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“Whenever we get married, you’re taking my last name.”
Apollo tried to pair this with an intense look from his end of the couch, but Klavier was glued to whatever book he was reading.
“‘Whenever we get married…’” he clicked his tongue, and turned a page, still not looking up. “You speak so carelessly of our love, liebling.”
Apollo rolled his eyes. “Do you mind the name change, or not?”
“Hm…” Klavier kicked his feet off the floor and rested them on Apollo’s lap. “Does it matter? As long as we are together, I don’t care what name we use.”
“I knew you’d say that. But I’m seriously asking, Klavier.” he tried to push him off him, but he wouldn’t budge.
“You did not ask. You made a hard statement.”
“Er—Well—Sorry. But I actually want to know if you care.” he kept trying to meet Klavier’s eyes, but apparently they were glued to his book. “Do you care?”
He flipped another page. “I just said I do not.”
Apollo huffed, leaned over, and yanked the damn book out of his hands.
Finally, he looked at him. “Ah. This is serious.” His brows lowered. “You don’t believe me when I say I don’t mind?”
“I do,” Apollo assured him, setting the book to the side. “I also know you, Klavier. And I can tell there’s more to this than you’re showing me.” He crossed his arms. “Two things can be true at once, y’know.”
“Ach…” Klavier moved his feet back down to the floor as he sat up straight. “But I really don’t know what you mean.”
Apollo believed that, too. They kind of had a similar bad habit; while he bottled up his emotions until they exploded, Klavier bottled up his emotions and tossed them into the back of his mind—forgotten, but still there. He needed encouragement to venture into his mind-attic and open them up. And even though Apollo was not nearly as good as Athena at playing therapist, he wasn’t so bad with Klavier.
(Anymore, that is.)
He slid closer to him, until their legs bumped together.
“We should at least try them out,” he said, “it’s only fair to give both our names a shot.”
Klavier shrugged. “Whatever you say, schatz.”
“Okay.” Apollo cleared his throat. “Mine first.”
Klavier Justice. He cleared his throat again, because for whatever reason, Klavier having his surname was making heat rise to his face. Irritating, considering how long they’d been together!
Klavier saved him with a knowing smile. “Klavier Justice…” he said, slowly, feeling out the words. “It’s not bad, ja?”
“Klavier Justice,” Apollo echoed, and he couldn’t help the smile that spread on his own face. “Not bad at all. I like it.”
“Oh, I know.” Klavier snaked his hand around his waist and drew him even closer. “And that is why we are choosing Justice!” he kissed his cheek. “Problem solved!”
Apollo didn’t say anything to that; he knew he’d catch how deeply unimpressed he was by a simple raise of the brow.
Sure enough, Klavier’s smile turned sheepish. “Ah, right. We are giving both a chance. I do not know why, but…”
Apollo waited for him to expand on that last thought, but he just looked back at him expectantly.
“So,” Apollo said, as patiently as he could, “why don’t you try it?”
Klavier drummed his fingers against his side. “Apollo Gavin…” he clicked his tongue. “It does not roll off the tongue nearly as well as Apollo Justice, ja?”
“I guess not,” Apollo admitted. “But Klavier Justice doesn’t really, either.”
“Sure it does! Besides, your name is important! Not to be blunt—”
“You know I don’t mind blunt,” Apollo cut in.
The corner of his mouth twitched upwards. “I know. Then, let me say—your surname is one of the few pieces of your father you have left. Are you sure you’d want to let that go?”
He… had a point there.
Funny. Before he knew anything about Jove, he couldn’t have cared less about him, only so attached to his surname for the smallest of chances that his mother was both alive, and looking for him. But the scraps Dhurke (and Rayfa) had given him… He felt deeply attached to Justice for a different reason, now. And he knew Klavier knew this.
Still, he wasn’t only Jove’s son; he was Dhurke’s, too.
And so, he countered with: “Names aren’t the only way you can carry on a memory. And anyway, isn’t Gavin important, too?”
“Not as important as Justice,” Klavier sang before planting another kiss on Apollo’s cheek.
Usually, he would roll his eyes at Klavier’s corniness, or even play along with it. But he was starting to see the underlying issue, and Klavier was evidently avoiding that can of worms.
But Apollo wasn’t scared of opening any can of anything, for better or worse.
(Hopefully, this was ‘for better.’)
