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Apollo probably hadn’t meant to stay as late as he did. He’d arrived at Klavier’s door with a thick file of documents under his arm when the first snowflakes had landed against Klavier’s windowpane. By the time Klavier had finished reading and signing them all, the snow had barely dusted the roads, hardly anything to worry about.
Perhaps it was with this confidence in the weather ahead that Apollo had (after much convincing) stayed for dinner, a three course meal which Klavier had taken ages to prepare so as to keep Apollo around longer. Neither had noticed the storm warnings sent to their phones and ate in comfortable, dull chatter, the kind acquaintances pulled out when they hadn’t yet decided if they were friends or not. Klavier, at least, considered Apollo his friend. In all likelihood, with Daryan in jail and his band split forever, Apollo was the only one he had left. He’d happily endure the useless conversations while Apollo decided if the sentiment was mutual.
Klavier didn’t notice the snow until he’d volunteered to take their dishes to the sink.
“Shit, this is what I get for putting my phone on silent,” Apollo grumbled, reading through the weather report as they sat in the living room. “Getting back home is going to be a pain.”
“I’d be happy to let you stay the night,” Klavier offered. He’d considered the idea since Apollo first stepped foot into the apartment, but the snow had provided a convenient excuse.
“I wouldn’t want to impose.”
“It’s really no worry, Herr Forehead. The guest room is empty.” Without Daryan or Kristoph to make use of it, its door had remained shut for months now.
Apollo shook his head. “No, no, don’t worry about it. I’m sure I can make it home just fine on my bike.”
Klavier raised an eyebrow and gestured out the window. “In this weather? I’m afraid your Chords of Steel won’t make the snow go away.” Directly below them, the sidewalk and road were indistinguishable under the heavy snow. A flurry of thick snowflakes cloaked his skyline view, giving him little opportunity to see anything else. Would Apollo be able to keep his head above snow level if he ventured out there?
Apollo leaned forward to see for himself. His mouth drew into a grimace at the sight, after which he gave a heavy sigh. “You’re really sure?”
“I’ll even throw in some pajamas and breakfast.” Frankly, Klavier would have thrown just about anything at Apollo to make him stay. If he spent another night alone, he’d have to resort to playing the Gavinners forgotten Labor Day album to cringe himself to sleep.
After another prolonged look out the window and some fiddling with his bracelet, Apollo nodded. “Okay, I’ll stay. Just until tomorrow morning.”
“ Ja, I knew you’d come around to the idea.”
The rest of the evening they spent watching a movie, Apollo’s choice. Judging by the way he whispered the lines under his breath, Apollo had watched it endless times before. Klavier could picture him introducing Trucy and Mr. Wright to the cheesy legal drama, all three of them huddled by the tiny TV hiding in the corner of the Wright Anything Agency while they snacked on popcorn and grape juice. Trucy would have teased Apollo for having the movie memorized, and after Apollo objected and began a rant on the cultural significance of the film, Mr. Wright would have ruffled his hair and told them to quiet down, weirdly invested in a movie he’d somehow missed. Maybe the fraulein detective would have shown up unannounced and critiqued every inconsistency. That small room would have felt full. Klavier didn’t need his apartment to feel full; he just wished it weren’t so empty.
Once the credits rolled and it was time for bed, Klavier handed Apollo an old Gavinners t-shirt and a pair of basketball shorts he’d worn to a match once. “Sorry, I don’t think any of my actual pajamas would fit you,” he explained when Apollo shot him a quizzical glance.
“Erm, okay, I guess. Thanks.”
“Bathroom’s down the hall to your right. Feel free to make use of anything you need.”
“Thanks, Prosecutor Gavin.”
Klavier retreated to his bedroom shortly thereafter. A part of him feared Apollo would disappear if he left him unattended, but he assured himself Apollo Justice would never do something like that. There was only one way Apollo Justice could hurt him, and Apollo didn’t know it yet.
Since Kristoph’s second trial, Klavier had taken to leaving his bedroom door open while he slept. On nights where he woke up in a cold sweat, the sight of the guitars hanging from the walls had been his only comfort. Even without the music playing aloud, he could hear it clearly, lulling him back to sleep.
Tonight, he closed the door. He didn’t anticipate a night terror today, not when Apollo slept only a few rooms away. As small as he was, Klavier could feel Apollo’s presence envelop the apartment, the same way it did in the courtroom. It calmed him, the way Apollo could go anywhere and force it under his control. Klavier bet Apollo could straighten out this apartment if he asked, drive out the ghosts and haunting memories with a booming Objection! or two. Maybe he’d do just that when they awoke the next morning. With a new peace of mind, Klavier didn’t struggle to drift off.
In his half-conscious state, Klavier assumed the paparazzi were at his door again when heard the knock. They were the only visitors he ever received nowadays, pleading and begging for anything they could plaster on their tabloid’s front page. On a lucky day, they asked about a possible Gavinners reunion; on a bad one, they baited him with the former before throwing in a casual, and how are you taking your brother’s recent guilty verdicts? In those instances, Klavier had been careful to keep his smile from faltering as he found any excuse to slam the door in their faces.
