Chapter Text
Chapter One: LA
February 13th, 2027
It’s been around four months since the Misham trial, since Kristoph Gavin has been found guilty again and got locked up for his many crimes for good. The Wrights finally started to get used to having their minds at peace, after everything they’ve been through for the past seven years. You could often catch Phoenix at the courtroom library studying for the bar exam, still in that god-awful hoodie of his, still stuck to his body, as if he still didn’t want to let go of it somehow. Trucy is booking bigger venues, as she took the decision to revive the Gramarye legacy in her own Trucy Wright style. Vera is hosting a new exhibition with her original pieces for the first time, and Klavier and Apollo are hanging out twice almost every week, at least.
At first, both men were quite surprised at this new found friendship. While Apollo did not expect Klavier to actually be a genuine, kind and sincere person while still maintaining that rock star persona, Klavier was surprised to see Apollo step out of his comfort zone and be more vulnerable around him.
If you were to pinpoint an exact moment their friendship began, it would have started the moment Klavier left the courtroom after the Misham trial, and Apollo followed immediately after, seeming to have noticed how much pain and despair Klavier was feeling. After that first moment, they realized that there existed a form of companionship and compassion for one another, and that they also found trust in each other, both as coworkers but also as friends.
As the months passed, they started meeting more, to the point where they could not spend a week without seeing each other outside of work. Such as now, where Klavier and Apollo are out on a surprisingly sunny February morning, in the café veranda where they usually go for breakfast before stepping into the courtroom.
“You know, I passed by the store earlier and got a nice bottle of wine.” Klavier said, trying to hide his smile behind his tall iced americano.
“It’s 7:30 in the morning, Klavier.” Apollo remarked, eyeing his friend suspiciously and smiling slightly behind his extra sweet cappuccino.
Klavier put his drink down and put his chin on his hands, leaning closer and smiling playfully at Apollo.
“You know how you got me addicted to those new cookies that you brought for breakfast last week,” he pointed at the little plastic tray of cookies on the table. “And, as a good friend, I thought on my way here that maybe I’ll just run quickly to the store and get us some, and frankly that was my plan! Until I passed by the liquor section and noticed that they did carry my favorite Riesling, which surprised me since it’s always sold out! I couldn’t pass on such a rare opportunity!” He finished, with a proud smile on his face.
Apollo exhaled slowly, closed his eyes, and then grabbed one of the cookies in front of him. “Well it’s not gonna sell out early in the morning, you know, they don’t expect their customer base to be early risers.” He said, through the mouthful of the apparently really good cookie. “Early songbird gets the wine, or whatever they say.”
Klavier started laughing, moving his hands and accidentally knocking over his drink. He quickly recovered it but a good portion of it was already spilled. Apollo chuckled at his friend’s antics, heart filled with joy and a little bit of pride, since he loves it when Klavier laughs at his jokes.
He shook his head and quickly pulled out a napkin from his breast pocket. “What? Don’t tell me you finished the bottle before coming here?” He joked, trying to clean up the coffee. Klavier couldn’t stop laughing.
“Apollo, bitte, you’re killing me.” He said through laughs, trying to calm down slowly. He helped Apollo clean up with his own napkin, putting the cup away. “Ah, it’s always a good laugh with you, I’m going to miss this.” His gaze drifted to the other man’s eyes.
“Hey, it’s not like you’re leaving forever.” Apollo smiled sadly. “Plus there’s a thing called the internet, you know? Text messages? Video calls? Don’t know if you’ve heard of it before.”
Klavier smiled. “I know I’m probably going to call you almost every day but it’s not going to be like this, you know?” He gestured at the spilled drink, the coffee-soaked napkins, and the one last cookie between them. “It’s these little things that I treasure so much.”
Apollo thought back to the first time Klavier told him that he got accepted into an artist residency project. It was about a month ago, they were both resting out a hangover at Apollo’s apartment, the morning after having a small (alcoholic) gathering with Ema, Athena and Simon. Klavier was laying on Apollo’s couch upside down, scrolling through his phone. Apollo was by the kitchenette attempting to cook an omelet turned scrambled eggs for them, when he suddenly heard a loud “YIPPIE!” and looked over to see Klavier stand up so suddenly, he was almost worried for his still hungover friend. He quickly came to hug Apollo, telling him that he got accepted into an artist residency starting in February.
