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Klavier woke up, and it was one of those days.
He didn’t have them often. There wasn’t much that could truly upset Klavier Gavin to the point of him sinking into bed, holding the duvet over his head and hoping the world would go away but occasionally he couldn’t ignore the feeling. And that feeling had come back with a vengeance.
There were too many things piled on him, immediately upon awakening. There was rain lashing against his windows in waves, as if trying to break inside. It was the worst weather they had experienced in weeks- he hated December mornings. The constant chill outside and sickness going around the office had struck him down too, and he blinked blearily awake to find what had been a vague sniffle the night before was now a ruined nose and the feeling of sandpaper in his throat. He pulled a face, and immediate regretted it. A stab of pain shot through his temple. It felt like the worst hangover he had ever known.
It was a mere cold- nothing to keep Klavier at home and barely anything noticeable, but he spared his mobile on the counter a longing glance. What he wouldn’t give to be able to call in sick and not feel completely useless later. Klavier hated feeling unproductive, even if he had no cases waiting for him at the office. He had to do something to keep the boredom at bay.
He crawled out of bed and immediately regretted it. His apartment was cold, a frozen wasteland compared to the warm comfort of his bed. He considered crawling back and pretending he had never woken up, but he prepared himself for the new day nonetheless. He forced down toast that scratched his sore throat and washed it down with water, and pulled on clothes nothing like his usual. He knew the Paynes’ were going to turn their noses up at him and the secretaries would give him odd looks but he wasn’t in the mood. He didn’t care for his appearance, for the first time in a long while.
He tried not to think about what that implied. This time a year ago, he wouldn’t have been caught dead perfectly made up, all flaws hidden with a dazzling smile.
Today Klavier pulled on a pair of black jeans and a plain grey shirt that hung off him. It was expensive, vaguely fashionable and practically minimalist. It wouldn’t catch anyone’s eye, especially if he left his jewellery. That thought made him almost happy. He would step through the office practically unseen- the Fraulein Detective had constantly made jokes about not recognising him through all the fop, and he wondered how she would react. Probably in some standoffish manner.
By the time he had to leave, there was only one thing left to do- his hair. The rain had died down but it hadn’t stopped, and he pulled a face at the miserable clouds outside the window. He could see the people far down below with umbrellas, being harassed by the whistling wind. There was little point in doing his hair. He had showered the night before so it was clean and presentable, and even with his usual generous application of hairspray, it would be ruined in mere moments outside.
And he was running late, and he wasn’t in the mood to screw around with his hair when he was feeling so deathly-
Fuck it, he thought, and walked out the door without doing a thing.
-
At the office, no one looked up when he passed. They were all lost in their own little worlds, grumbling at the rain water puddles they left behind them or scowling down at computers. His colleagues were a cheery lot no matter what the occasion. Klavier was usually the only man with a smile on his face.
It didn’t matter. He supposed they weren’t there to smile- they were there to find the truth, no matter how loosely half of them defined the word. He made his way to his office utterly undisturbed, and a day that had started off so terrible turned into a remarkably dull one.
The Paynes’ played their usual games, stealing cases from under Klavier’s feet in some desperate attempt to earn the respect they never had and most likely never would, but neither of them darkened his doorstep. No one did at all- not the Chief Prosecutor, nor the Fraulein Detective or even his secretary. He found himself almost glad. Herr Cravat would not have given him a second glance, but the detective would most likely have laughed herself sick at his appearance.
He pulled a face at the thought. He had hair ties littered around his office- he lost them at an alarming rate and had two back up packs in his drawer. He had no idea where the little bastards went- and he had used one of them to pull up his hair into a ponytail, which he then promptly twisted into a bun. It kept the back of his neck bare and cool, exposed to the room. It was him settle a little more. It was rare he could be so comfortable, and he knew today was going to be a day of productivity.
He was half right. For the first three hours, he got nothing done. He knew inwardly that it would have been best if he stayed at home- but paperwork needing signing out even if nothing was coming in, and he supposed he hadn’t dusted the guitars in his office in an awfully long time. Everything was slow and relaxed, and the most stressful part of the morning was deciding what music to play on his stereos.
Then, not long after lunch, it changed.
There was a knock at the door, and Klavier didn’t look up or even think about what he was doing when he called out, “Ja?”.
He didn’t have time to correct himself, to call something more polite. He gazed at the door as the handle turned and the old wood creaked- and Apollo Justice’s tentatively smiling face appeared, and Klavier’s mood brightened instantly.