Instead, when he cracked the door open, he found a yawning Apollo. The gel keeping his hair up had worn out some, allowing his horns to droop into his face. Cute.
“Herr Forehead?” Klavier rubbed at his eyes. Something about seeing Apollo in one of his t-shirts woke him up in an instant.
“Sorry, did I wake you up?”
“Don’t apologize. You need something?”
Apollo pointed behind him. “I think the heater’s broken in the guest room. It’s freezing in there.”
“Hm?” Klavier opened the door all the way, revealing himself fully. Apollo spluttered a bit, and it was only then that Klavier realized he’d slept in his underwear again. Figuring addressing it would only make things more awkward, Klavier moved past him and headed towards the guest room.
“ Ja , I suppose it is,” he observed as he stuck his hand in. Maybe he’d turned the heating off when he realized no one would be coming around.
“Ah well. Got any extra blankets?” Apollo’s eyes seemed to stare at anything but him. Klavier chose to interpret that in a flattering manner.
“Well, ja , but I’d have to search for them in the second closet.”
“Is that an issue?”
It would take a few minutes at most. Klavier had memorized his closets from head to toe; blankets were stored in the topmost left drawer. As he looked down at Apollo, however, he felt the selfish urge to keep him within his sight.
“Say, why don’t you sleep in my bed? I promise it’s big enough for two,” he suggested with a wink.
Apollo’s head whipped around, eyes narrowed. He reached for his wrist, absent of its signature bracelet. “This isn’t some sort of innuendo, is it?”
Klavier clutched at his chest with one hand. “Herr Forehead, you wound me! I’m only trying to help!”
Apollo rolled his eyes. “I’ll take the couch,” he announced, pushing past Klavier and into the living room.
“I’ve got a perfectly good bed at my disposal, though,” Klavier pressed.
“You’ve also got a perfectly good couch,” Apollo said. He threw himself onto it, landing with a soft plop . “So good, in fact, it even beats my bed back home.”
“It sounds like you’re in need of a new mattress.”
“Pff. Maybe when Mr. Wright gives me a raise.”
“In the meantime–”
“Couch.”
Klavier’s shoulders drooped. He knew he was being unreasonable. Apollo was a work acquaintance who’d beaten him in court a few times, nothing more. Nevertheless, he found himself saying, “You’re really that appalled by the idea, schatzi ?”
Apollo didn’t reply for a moment. Klavier couldn’t see him from where he stood, and slowly found himself at the brink of panic. Had Apollo sunken through the couch and left him there? If he looked out the window, would he find Apollo trudging through the snow?
To his immense relief, Apollo finally replied, “Fine. But you better stick to your side of the bed!”
“I will.”
Apollo joined Klavier in the bedroom after retrieving his bracelet. If Klavier didn’t run the risk of chasing him away, he would have asked about it.
“I should warn you, I’m a bit of a restless sleeper,” Apollo whispered as Klavier settled into bed after turning the lights off. He had his back turned to Klavier, scrunched up at the edge of the bed. Klavier could hardly make him out in the dark, but he was willing to bet he had his hand clasped over his bracelet.
“What a coincidence. So am I.”
“You are?”
“Is that surprising?”
“Maybe a little.” Apollo scooched away from the edge. Slightly.
Klavier gave a soft chuckle. “In any case, don’t worry about it. Goodnight, Herr Justice.”
“Goodnight, Prosecutor Gavin.”
Thirty minutes into the ordeal, it occurred to Klavier that their definitions of restless were vastly different. As soon as Apollo had fallen asleep, he’d begun rolling around incessantly. Like a tornado, he twisted and twisted, sometimes onto his opposite side, other times onto his stomach. Once, he managed a complete 180. Klavier had only noticed when Apollo’s foot hit the side of his cheek. Thankfully, he’d completed the rotation, but Klavier could not rest easy knowing he could try it again at any moment.
Klavier winced as Apollo shifted his weight once more, rolling over with a snore. His Chords of Steel had strengthened his voice in all respects, and snoring was no exception.
Driven partly by annoyance and partly by impulse, Klavier rolled over onto his side and let his arm fall over Apollo’s waist. He tensed as it landed against Apollo’s stomach, expecting an immediate outburst. Instead, Apollo’s breathing evened out, still snoring but to a lesser degree. His muscles twitched, then relaxed as they pressed into the mattress below. With a simple touch, Klavier had tamed the storm.
Klavier revelled in his victory, smiling against Apollo’s neck. He fought the urge to press his lips against it. If he weren’t so sleepy, he may have given in. He compromised by adjusting his left arm and pulling the covers over them both.
In the morning, when Apollo found Klavier’s arm draped over his side, he’d likely push Klavier off the bed and storm out of the room in embarrassment, but in that moment, Apollo was still. For the first time in months, so was Klavier.