Apollo is naturally overjoyed for his friend. He knows that the musician struggled so much to find his footing again into the scene, and that even thinking about his music career left a sour taste in his mouth. He always expressed, during their many late night talks, that he couldn’t find inspiration as easily as he did before. It was something that Apollo knew made Klavier so sad, and he always encouraged him to try thinking about writing for himself and himself alone, not for an audience and certainly not for a band.
Therefore, when Klavier expressed some doubt at applying for this project, Apollo immediately told him to go for it without hesitation, even if it stung a little to know that Klavier won’t be around for six whole months through the duration of the residency. He tried to ignore that fact for the longest time until he realized that the date of his departure is rapidly approaching. He winced, remembering that Klavier was leaving in exactly two days.
“It’s not going to be easy, having to deal with Simon and Prosecutor Debeste.” He glanced at the courtroom across the street. “You know how… difficult… they can be.”
Klavier smiled at this thought. “Oh you’ll be fine. You know Simon very well, you’ve faced him multiple times in court and you don’t need Athena to tell you exactly how he operates. You call him by his first name.” Apollo seemed less tense hearing these words. Klavier smirked and continued quickly: “Plus you guys literally went to a nerd convention together.”
“It’s called an anime convention, actually, it celebrates the art of Japanese ani-” Apollo started defending, as it is his second nature, but got cut off by Klavier who was trying to de-escalate the situation, and quickly sweep under the rug the fact that he just called Apollo a nerd.
“And I’m almost certain you’ll get along with Sebastian. He’s a very dear friend to me, you know, I’ll tell him to go especially easy on you.” Apollo kicked Klavier’s leg under the table. He laughed. “I’m joking! Bitte!” He held his arms up in surrender, then continued: “He might seem eccentric and maybe obnoxious at times, but in reality he’s a sweet little guy. Don’t be intimidated by him, he’s very understanding and cooperative. Maybe if you’ve seen our yearbook picture with him in braces and me in glasses at age fifteen, you would probably see him the way I do.”
Apollo smiled at his friend. Everything around him was warm. The unexpected winter sun, the cup of cappuccino warming his palms, Klavier’s long legs slightly touching his own under the small table, Klavier’s smile and the way his hands move when he talks, his own smile, the tip of his cheek that he can see in the corner of his eye, his throat that was almost burning from laughing too hard and of course, his heart.
“I’m going to miss you, you dork.” Apollo said, with the same warm smile adorning his face.
“Please, don’t remind me of how much I’m going to miss you!” Klavier said loudly. “I don’t know how to make friends anymore, I’m going to be so annoying to you during the trip. I’m warning you to expect phone calls at ungodly hours.”
“You’ll be fine, it’s not like you lost all your social skills during your time being friends with me, I know I didn’t contaminate you with the antisocial disease in its full potential.” Apollo replied, trying to reassure Klavier, but also hoping to make him laugh again. He somehow couldn’t get enough of that beautiful sound.
The musician laughed, exactly as Apollo had hoped to hear it; sweet, warm and melodious. It was almost a symphony.
“You reminded me, I started talking about that bottle of wine but I quickly forgot the reason I brought it up, thanks to you my dear, dear Herr Forehead,” Klavier teased. “I wanted to invite you over tomorrow so we pop that bottle open as a sort of, goodbye party for me? Since I’m leaving? I don’t know, I didn’t think much about it until I spotted the bottle to be perfectly honest.” He sheepishly said.
Apollo raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure that’s the only celebration we’re having tomorrow?” He tried to get the other man to say otherwise, because he knows for a fact that the next day would also coincide to be Klavier’s birthday.
Klavier chuckled a little at his friend’s inquiry. “We’ll celebrate whatever you want us to celebrate, Herr Forehead. It’s only going to be me and you, so don’t stress yourself. Here’s your proof that you did, in fact, infect me with antisocial disease.”
Apollo’s heart raced slightly at that small detail. He pretended to ignore that involuntary reaction. He shook his head in disbelief and smiled playfully at Klavier: “Sure, I’ll be there. You can’t really call it an antisocial party without patient zero.”
