Chapter Text
It was late. Apollo sighed as he turned the key over in his palm. Shiny and new even after half a year of use. He supposed he should have called, but he really had had no idea how late it even was before his boss practically kicked him out of the office, complimenting Apollo on his determination on the case but locking the door after he’d said goodbye none the less. Apollo hadn’t even had time to say goodnight to Trucy in the rush.
It had been a while since he’d moved in with Klavier. Long enough that both he and the prosecutor understood that they both would get caught up in their own work sometimes and rock up past midnight, exhausted and just wanting to sleep. It was the pressing idea behind Klavier cutting him a key, the man fumbling through a pre-written speech about how if Apollo were to move in with him it would be absolutely crucial that he have one and that he didn’t want his little mein forehead getting locked out and having to break in.
Apollo had been only a little offended that Klavier had that ruffian opinion about him but ended up proving the man right only a few weeks later when they’d both gotten themselves locked out. He always made a point of keeping a paperclip on him nowadays, just in case.
Finally building up the confidence to open the door, Apollo was greeted by darkness. He wasn’t surprised. When he’d checked his phone before starting the ride home it had been clocking on for around two in the morning. It wasn’t a long ride from the Wright and co. law offices to Klavier’s house, but it was long enough.
It was probably nearing three in the morning now. The thought made Apollo cringe as he stuck an arm in and flicked on the lights, calling out Klavier’s name to check if the man was still awake, followed by a lame “I’m home”.
He’d managed to close the door before a blur of gold was tackling him against it, a surprised yelp ripped from him as he slid to the floor, quickly followed by him clicking his mouth shut as a long, warm tongue lapped at his face, excited puffs of air bombarding him with the scent of dog food.
Wait. Klavier didn’t own a dog.
Forcing the retriever back enough to look at it had been an ordeal. It was as big as he was sitting and was beyond thrilled at the presence of another person in the house, letting out a loud bark to release some energy. Apollo had barely managed to tug at its collar and check the jingling set of dog tags when the large fop of fur had decided to sit on him, promptly knocking the wind out of his system while simultaneously crushing his legs, lapping at his hands and arms and anything that it could reach.
The front of a typically paw-shaped tag proudly displayed ‘Vongole’ in a neat, cursive script and Apollo could only assume it was the dogs’ name, patting it bewilderedly as he turned it over in his hands to check the owners details.
Property of Kristoph Gavin. If found return to…
He could feel the ice sliding down his spine from the shock, staring. Kristoph. Unwanted memories of fond office conversations bubbled up, his old mentor smiling at the younger attorney’s interest in the photos on his desk. “Ah, Justice. I see you’re rather interested in that photo. Did you take me for a cat person?”
Vongole, as if sensing his distress had lowered its head, resting it across his stomach, whining and looking at him with big brown eyes, tail coming to a nervous pause in its wagging. Apollo forced his hands to move, fluffing the dog’s ears in a way that he hoped was reassuring while he stumbled out of his memories and back into the present. What was Kristoph’s dog doing here?
Shooing the retriever off his legs, Apollo stood shakily and made his way into the lounge, flicking lights on as he went. Boxes greeted him along the way, numbers scrawled onto the cardboard with a dying marker but otherwise untouched. The unease settled heavy in his stomach, Vongole following him with its tail buried between its legs. Apollo didn’t have a good feeling about this at all.
It had been so quiet in the room that Apollo’d almost walked straight past him. It was Vongole departing from his side in favour of the blond man sitting on the couch that alerted him in the first place. Klavier didn’t bother looking up, hand gently stroking the dog’s head, those concerned eyes now cast upon him instead.
“Klavier?” Apollo ventured, stepping around the couch anxiously. Klavier wasn’t one to stay up late watching tv or reading, in fact, Klavier didn’t like sitting in silence at all. He’d usually have music playing or a guitar in his hands, strumming away to beat the still of night. Seeing Klavier, usually so full of energy, so silent and still sent a wave of unease washing through the shorter man, raising the hairs on the back of his neck. “Klavier, what’s going on?”