“You know, it’s not just Kristoph’s name.” He took his hand in his, and gave it a good squeeze. “It’s yours, too.”
He caught Klavier’s eyes go wide right before he turned away.
“I don’t know how you do it,” he whispered.
“Do what?” Apollo leaned to the side, trying to meet his gaze. “Know you?”
“That is not simply knowing me! You are reading my mind!” he grabbed Apollo’s wrist, under his bracelet, and held it up close to his face, inspecting it with squinted eyes. “Does this give you mind reading powers, too? It must!”
“This has nothing to do with my bracelet.” Apollo said, watching his play inspection, amused against his will. “And you’re changing the subject.”
“Fine, fine. I’ll concede.” Klavier let go with a small sigh. “But you forget that although it is my name, it is still his, as well. And I…” his hands fell to his lap, and his smile shrank. “I’m tired of him following me around. I want to be done with him, for good. No more haunting anyone.”
Apollo’s brows pinched together. “I get that, but, I mean—What about the rest of your family?”
That seemed to give Klavier pause, just as Apollo had suspected it would. The two of them were alike in this, too; family meant everything to them. And the rest of the Gavin family were—in his opinion—pretty well worth remembering. Just decent people trying their best.
“You know they won’t mind,” Klavier finally replied. “Especially not my parents. They’re not those kinds of people.”
“Well, yeah, but—that’s not really my point.”
“Then what is?”
“I just…” Apollo reached out and brushed Klavier’s hair away from his face, tucking a few of the strands behind his ear. “I just don’t want you to pretend like your name doesn’t matter to you, too. That’s all.”
Klavier’s eyes flickered. He leaned over and pressed a quick, light kiss to his lips.
“You’re sweet,” he murmured, before sitting back with his typical glimmerous smile. “Okay, baby! How about a compromise?”
“A compromise,” Apollo echoed.
Klavier snapped his fingers. “Hyphenated names are all the rage nowadays! If you insist on keeping my name, then perhaps we should follow the trend, ja?”
“Actually…?” Apollo rubbed the spot between his brows. “That’s not a bad idea. I can’t believe I didn’t even consider it.”
“And, as part of the compromise…” Klavier leaned in close again, bright smile mere inches away. “Your name must be first.”
“Justice-Gavin…” Apollo let the name sink in; he really liked the sound of that! “Hey, I seriously can’t believe I didn’t think of this!”
Klavier laughed, leaning forward as he did. “You’re as cute as ever, Forehead!” he flipped his hair back. “But there’s another elephant in the room, isn’t there?”
“Er, what elephant?” He really didn’t know.
Klavier’s voice dropped, as if he were sharing a secret. “We have yet to discuss getting married in the first place.”
“Oh…” Apollo rubbed the top of his head. “Oops. I, er, kind of assumed...”
They’d tossed the idea around a bit, but looking back, they’d always been playful about the subject.
He dropped his hand, suddenly nervous. “Hey, you do want to get married, right?”
Klavier’s face lit up before he burst into laughter.
“H—Hey!” Apollo’s face warmed. He would’ve been a little more indignant if this were anyone else, but unfortunately, he couldn’t help how watching his partner laugh put a smile on his own face.
Still, he crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes, trying his best to be mad. “I’m being serious.”
“Sorry, Sonnenschein.” he leaned over and kissed him, just long enough to make him melt, arms dropping to his sides. Klavier made quick work of scooping his hands up and squeezing tight. “Of course I want to marry you.”
His stupid heart skipped a beat. It took all his willpower to keep his tone casual. “Right. Just—y’know—just checking.”
“Uh-huh.” Klavier leaned in, wiggling his brows. “Do you have a proposal in mind?”
“A—Actually—” Apollo cleared his throat— “I was kind of hoping you might have a proposal in mind.”
Klavier’s face lit up all over again, and before he could explain his reasoning, he was wrapped up in his arms, and his face was being attacked with kiss, after kiss, after kiss.
“Ah, you indulge me, you really do!” he planted a few more on his cheek, then nuzzled into him.
Good. Klavier had figured it out.
Okay, Apollo could propose. He wouldn’t mind. He also wouldn’t mind just getting married without any ceremony what-so-ever. As long as he and Klavier were officially, legally recognized partners, he didn’t really mind how they got there.
But, if he had to pick… he was really, really curious to see what kind of proposal Klavier would come up with. Plus, he knew how passionate of a romantic he was. He’d probably been dreaming of how he‘d propose since day one.