Klavier laughed again and Apollo might have been intoxicated already, just from that sound alone. He got out of his reverie by hearing the sound of his watch beeping, already declaring his time with Klavier over for today. The latter understood what that meant and started to get ready to leave.
“Let me walk you to court, then. I don’t start until nine but I know you have to meet with the judge before today’s trial.” He said, helping Apollo gather his belongings, even if it was just his phone, his notebook, and some packets of sugar that he loved to “steal” from the café. Klavier noticed at that moment that the last uneaten cookie was still on the table. He grabbed it and put it in Apollo’s hand without thinking twice.
“For the road.” Klavier winked at him.
It was in front of the judge’s chambers, while wiping stray cookie crumbs from the corner of his mouth, where Apollo realized that his heart was still beating wildly.
February 14th, 2027
When Apollo showed up in front of Klavier’s apartment door, he was somehow still feeling anxious. He couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that this would be the last time he would be seeing Klavier. It felt weird, unusual. He usually didn’t allow himself to think deeply about what he felt. By Apollo’s logic, when you feel and eventually need to express said feelings, you become more vulnerable and are automatically going to get hurt; and the conclusion would be to push it down and lock it away. However, deep down, he knew it wasn’t the healthiest of habits, because he knows that he is a very emotional person. He was learning, though, through Trucy who never once hid her emotions around him. He could never forget her expression the moment Phoenix introduced them to each other again, for the first time as siblings. She was sobbing hard and hugging her new brother even harder. It was a beautiful mess. He looked at Thalassa, standing in the corner of the room, and thought about how sad it was that she wasn’t able to witness how beautiful her daughter looked, ugly crying in his arms.
Therefore, he decided to work on himself. Allow himself to feel his feelings without shame and without judgment. He saw how Klavier was trying, as well. Seeing the people closest to him be strong was all it took to push him to try.
When the front door suddenly opened, Apollo was met with a very smiley, very cozy looking Klavier. His hair wasn’t neat and tidy like it always looked, with defined curls so shiny it almost looks like he stepped out of a movie set; it seemed instead like it was pulled hastily in a bun, with some stubborn hairs framing his face. Another important accessory to complete the scene were the round, silver wire framed glasses that he never wore in public.
To simply say that Apollo was amazed at this sight wouldn’t do his feelings justice. It was like he was seeing Klavier from an angle where the sun hit differently, like he was a whole different person. What made the situation more appealing to Apollo’s eyes, is knowing that his friend was the same kind, loving, and sincere man that he trusts.
“Apollo, please come in, I was waiting for you.” Klavier opened the door with a wide grin on his face, suddenly parting the proverbial curtains open for Apollo to step on the stage of the theater that was Klavier’s apartment.
He shouldn’t be surprised, he had seen Klavier’s place countless times before; whether it was when the early sun hit the prisms hung by the living room bay window, or when he was mindlessly admiring how beautiful the moon looked from Klavier’s bedroom balcony: Apollo was always struck with awe every time he stepped foot into his friend’s beloved place that he created for himself.
“So glad you’re finally here, I was having a staring contest with the wine bottle and it was almost winning. Thank god you rang the doorbell in time.” Klavier said, pulling the shorter man into a quick hug as soon as he crossed the threshold. Apollo laughed at his friend’s joke, closing the door behind him and setting his messenger bag on the floor.
“Well, player two is here now.” He said, carefully removing his thick red jacket. Klavier gracefully took it from him, ever the gentleman, and hung it on the nearby coat rack so it wouldn't wrinkle. It was these little, gentle and subtle actions Klavier did, just like second nature, that made Apollo overheat and turn the same shade as his jacket. Before he could spiral into a dangerous chain of thought, he quickly reached for his bag by his feet.
“Wait, before we start drinking, I need to give you this in case I forget later.” He said, heart still beating fast when he looked inside, searching for the carefully wrapped gift that he packed before leaving his house.
Of course, he wouldn't forget about Klavier’s birthday. Even though the other man made it seem like he didn’t put his special day as the priority of today’s celebration, Apollo would make sure that his friend would have a memorable and fun birthday, even if it was just the two of them.
He grabbed the gift, gently put it in Klavier’s hands and said fondly: “Happy birthday Klavier, I really hope you like this.”