“Herr Forehead,” He called, and turned to properly face the man. He deserved his full attention. It wasn’t exactly divided anywhere else. “How good of you to visit!”
Apollo ducked his head, as if shy. Klavier knew better. He had known the man for over a year now. “Hi,” He said, and stepped properly inside the office. He used to linger, standoffish and distant by the door. Over the last few months he had visited enough times to feel truly welcome, and while his smile was small it was genuine. He made his way across the office and Klavier could see his satchel slung over one shoulder and a plastic bag in one hand. It was full to the brim, and bore the logo of one of the bakeries a few streets away. Klavier went there when he could, but with the rain he hadn’t even thought about it today. Judging by the dampness of Apollo’s clothes he had braved the downpour with no umbrella. “I brought you some food,” He said, as if knowing what Klavier was thinking.
“Apollo, you Engel,” He smiled, and dropped the book he held to the side. It made a rather satisfying thud. “You’re too good to me.”
“Damn right,” He said, without even looking up. He made his way over to Klavier’s desk, shrugging off his bag. He immediately began emptying out the contents, what appeared to be sandwiches and doughnuts for the both of them. The plastic rustled noisily. “Honestly, where would you be without me?”
Gott only knows. “At my peak with a winning streak of cases,” He replied, glibly, and Apollo shot him a sour look- and stopped dead. He held a can of coke in one hand, hovering inches above the desk. His eyes were locked on Klavier’s face, and he looked suddenly stunned. Almost like he had been punched in the gut.
Klavier thought he might resume, or at least speak once he recovered from whatever surprise he felt. He didn’t. He only stared.
After a moment, he quirked his head to one side. “Apollo?” Do I have something on my face? He resisted the urge to pat at himself. “Are you alright?”
Apollo blinked, very slowly. He placed the can down, and crushed the plastic bag into a ball absentmindedly. “You cut your hair,” He said sounding thrown off his axis, and then he cleared his throat. He shook his head, and tried again. “You cut your hair?”
Klavier frowned, and reached up and touched the loose bun. “Nein? It’s in a bun,” He said, and turned to show it. His neck felt oddly bare this time, and he could feel Apollo’s gaze burning on the skin. “My hair is part of my image, Forehead. I couldn’t be so reckless as to chop it all off.”
He had been tempted, sometimes. It was difficult to dispel a ghost when there was something tying it to the world. But he wasn’t going to run away, not again. He was going to face it dead on, and if that meant seeing him every day in the mirror-
So be it.
But Apollo was looking at him with wide eyes. Klavier may have thought that he hadn’t noticed Taka using his hair as a nest, but he could feel nothing. His head felt lighter than it had in years. “Is there a problem?”
“No,” Apollo eventually stuttered, and he stepped closer. He dropped the bag onto the floor and Klavier might have complained if he could manage words under Apollo’s bewildering gaze. Do you treat the floor if the WAA offices this way, he thought, no wonder it is constantly a sty, but then Apollo was reaching towards his face and the snark died on his tongue.
He thought for one bizarre moment that Apollo was going to cup his cheek, like a man treasuring a lover before he pulled them in for a kiss. On instinct his lips parted slightly and his breath caught in his throat- but Apollo’s hand went beyond, and reached for the back of his head.
If he pulls a coin out from behind my ear, I’ll kill him.
He didn’t. Klavier wasn’t exactly sure whether or not to be relieved. Apollo’s fingers brushed the side of his neck, fingertips so light he barely felt them, and Klavier was sure it was the softest touch he had ever felt. Apollo was staring up at him so oddly- if Klavier hadn’t of known better, he would have said it was revenant. The man reached back and traced something around his hairline, following the strands of hair as they curled up into the bun. Klavier could feel him toying with some of the loose parts, hair that escaped despite his best attempts, and Apollo’s touch made him shiver.
Klavier hadn’t realised putting his hair up would have been so revolutionary. If he had, he would have done it months ago. Apollo looked like his entire world had changed, his eyes wide and his brow furrowed, and he didn’t look like he was going to jolt back to reality any time soon.
He gazed down at Apollo, and he had no idea what to do, what to say. He did nothing instead, remaining completely still, and quietly said, “Apollo?”
