Work Text:
It really had just begun with a slight tingle in your throat.
The rays of the sun didn't hesitate to illuminate Los Angeles with the clear absence of clouds present in the sky, simultaneously urging all inhabitants of the city to awaken.
You woke up as everyone else, however with a surge of excitement. You threw your blanket away and immediately stood up to pull the curtains aside, admiring the beauty of the morning.
Perfect weather for your birthday.
Immediately you began preparing yourself; you did have work, of course, so you went into the restroom and quickly freshened up. You had woken up a little late to reward yourself with some extra sleep, so you had to shower and dress yourself faster than usual. You made yourself some toast and tea—noticing that the itchiness at the back of your throat stayed, but didn't pay any heed—and went off to the prosecution’s building.
As you walked through the hallways, you received many ‘happy birthdays’, leaving your throat slightly aching—surely there could be no other reason...
You unlocked your office and stepped inside to see some files situated on the desk—the files you placed yesterday to attend to. You sighed and got to work.
Or at least that was the plan, when one of your fellow prosecutors bursted inside, an expression of pure ecstasy on his face.
“Happy Birthday, Schatzi!”
You gave a polite nod—you would have thanked him properly, but your throat had gotten worse, making you feel uncomfortable when you talked.
In his hands were a small present wrapped in a beautiful patterned sheet. He walked over and handed you the box.
“Your gift.” He winked.
You nodded as he explained, marveling at it in your hand. Placing it on the desk, you turned your head towards him.
“Thank you,” You replied, and were shocked to see how croaky your voice had gotten.
Klavier blinked. “What happened to your voice?”
You groaned as you crossed your arms. “Great. I got a sore throat for my birthday.”
While you were busy sulking, you noticed Klavier laughing silently; you gave him a glare and he stopped, though still grinning.
“I'm sure you'll be fine by the end of work, Liebling. Did you take medicine?”
You shook your head, making Klavier tilt his head.
“How long have you had this?”
“Literally this morning. I thought it'd go away.”
“I have some Ibuprofen, follow me,” He nodded and replied, turning to exit your office.
You blinked but followed, making your way to his office. The best word to describe it was a mess, with papers scattered all over the place. The design was peculiar, with many guitars adorning the shelves to the right and speakers acting as tables to the left.
Klavier reached into a drawer and gave you a bottle of pills and a water bottle, to which you thanked quietly.
You knew it would take time for the medicine to take effect, so you began to wonder if you would have to cancel all plans for today.
You shook your head. No way could you allow something like this.
And the particular dilemma wasn't exactly hidden on your face either, clear from Klavier’s concerned smile. He placed a hand on your shoulder, making you break out of your pining.
“Hey..” He began, his voice a lot quieter. “I said this earlier, but you're gonna be fine. Just a sore throat, ja? I have those all the time when I'm on tour.”
You nodded, keeping your gaze fixated on the guitars. Why you were avoiding eye contact, you weren't sure yourself.
“I got work now, talk to you later,” You quickly said, turning to speed-walk away from his office and into yours. You tried not to feel disappointed when he didn't follow.
It was the end of the day—technically work but with your throat died any hope to enjoy a night out as previously planned. You had even made phone calls of such, and although the medicine was definitely taking effect, it wasn't enough to heal you completely.
A swift look behind you to peer out of the window only sunk your hopes deeper into the abyss—the previously spotless sky was now filled with a barrage of clouds, bringing along sharp winds which swayed the leaves of trees aggressively.
It was probably going to rain.
You had just begun packing up when you heard a few knocks to your office. Deciding that it wouldn't be the smartest of ideas to yell, you approached the door to your office and opened to find the blond prosecutor.
“Hi,” He began, a smirk playing on his lips. He shifted on his feet before continuing, “Considering the weather, I was wondering if you wanted to take a ride instead of walking to your house.”