It was a beautiful moment, really; a touching gesture between the two friends, if not for the fact that Klavier immediately pulled Apollo into a bone crushing hug and lifted the smaller man into the air.
“I’m so happy, mein Gott! Thank you, thank you, thank you Herr Forehead you’re the best!” Klavier exclaimed, filled with genuine happiness.
“Listen, I’m very happy that you’re happy but please put me down for the love of god!” Apollo said, trying to get his friend to get him back on the ground, but also not attempting to hide his smile.
Once on steady ground, he added: “Plus you didn’t even see what I got you yet! What if you don’t like it? What if it’s a glitter bomb? It wouldn’t be so funny when you find glitter still stuck to the carpet in like ten years.”
Klavier chuckled at his friend’s creative imagination. “Ah, I wouldn’t worry if I were you, Herr Forehead. I know that I would absolutely love anything if it’s coming from you.” He winked at him, instantly turning the other man that same jacket-shade red. He then looked at the gift in his hands, and started removing the wrapping carefully. “Plus, who are you kidding? You know half my personality is glitter.”
The moment Apollo saw that beautiful deep red leather bound journal in the crafts store next to the Agency office, he knew he had to buy it. Sure, he initially dropped by the shop to get a gallon of emergency pink paint (because of course everyone needs emergency pink paint) to help his sister paint her props last minute for her show that night. He was still captivated by the journal though, unable to stop looking in its direction even during check out. On his way out, with his paint bagged and receipt in hand, Apollo thought: “ to hell with it ” and made an embarrassing human U-turn back to the register.
Maybe it was the engraved texture of leaves and branches in the leather, maybe it was the little golden sunflower pendant dangling from the dark brown string that was meant to pull the cover closed, and maybe it was the way Klavier traced the spine of the journal with his finger, slowly discovering this treasure, that made Apollo think that maybe, it was worth everything.
Klavier already knew, in a way, as soon as he touched the journal, that this little gift was going to be treasured beyond any other possession. He also sensed that it was going to be his close companion and confidant for the long time he was about to spend abroad. It was as if this little red journal was going to be the small piece of Apollo that Klavier could carry around with him, aside from the place he always occupied in his heart.
“I think this is love at first sight, Apollo. Is adore a strong word? Because I adore it already!” Klavier said enthusiastically. “I can’t wait to write every thought that goes through my mind in here, this way I won’t annoy you too much with my ramblings.” He added, jokingly.
Please annoy me. Apollo caught himself saying in his mind. He was glad he didn’t say those words out loud because part of him knew he would be stupid enough to do that. He quickly shook his head, almost bashful. He reached into his bag again looking for the other, heavier, thing that he brought with him.
“I’m very glad you liked the present, Klavier. Now, let’s start with the wine while these go in the fridge.” He said, swiftly handing his friend a six pack of his favorite beer.
“And here I thought I was the German one!” Klavier said, smirking at his friend’s welcome suggestion.
After struggling a little with pulling the corkscrew from the bottle, both men were finally seated on Klavier’s couch with wine glasses in hand, finally satisfied with hearing the little clink sound of their toast. In front of them, the now opened bottle was keeping the red journal company on the low coffee table.
“So, tell me. Where will you be landing tomorrow?” Apollo asked, tentatively taking a sip. Klavier was right, damn this wine is good.
“Southern France, in the city of Nice I believe. Then we'll be taking the train to Monaco. It's going to be the first destination on the project.” The musician answered, after taking a long sip from his own wine. It was his favorite for a reason.
Apollo recalls the details of Klavier’s project, he knew already that the first stop on the coasts of the Mediterranean was going to be the microstate known as the Principality of Monaco. He remembers because he looked it up as soon as Klavier told him about it, vividly imagining his friend visiting different countries and practicing his art with passion. The question was pointless, really, but what mattered the most was hearing Klavier talk about something he was excited about.
Klavier takes another big sip of his wine. He closes his eyes, exhales slowly, then confesses: “My heart is about to leap from my chest just thinking about it. I somehow feel like I'm not ready to leave tomorrow.”
He looks at his friend, blue eyes filled with melancholy.