It was the tether to reality that pulled taut, and Apollo snapped to attention. He made a startled noise, and his hand shot away. Klavier blinked and all of a sudden the man was backing away, back towards the desk. “I brought lunch!” He said again, louder than was necessary, and it was another taste of the Chords of Steel. Klavier winced, suddenly very glad he had thought to have the room soundproofed. “Food.”
“Ja, you said,” Klavier reached up and tucked a loose bit of hair behind his ear. His neck felt strange where Apollo had touched it. “Danke.” He paused. “I’m assuming you like my hair then.”
Apollo ducked his head, but not before Klavier saw the flush on his cheeks. Apollo cleared his throat. “Um. Yeah. Looks good.” He dithered at Klavier’s desk for a while, as if waiting for something to happen to distract them both. It didn’t, and he sighed. “I’m sorry. I’m not sure why I did that.”
“It’s no problem,” He said, truthfully. The touch had been pleasant. Do it again, he wanted to say, but while their friendship was strong- it had to be, after the fires it was forged in- he was unwilling to test those strengths. He wasn’t going to lose anyone else.
Apollo toyed with his own hands, his fingers pressing together. He looked up at Klavier uncertainly, as if he wasn’t sure he was allowed. Apollo could be ridiculous sometimes. “Do you often… do that? Tie up your hair?”
Klavier hummed, vaguely. He crossed the room to follow Apollo and tried not to smile at the way the man crossed to the other side of the desk as quickly as possible without making it obvious. Klavier Gavin saw all- or at least most. “I put it up sometimes. When I sleep. When I’m ill. Usually never when I’m in the office, but today…” He smiled. “Today’s different.”
“Right,” Apollo said after a brief pause, and it lingered a moment longer before he shook his head, bringing himself back into the moment. “Right. I’m sorry. Shouldn’t have touched your hair. Looks good, though. Really…really good.” He cleared his throat. “But yeah. Food.”
Klavier laughed, low in his throat. “Grab a chair, Herr Forehead.” He took the seat at his office and pulled the bag bearing his name in what was probably the cashier’s scrawl. He picked apart the plastic, and found ham and cheese waiting for him. His favourite. Apollo probably knew his favourite foods like the back of his hand now.
The man was grumbling nonsense as he crossed the room to grab one of Klavier’s spare chairs. He never had any until he realised how often he and Trucy visited. “Oh, wonderful. I bring you lunch and Herr Forehead makes a return.”
Klavier waited until Apollo sat heavily down opposite him before responding, fishing the sandwich out of the bad. “You didn’t have to. In the rain, and all.” He could still hear it pattering against the windows. It wasn’t particularly vicious, but it was persistent.
“I wanted to,” Apollo protested. He opened the can of coke with a click and a hiss. “And,” He paused, for just a moment. Klavier took a bite out of his sandwich. He hadn’t realised how hungry he was. “It wasn’t exactly just for lunch. There’s kind of something in it for me too.”
Of course, Klavier thought, and the disappointment barely had time to sweep into the room with a dramatic flair before Apollo was shaking his head. “No, that was badly worded. It’s not for me- it’s for the both of us, really.” His can hit the desk with a thud. “It’s just that- you said you didn’t have any cases yesterday, so I came along bring you files for one. It’s mine, and it’s kind of interesting. I thought you might want to take it on.”
“A case?” Klavier arched an eyebrow. The stinging pain in his chest subsided, just a little. Over the course of the conversation, it would disappear entirely. “Anything to see me in court again ja?”
Apollo glared at him. “Shut up.”
Klavier only laughed, and took another bite of his sandwich. He chewed and swallowed before replying- Apollo probably would have killed him otherwise. It turned out the man have plentiful pet peeves. “You really want to have another case with me? Are you so eager to be beaten by the great Klavier Gavin?”
“You’ve not won a single case with me at the defence.”
Klavier waved his hand. He had no rings on his fingers to blind himself in the overhead light. “Details, details.” He smiled. “Have you finally admitted that we make an excellent crime fighting team?”
Apollo looked at him. “I never once denied that,” He reminded him. He took a bite of his sandwich. “Honestly, we’re not crime fighters though. The day we run down the city with our underwear outside our trousers- that’s when we’re crime fighters.”
“I can’t wait,” Klavier said wryly, and this time, Apollo laughed. Klavier finished off the rest of his sandwich within moments, in a matter of bites, and dusted off his hands. He waited patiently for Apollo to finish in turn, in a relaxed silence before he sat forward.
“Tell me about this case of yours,” Klavier said, and Apollo grinned.