tangling continued, and slowly his frustration at the situation began to build above the fear, erupting as a tiny hiss from between clenched teeth.
The hand paused, and so did Apollo. He heard movement from above on the couch and it sent his heart pounding. Oh no. Oh no, fuck, did he wake up?
He forced himself to wait an appropriate amount of time before panicking. His internal timer was quickly rallying evidence to validate his fears before the hand started slowly moving again. Apollo had no idea how to take that, really, but in his frantic state he chose to take it as a good sign, letting a small, relieved sigh silently escape.
He'd just have to deal with it until morning, he figured, lying stark still as that hand cascaded through his hair, raking out the fringe gently. He'd figured Klavier Gavin for the handsy type from prior social outings, but it had never occurred to him that the trait might persevere in sleep. He had to control his frown as those fingers explored to the edge of his ear, brushing it gently with calloused fingertips, and had to try harder to control his shiver when the movement repeated.
Apollo was never sleeping out here again, he grimly decided, forcing his hands still as those fingers traveled further, lightly stroking what parts of his neck they could reach. He had to admit that being sleep-sexually-harassed had not been on his agenda that night.
Nails grazed the skin behind his ear ever so gently, and with a startled gasp Apollo found himself biting his lip, scandalized. It only seemed to encourage those fingers more.
He had been so preoccupied with staying quiet that he hadn't noticed the man next to him nuzzled up into his side inching ever closer until a hand was skirting across his hip and a leg was trapping one of his. Apollo couldn't believe it. And above all else he was left even more terrified about waking either of them, lest they comment about his awkward situation. He would never survive the teasing.
If he survived the night, his mind screamed when Clay's breath ghosted against his cheek, a quiet tone of agitation rumbling from his throat. Fucking hell, Apollo had at least had the chance to think before the man was pressing against him more forcefully. Clay was picking up on Apollo's own frustration, it had dawned on the shorter man- and in a completely different way.
Apollo could feel heat crawling up his neck, willing his body to make itself smaller in hopes that it would call off the dual attacks to his nerves, but all it succeeded in doing was calling out another displeased breath and he found himself being pulled back strongly against his friend's chest. And in being pulled away Apollo fought every instinct to suppress a terrified whine at the grumble from on top of the couch the movement triggered, the shifting as that tan arm was extended further down to grip more heartily into Apollo's hair.
At least it seemed to stop at that, Apollo consoled himself, face red and heart thumping loudly in his ears. He could feel Clay's breath flush against his neck, the man's face pressed against it, his lips slack. It was too warm. Too damn warm. Apollo could feel the nervous sweat building up on his brow and along his back. It was too fucking hot and he was literally stuck between a rock and a hard place.
It stayed like that for a while, Clay breathing into his neck and Klavier's hand tangled tightly in his hair. Apollo'd managed to calm down enough to try and think out a plan of escape before his thoughts had been scrambled when he felt a slick warmth teasing his skin, and was shocked into paralysis when he realized Clay was lethargically lapping at his neck, clamping his lips against the flesh.
Apollo hadn't had the wits to stop his startled groan and was even less prepared at the tug to his hair, inspiring a sharp gasp and yanking his head to the side enough to expose more skin to that wandering mouth. When his mind had finally shown up it arrived screaming and his embarrassment only increased when he realized his body was reacting to the attention, his cock slowly hardening at the constant contact.
Clay's mouth wasn't the only thing wandering, Apollo noticed as a hand firmly trailed down his thigh and back to its position on his hip, sending shivers up his spine and only encouraging the comatose man to become more engaged, rutting against his leg with slow, precise movements.
When he felt the responding hardness against his hip, Apollo knew he had to get up. He had to make this stop.
Restraint finally snapping, Apollo squirmed for dear life, tugging Klavier's hand from his hair while simultaneously shoving at Clay's chest with the other, kicking his legs free and pushing up onto his feet, making a frantic beeline for the bathroom and not once looking back to see the damage.
He hastily locked the door behind him and sat on the toilet seat, balling his hands into his hair and clenching his teeth while his body shook with the force of containing his panic. He was beyond frazzled, and sported an erection he absolutely could not take care of. What the hell had all of that been about?! He’d shared a bed with Clay before and nothing so- so lewd had happened. The most he ever had to wait through was sleepy cuddling! And-And there was absolutely no way he was going to think about how it had felt-
Nothing could have prepared Apollo's heart for the knock at the door, the sound almost startling him out of his skin.