“Don’t get me wrong, I’m really excited, but just thinking about leaving everything for six months is driving me a bit insane… I don’t know how to really explain it.” He added, unsure.
Apollo had an answer ready for him: “Well, what are you afraid of leaving behind?”
Klavier put his now empty glass on the coffee table. He wasted no time filling another.
“My job, primarily. I’m going to miss prosecuting so much; working on cases, investigating, catching the culprit, finding the truth together while standing on the bench across from you. It became such a big part of my life I don’t know how to live without it.”
Of course Apollo knew this already, he should’ve been prepared for this answer. He knows Klavier is so passionate about his job. Just as music flows in his veins, law flows just the same. He knows this because he can feel the blazing passion when they’re in court together.
“I know how you feel.” Apollo says. “But you’ll come back to this life eventually, it’s not like the courtroom or the prosecutor’s office is going anywhere….Hell, it’s not like I’m going anywhere either.” He adds, dryly. No matter how much he’s trying to work on dealing with the pessimistic little voice in the back of his mind, he sometimes still listens when it preaches that life doesn’t have much to offer him anyways, so why hope?
Klavier, having finished his second glass of wine, had a lazy smile forming on his face. “You’re right. What am I going to do without you, Herr Forehead?” He says, looking at his friend with half-lidded eyes. “I think I’m just nervous because I feel like I’m going to miss you more than intended.”
Apollo doesn’t think he’s tipsy enough to process the words Klavier just said to him in the most normal, casual tone. He feels for a split-second, the tiny amount of alcohol he just consumed shooting up to his brain. That would maybe explain his sudden dizziness, the intense heat engulfing his face, or the way his heart stuttered.
He tried his best to keep his composure, as he trained himself to do, completely ignoring the raging mayhem happening in his chest. It really felt like his heart was getting wrapped tighter and tighter enveloped in whatever tape of feeling responsible for making him feel this way. He pretends not to know.
“Well, at least you got something to remember me by.” He managed to answer, vaguely gesturing at the journal between them on the table.
Klavier’s relaxed expression turned into one of surprise; as if an idea suddenly struck his (now tipsy) brain. He doesn’t keep it to himself: “How about… I fuel your postcard collection? So that you’ll have something to remember me by, too?”
Apollo vaguely recalls telling Klavier the story behind the postcard that was held on his fridge door by a crab shaped magnet that probably saw better days. The poor fella had a missing claw and one dangly leg, but it was doing a great job holding onto the postcard Apollo got himself years ago. He maybe remembers a distant conversation he had with Klavier, the first time he came to his apartment, about the unique piece in his imaginary collection, joking that it was the only one there solely because he never traveled before.
And yet, something about how Klavier remembered that little detail made Apollo’s heart ooze with warmth. He smiles at his friend and holds out his hand.
“It’s a deal then; you get to keep a piece of me, as I get to keep a piece of you.” He says. Klavier smiles back at him, and then takes his hand to shake on it.
As the moon traveled along its path in the deep indigo night, the bottle of wine, now just a tower of glass, captured its tiny reflection from Klavier’s coffee table. Its new companions on the wooden shore, five empty beer cans and an open pizza box seemed to be the only audience captivated by the glass lighthouse.
The two men were now laying across from each other on the tiny couch, their legs forcibly tangled so they could both leave some space for the other. The warmth in their chests was spreading to their entire bodies, and there surely was a little puddle of spilled beer on the floor. Their cheeks were both flushed with a not-so-subtle rosy tint and their laughs could definitely be heard from neighboring apartments. They were too drunk and too happy to care.
Apollo, being the self-proclaimed more rational of the two, remembered with a sting in his heart that it was nearing midnight, and that tomorrow would still be a Monday in the office. Had it been any other occasion, Apollo would have refused consuming any amount of alcohol this late on a Sunday night. Klavier was his only exception.
The prosecutor tried protesting at first, insisting Apollo stay the night, but his friend gently reminded him that he still had some packing to do and that his flight was not going to wait for him tomorrow.