It was a solid question, to which you really couldn't say no. You and Klavier had an interesting relationship—while you two definitely were more than regular co-workers, you both weren't exactly best of friends either. Most of your conversations revolved around cases, but that didn't necessarily mean you didn't think of him as a friend.
He was your friend. And he was looking out for you, so you nodded; you trusted him, anyway.
Plus you didn't want to get soaked whenever the shower would begin from the sky, potentially adding onto your sickness.
He gave a small nod and waited until you finished organizing files for tomorrow. Once you locked your office, he took your hand to plant a kiss to your knuckles, winking up at you and motioning to follow him.
It took every bit of strength to not punch him right in his pretty face, and despite all your efforts, you broke out in a smile.
You watched water droplets racing to the edge of the window, feeling an odd sense of nostalgia rush over you. Turning your head, you watched Klavier drive through the streets.
It was astonishing to see how intense the rain had gotten in only thirty minutes.
Klavier had spoken to you about how he required a few files from the detention center, and was wondering whether you'd be alright with him driving over and back. It was fair to question, considering that one ride would have been twenty minutes alone, and another twenty to head back, but you didn't want to give him any further troubles and nodded with a smile.
He smiled back.
It only took him about a few minutes inside the detention center, but once he came back in the car his coat had gotten pretty drenched along with his hair from the rain that had begun to pour. He laughed and took his coat off, setting it on the backseat, and you admired how his strands of hair rested on the sides of his face, how his bangs were sticked to his forehead, how his shirt—
Nope. Absolutely not.
You whipped your head to the window, and that's what you’d been doing for a while. It had been thirty five minutes since the two of you left the prosecution's office and the rain had no signs of pausing.
“Hey, with the rain—” You cringed at how hoarse your voice sounded, and cleared your throat. It had been a while since you had spoken, rendering your speech even worse. Klavier didn't pay any attention to it though, only adding a ‘yeah?’ for you to continue, looking over in your direction. He had gotten dry by that point.
You didn't exactly know how to convey this without sounding ungrateful, but you gathered the courage nonetheless.
“My place is a bit far from here, so I was wondering if—”
“If you could stay at my place until the rain died down?” He interrupted.
You blinked. Several times. Making Klavier laugh and turn his head away from you.
“What? I don't want you to stress your vocal cords,” He said, tilting his head.
You shook your head, although Klavier couldn't see as he was paying attention to the road.
Good. Looking at his face would have made it harder.
“No, I mean—you're fine with that?”
You could see him grinning.
“Of course, Schatzi. Hell, I was about to invite you myself—I wouldn't wish for you to catch a cold while running to your house in the rain from the car, ja?”
You slowly nodded, looking at his side profile. “Thanks, I appreciate it.”
“Any time.” He winked.
Finally the two of you made it, the rain still crashing onto the concrete below; you stared at some high-end apartment complex. Klavier and you rushed inside, slightly drenched from the rain, and slowly made your way to the correct apartment.
Klavier opened the door—which was oddly unlocked, but there were probably many security measures to avoid break-ins especially in a complex such as this, so you dismissed any thoughts—and waited for you to step in.
You did, Klavier right behind you, closing the door. Then he switched on the lights, and what followed felt like a fever dream.
As the darkness faded and you readjusted your sight to the light, a chorus of voices simultaneously erupted.
"Surprise!"
"Happy Birthday!"
It took a few moments to register, but when it did, you instantly beamed, finding your work friends running to embrace you in a hug.
You immediately reciprocated and thanked each of them as well as you could. There weren't too many people, which was nice; mostly your closest friends.
And Klavier's, you guessed.
Your eyes scanned the apartment now that you could see, and it was well decorated. How did he orchestrate this so quickly?
You immediately turned around to look at Klavier. And he gazed back, looking at you smugly.
How you wished to wipe that smirk off.
Ah well, perhaps some other time, when your throat was in working condition.
Until then, you enjoyed the evening as much as you could, mouthing a 'thank you' to him.