"Herr Forehead?" No go away please just go away. Apollo couldn't voice a reply, his throat constricting and feet drawing up to perch on the edge of his seat, arms cocooning around him. Please leave me alone. I need to be alone. I need to think.
"Apollo," The next call had been gentler, that deep voice so concerned and Apollo blocked it out. "What's wrong? Apollo, bitte. You did not have a nightmare, did you?"
He almost laughed. Almost. But the sound caught in his throat, strangled and silenced before it escaped. A nightmare? Nightmares were a cakewalk compared to- to this!
"Apollo?" That quiet voice tried again. "Did you want me to wake Herr Terran? I-"
"No!" It had torn out from him in a terrified yelp. There was no way in hell he was ready for that kind of embarrassment, sure the other man was still nocturnally aroused. "No, no I'm fine, okay? J-Just go back to sleep, Klavier. Please."
Apollo was met with silence, and finally, the retreating of quiet footsteps against the wooden floor. Still, Apollo couldn't bring himself to relax, focusing now on removing his current problem- quick, think, think of something that'll turn you off. Anything. Boring work at the office, filing, grocery shopping, not your best friend, guilty clients, anything.
It took a long, frantic while to calm his body down, but when he did, the first thing Apollo could bring himself to do was splash his face and wipe his neck with a clean flannel, shuddering at the memory of heat and- no, fuck, stop.
Sighing, he dallied around in the bathroom a while longer, brushing his hair out and relieving himself and generally making himself more comfortable before venturing back outside like a mouse.
He was amazed to see Clay still dead to the world, face down and arms splayed where Apollo had been, breathing deeply and remarkably still. Klavier had been reclining back on the couch, waiting, legs crossed and feet propped over the arm rest. Those clear blue eyes showed he was perfectly awake, and keenly aware.
Apollo had intended to retreat back into the bathroom before the low bass of the other man's voice called out to him, hushed. "Apollo, come here."
Nervously, Apollo looked back. Those eyes were so commanding, narrowed slightly and determined. After a moment of silence, the prosecutor spoke up again, voice low. "Come here."
Apollo felt the instinctual reaction of oh no I'm in trouble before he could come up with any kind of excuse to bail, and reluctantly he carefully padded his way around the sleeping frame of his best not sexual friend to Klavier's side. "Y-Yes?"
He was shocked when the man opened his arms, completely serious and disturbingly calm. "Lay."
"What?"
"Lay." Klavier repeated again, frowning and unleashing such a brooding glare along with the repetition that once again that Apollo felt the need to obey before higher brain function could kick in with sarcasm. He really didn't want to see what the man would do when angered, he didn’t think he could handle it right now with his nerves so frayed- so with shaky limbs, he climbed onto the couch and allowed himself to be pulled into a surprisingly warm cuddle.
"What's wrong, Apollo?" Apollo had been startled into silence at the gentle, hushed tone, at the way the prosecutor could switch between bait and stick so effortlessly that he found himself unable to react at the comforting hands rubbing against his back, still waiting for the other shoe to drop. "You look...spooked."
Tired, and fed up, and beyond confused, Apollo let himself relax into the embrace with a frustrated sigh, burying his face into the older man's shoulder, his voice coming muffled and tiny. "…I'm tired, that's what."
"Did you not sleep well?" The frown was so obvious in Klavier's voice while he ignored the fact that his statement had been side-stepped that Apollo couldn't help but chuckle at the irony. He’d never sleep well again, thank you very much Mister Hands.
"Can we talk about it later? I really don't want to think about it right now..."
"Ach- ja, ja. Later. You should sleep, Apollo. There are bags under your eyes, knots in your back." His voice was so genuinely worried, those talented fingers rubbing deeper circles between Apollo's shoulder blades that Apollo murmured appreciatively, glad for the more gentle affection. "Don't worry for a while. Just sleep, ja?"
"Ja..." Those hands, so frustrating earlier were now quite pleasant, kneading away the stress and lulling Apollo into a happy doze. He shifted into a more comfortable position, a few peaks of anxiety rising up. "Is it okay to sleep like this? Won't you get sore?" Not to mention the muted sense of awkwardness Apollo was getting, lying on his colleague-barely-now-close-friend like this...
"You worry too much, Apollo. Just sleep. I will be fine, ja? You are not as heavy as you think you are."