Klavier looked up at him in a sort of daze that barely wormed into a fake smile, as if he hadn’t even realised Apollo was there. “Achtung, you’re home late, liebling.”
Apollo had frowned and Klavier had deflated, tired eyes looking away, hands coming to a stop. “Klavier,” He’d repeated slowly, tense, “What’s going on?”
Limply, Klavier shifted, hand grasping for a crumpled up letter shoved half-heartedly under a cushion by his side. He offered it up to Apollo weakly, as if his limbs were too heavy, weighed down by an invisible force; or as if the letter itself bore the weight of the world and Klavier was just too tired to carry it anymore.
Paperwork still thrumming in his veins after the hours upon hours spent at his desk, Apollo only needed to skim through the text, frown deepening and legs bending, barely attentive as he sat next to Klavier while the man watched on hesitantly. By the end of the letter, Apollo’s knuckles were white, his fingers clenched into the paper so hard that he was shaking, the words crumpled against his vision. “Klavier-“
Klavier. Apollo’d whipped his eyes to the man and really looked. The blue eyes he was faced with, always so bright, were now tired and red, his hair a mess, his body like lead. How long had Klavier been sitting here crying?
After a few minutes of tense silence, Klavier looked away and sighed, expelling all the air in his lungs for what seemed like forever, emotionless. “Ja, Kristoph’s will. I did not have any say in it.”
Paragraph two detailed that in the instance of Kristoph’s death that certain goods should succeed to the younger brother, Klavier Gavin, including one dog, golden retriever breed, Vongole, followed by a list of items of varying worth, and that anything not listed should be henceforth destroyed.
Paragraph eight detailed the changes in the will which had been put forward after Kristoph’s sentence and that at the time of his execution, no family or friends were to be informed. It was Kristoph’s wish that he have no onlookers for his death.
It stung. It didn’t feel real. He knew Kristoph was a cruel man, but this had come from left field in how cruel it actually was. He’d expected Kristoph to insist that the brother who put him in the executioner’s seat be nearby to watch his death, to burn it into Klavier’s memory. Instead he had cast him out, not even important enough to know about it.
“Ja,” A bare breath of a reply towards the conflicted look the younger attorney fixed him, the life gone from Klavier’s words as he stared down at the dog resting its face in his lap. “Today. The letter arrived with this kleinen hund…The boxes arrived later. I called to check, schatzelein. There is no mistake.”
Apollo didn’t know what to do, the silence stretching on uncomfortably as he struggled to breathe. He didn’t know what to feel. Angry? Sad? Betrayed? He was brought away from his internal conflict at the sound of a choked sob, watching as if from outside his body as Klavier broke down beside him, hunching over to hide the tears.
It didn’t matter what he was feeling, if anything at all. What Klavier was going through was probably ten times worse.
Vongole was whining, pushing itself up on its hind legs and planting its front paws on Klavier’s knees, stretching out to lick away the tears dripping down Klavier’s chin. Apollo briefly wondered how such a terrible man could raise a dog so kind before he felt himself dragging an arm up around Klavier’s back numbly, pulling the man into his side. Klavier responded by burying the side of his face into Apollo’s neck, face scrunched up in an effort to hold back his sobs. Apollo had never seen the expression on Klavier’s face before and was immediately sure he never wanted to see it again, heart breaking as the man he loved heaved at the strain of holding back his anguish.
Apollo couldn’t lie to a face like that, even if every fibre of his being wanted to. “It’s not okay,” he murmured, stroking back Klavier’s fringe, rubbing his shoulder, trying to mimic Klavier’s own affections when he tried to calm Apollo himself down. He felt out of his depth. “But it’s okay to cry about it.”
“Nein,” Klavier had forced out, voice like gravel, strangled in his throat. “It is not okay to cry about a man like him, Apollo. He is a monster. The world is a better place without him.”
“He’s your brother.”
Apollo was shocked as this appeared to trigger Klavier deeply, and suddenly he’d stopped trying to hold back, tears flowing freely as he released a cry of pain, shaking and holding himself as he fell apart, struggling to breathe, struggling to think outside of a keened mantra controlling his every outward breath of “Kristoph, Kristoph. Mein bruder Kristoph.”