As they cleaned the mess in the living room in relative silence, Apollo realized that the moment he was dreading was just minutes away. He glanced at Klavier, as he made his way to the kitchen. His messy sandy curls were pooling at his shoulders, and his glasses lay on the crown of his head as a substitute for a headband to keep his bangs away from his face. His cheeks were flushed pink, and the dark circles under his eyes were more visible underneath the makeup that started fading away. When he yawned, his tongue piercing briefly flashed under the room lights before he could cover his mouth with the back of his hand, absentmindedly.
Apollo thought that he had never seen Klavier look more handsome. His heart hurts.
Once the room was back to its original state, he gathered his things and opened his phone to call for a cab. What surprised him was his own jacket being gently placed over his shoulders by a Klavier who was already wearing a coat. He smiled lazily at his friend and spoke softly: “Hey, don’t call an Uber. Let’s have a little walk and catch you a taxi on the main street.”
The unspoken message that passed between them at that moment was “ Please, let’s stay together just a little bit longer.”
They made their way down the apartment building stairs, giggling uncontrollably. The fresh midnight breeze hit their warm cheeks so suddenly, it almost sobered them up. They were walking very close, almost shoulder to shoulder if not for their height difference. They weren’t even one block away when Klavier pulled out something from his jacket’s inner pocket. It was only when Apollo heard the opening of a can that he realized that his friend had brought the last beer of the night down with them. Klavier took a big gulp and passed him the drink.
“For a lawyer, you should know better than anyone that drinking in public is illegal.” He remarked, grabbing the can and taking an even bigger gulp.
“Please, this is just a regular evening in Germany.” Klavier replied. He looked at Apollo, feeling amused. “By German rules, this is perfectly legal.”
For a lawyer who’s not used to breaking the law in the middle of the night, Apollo was surprisingly relaxed at this situation. He thought that he could play by Klavier’s rules this time; they were more fun than his own rules anyways.
The can was mostly empty by the time they reached the main street. Apollo silently wished it would magically refill. He could see the taxis parked on the side of the road much more clearly now. He didn’t know if his vision was getting blurry or if he wished he couldn’t see them yet. Klavier was silent when he raised his arm to call for one.
As the car started heading their way, Apollo turned to look at his friend, his sad gaze betraying his bleeding heart. Klavier looked back at him, the same expression reflecting on his own face. They were standing very close.
“Please text me when you land, okay?” Apollo managed to find the words through the millions and millions of thoughts rushing through his mind in this moment; although they weren’t really what he meant to say.
“Ja, Apollo, I will.” Klavier replied, adjusting the collar of his friend’s jacket.
Slowly, Apollo could see Klavier getting even closer. His cheeks were overheating and his mind was sending him alerts. With a swift motion, the taller man leaned down and swiftly pressed a kiss on his cheek. It lasted for maybe two seconds before he pulled away. Apollo’s operating system officially bluescreened.
Klavier sensed his friend’s surprise, his expression lightening as he giggled: “Ah, I’m sorry I startled you, Herr Forehead.” He ruffled Apollo’s hair “My brain was still tuned after German rules. Had we been in Germany, you would’ve gotten used to that.”
Apollo’s bracelet tightened for the first time that night, and he didn’t understand why.
Klavier opened the taxi door for him, and while he physically got into the car, his mind was left there where Klavier stood on the side of the road. He kept his eyes locked on him as the car drove off, savoring the last moment he could see his friend. His heart hurts.
The driver never asked for directions, Apollo realizes. He quickly apologized and started to tell them where they should be heading, when they interrupted him.
“Ah no need, your date already told me where to go. You must be lucky to have spent such a wonderful Valentine’s day with that gentleman. If I were you, I wouldn’t let that one get away.”
He felt his face heating up for the umpteenth time that night, because of course- of course, it was Valentine’s day. Klavier’s birthday was always on Valentine’s day, how could he forget?
It wasn’t the driver’s fault they assumed they were on a date, after that kiss.
Oh god, the kiss.
Apollo closed his eyes. He wished he could cry at his pitiful situation. Because here he was, in the backseat of a taxi, heading home after spending Valentine’s day with his best friend; a kindhearted, wonderful, amazing man he wouldn’t be seeing for six whole months.
It was such a beautiful night; the breeze was refreshing and the halo circling the moon was illuminating the sky. It was such a perfect night for Apollo to realize, with his heart burning a hole in his chest, that he is hopelessly, desperately in love with Klavier.