"But-" Klavier cut him off, shushing him and rubbing firmer at the knots in Apollo's back, chuckling at the groggy groan he received in turn.
"Sleep, Apollo, or I will have to take more drastic measures. You are tired, it's okay. Worry later. Relax."
Klavier was so nosey. So pretentious and such a diva and so nice and caring and comfortable and- with a yawn Apollo grumbled and gave in to those soothing hands, just letting it happen, letting the prosecutor work away his stress.
Apollo'd let him have it later, for the trouble they caused. Him and Clay, too- but....later.
Apollo remained blissfully unaware of the small grin playing across Klavier's face as his fingers rubbed up Apollo's neck and into his scalp, watching the smaller attorney relax and fall asleep under his touch.
Klavier had been awake the whole time, of course, and had heard every sound, watching from his perch above- and he very much looked forward to seeing the younger man chew both he and the astronaut-to-be out for the little stunt they pulled that night. In his defense, it hadn't completely been his idea alone.
"Is he asleep?" Clay asked from the floor, pushing himself to sit upright and scratching his head with a yawn while Klavier cheekily nodded. "He is so going to kill us when he finds out."
"You were the one who suggested it, Herr Terran." Klavier chuckled, careful of the snoring attorney draped across his body. "Have you not been pining for his affections much longer than I have? And something tells me if our little Apollo is willing to cuddle after such an ordeal, he may not be so mad when we explain…"
"Like hell he won't." Clay grumbled, crossing his arms stubbornly and glaring, only a hint of jealousy coating his words. "I could feel how freaked out he was. He's going to flip."
Klavier slowly sighed, reluctantly nodding. Clay did have the better position... "Ja, well, nothing ventured, nothing gained? He is rather dense, sometimes. Must…show him physically, ja?"
"We're dead men." Clay whined pitifully, flopping onto his side with a dull thud. "Dead! All because of some stupid test! I knew this was going to go south!"
"As if you did not enjoy yourself, even a little." Klavier smirked, leaning an arm down to ruffle through black locks, enticing another whine as Clay covered his face and blushed, pulling his knees to his chest and squirming.
"His little gasps! Klavier, you're the devil, yanking his hair like that!"
Laughing, Klavier cuddled the limp attorney affectionately. To be honest, he hadn’t been expecting such a vocal reaction from the shorter man, either. "Maybe he will let me do it again, ja? If it works out."
"If." The astronaut echoed sarcastically, rolling onto his back and face dead-set serious. "There's way too much riding on 'if', Klavier. I’ve been his friend for god knows how long- that kind of relationship is still really damn precious to me, alright? And you, you’ve been working on him for months- We don't even know if he'll forgive us after that! We were practically assaulting him, cornering him like that! Even if we do like him, this was too far!”
Klavier had paused then, frowning deeply in thought, guilt spreading into his features as he considered the view. "...Oh gott, he really is going to kill us, isn’t he?"
Clay made a loud noise of a remark and pointed accusingly at the prosecutor at being given just the inch, who could only sheepishly look back, eyes wide. "We're dead men!"
"You will be if you don't shut up." Apollo grumbled, cutting into their conversation and shocking them both into terrified silence. The attorney's glare was grouchy and cold as he forced open one eye. He had heard everything, more or less, and while not impressed one damn bit and panicking somewhere deep down, he was too damn tired right now for this. He’d suffered, so let them suffer. He had seen them both tense, leaping into the beginnings of backtracking and apologizing and with a tight, annoyed voice he cut them both off. "Later. Let me sleep, you dogs."
Once again, prosecutor and astronaut were silent, watching with bewilderment as Apollo, red faced and grumbling, turned back into Klavier's shoulder curtly, ending the discussion before it began, and promising hell later in the same breath.
Clay chanced a scared, owlish look at Klavier, who returned it with a minute shrug of his shoulders, startled at being scolded so thoroughly in only a handful of words, but it simultaneously hadn’t been the reaction he’d expected at all, and the two were both left wondering what the short man was thinking, scared for their relationships.
Gingerly the two settled into tense acceptance, turning their eyes to the clock, unsure when, exactly, 'later' was supposed to be. Letting the near-silent ticking fill their nervous hours and counting down the minutes, they could only entertain the thought that maybe this was some kind of mute, drowsy revenge they’d landed themselves in, leaving them stuck and waiting for it to be over.
And they both knew with sinking hopes that it was sure to be just the beginning if Apollo were to get them back for everything they’d done tonight.