Apollo really didn’t know what to do, sure it was his fault and beyond guilty. He shouldn’t have said that.
His instincts fought against his initial urge to panic and instead forced both arms to wrap around Klavier tightly, drawing him against his chest, twisting awkwardly to accommodate the taller man. He didn’t have to move much, however, as Klavier was immediately burying his face in Apollo’s chest, forcing his entire weight on the shorter man and balling his hands up in his vest to pull him closer, hiding himself from the outside world inside Apollo’s arms while he broke.
Apollo didn’t know how long it took, but slowly, so slowly, Klavier’s cries dimmed in volume, his shaking subsiding, transitioning from tight, wracking sobs to whimpers, to quiet snivelling, but throughout it all his grip on Apollo never wavered, desperate for solace, and Apollo never let go, stroking long blond locks and hushing whispered words of comfort against the man’s ear.
Klavier’s weight was a comfortable burden, and as he calmed down Apollo leaned back, drawing the other man up close on top of him on the sofa, rubbing his back soothingly. After another quiet eternity, Apollo glanced down as Klavier cleared his throat, face buried against his red vest. “I’m sorry.”
Apollo had hummed dismissively, tucking Klavier’s fringe back behind his ear. “He was family.”
He could feel Klavier shift, another sigh escaping, forlorn. “Ja. He was family. He is a murderer, but he is family.”
Apollo could feel the unease twisting in his gut, gently carding his hands through Klavier’s hair. What do you say to that? Klavier cut off his silence with a quiet laugh. “Do you think he would be sad if it had been me instead, forehead? If I had died.”
It was so out of the blue that Apollo froze. Blue eyes refused to meet his. “I,” He licked his lips, mouth going dry, “I think we shouldn’t think about it.”
Klavier barely sounded amused when he murmured, “I suppose you are right.” But his grip on Apollo’s vest tightened all the same. Apollo could feel his heart drop.
“…somewhere deep down, he would have been sad.” Apollo whispered. “He used you, but he could have used anyone. Like me. You were…special.”
The laughter this time was slightly richer, a little more real as Klavier fixed him with a teasing look. It was ruined by the glossy sheen of tears unshed. “You really are terrible at this, liebling.” Apollo could feel the heat of embarrassment rising in his cheeks, locking his limbs, but the grin across the prosecutor’s lips melted into something sweeter. “Danke.”
“F-For what?” He huffed, cut off again, this time by a gentle kiss.
“For being you, shatz.” Klavier murmured, resting his head against Apollo’s chest and humming, falling still, comfortable. Apollo watched him in disbelief, blush rising high on his cheeks before pouting and ruffling the man’s hair rougher than he’d intended, frowning at the laughter it induced.
“Yeah, whatever.” Apollo grumbled, wrapping his arms around Klavier as the man settled down again, face flush against his neck and breathing steadying out, the crying taking its toll. “You’re fine, Klavier.”
“I’m fine?” Klavier murmured sleepily, a quirk of a smile ghosting across his mouth.
Apollo rolled his eyes, reluctantly smiling himself. “Yes. You’re fine, since you have me.”
Klavier’s grip tightened considerably at the words, startled and worming closer. Apollo accepted the affection; lightly planting a kiss on Klavier’s temple and feeling the man relax finally with a breath that sounded suspiciously like “I love you”. It was only a matter of minutes before exhaustion finally claimed Klavier, dragging him into sleep.
Apollo remained awake, watching over him with muted relief. Klavier was okay now, but he knew better than to believe the glimpse of happiness. The weight of loss would hang over the Klavier’s head for a long time yet, and Apollo was determined to stay by him to ease the pain and hold him through the worst of it, just like Klavier would do for him. He wouldn’t let Klavier feel alone in this.
Apollo was brought out of his daze as Vongole lapped at his fingers affectionately, sparing a smile for the dog as it curled up by the couch.
Feeling exhausted himself, Apollo sighed, squeezing his arms around Klavier and listening to the groggy murmur it produced, lethargic movements accepting the tighter hold before falling still again. Smiling lightly, Apollo let his eyes slip shut.
Yeah. He wasn’t going anywhere.