And, if Apollo was being entirely honest, he’d dreamt of it too. Once or twice. Maybe thrice.
“You have my word,” Klavier said emphatically, “this will be the best proposal of your life!”
Wouldn’t this ideally be the only proposal of my life?
But Apollo had a more pressing concern: “Don’t you dare make it one of those public proposals.”
“Of course not,” Klavier replied without missing a beat, then kissed him full on the lips.
Apollo couldn’t help smiling against him. How had he worried for even a moment? This was Klavier; they knew each other inside-out. So whatever he had in mind…
Actually, the more he thought about it—
He pulled back. “There’s no way you already have a plan, right?”
Klavier pressed his lips into a line, then said, “May—be.”
“You totally do! Wait, but don’t tell me! Wait, wait, wait, actually—give me a hint! Just one!”
Klavier pretended to think, not hiding his amusement very well—it showed through the growing sparkle in his eyes.
“It will be super romantic.”
Apollo punched his arm. “That’s not a hint!”
“Ow!” Klavier dramatically clutched where he’d been hit. “How is that not a hint?!”
“Because obviously it’ll be super romantic! It’s you!” he poked him in the chest for emphasis. “That’s a given, Klavier!”
“Ah, well then, you clearly know me so well, I suppose you don’t need any more hints!” he rose to his feet, stretching languidly. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, darling shatz—I have a proposal to get started!”
Apollo sprang up, blocking his path. “Not until you give me a real hint!”
“A real hint?” Klavier pretended to think again, tapping his chin and staring up at the ceiling, before saying—well, sounds were coming out, but nothing he could understand, and he realized—!
“Cheater!” Apollo gave his arm another good hit. “Tell me in English!”
“No can do, baby!” Klavier sang. “It’s a surprise!”
Apollo huffed. “Fine! Be that way!” He dropped back down to the couch and slumped into it, crossing his arms tight and glaring across the room, to really send the message that he was not happy.
Klavier looked down at him with a raised brow and half smile, clearly not buying the act. “You do realize proposals are usually a surprise, ja?”
Apollo stayed silent.
Klavier leaned down over him, braced himself against the back of the couch, and got really up-close to his face. “Do you really want me to tell you my plan?”
Apollo hmph-ed, turning his face away. “I doubt you even have one!”
“I do. You don’t have to believe me, but I do.” he suddenly sounded serious. “I’ve been thinking about this for a while, Apollo.”
Those words, admittedly, stirred something in his heart, but he kept his nerve steeled and his face turned away.
This did nothing to deter his boyfriend, who kissed his cheek—once, twice. “Really, liebling—” three times— “you know I wouldn’t say all this if I didn’t mean it, ja?”
Apollo did know this, of course he knew this, but he turned his face to the other side, refusing to be won over so easily. But Klavier simply continued his barrage of kisses on the other side of his face.
“You’ll see,” he said in between his attacks, “just be patient. All will be revealed in due time, ja? I’ve already bought the ring.”
Already bought the ring?
Which meant…
Klavier realized his slip-up a second too late; Apollo easily slipped out from under him and dashed down the hall to their bedroom.
He wasted no time kicking his search into gear; he dug through their nightstand, ducked his head under the bed, poked around Klavier’s side of their closet—each to no avail. If only rooms had nervous twitches to focus on…
His gaze fell on their dresser.
Too obvious. No way he would hide it in one of his drawers. That was cliché.
…Although, Klavier was very fond of clichés.
Speak of the devil, Klavier sauntered into the room, evidently at ease. “Any luck, shatzi?”
“Shut up.” Might as well get the obvious wrong answers out of the way. He yanked the top drawer open—
—He spotted the little box tucked away in the corner right before Klavier slammed it shut.
Their eyes met.
“Dude.”
“What?”
“You actually bought one?”
“Sorry, what did I buy?”
“An engagement ring, asshole!”
“An engagement ring…” Klavier hummed with mock thoughtfulness. “Nein, I don’t believe I did…”
“You said you did! And I literally just saw it!”
“Ah! That ring box!” Klavier stood upright, moving his hand to his hip. “Who said it was for you? Perhaps I simply bought a ring for myself?”
Yeah, bluffing was really not his thing.
“Oh, so I can see it—?” Apollo opened the drawer, only for Klavier to slam it shut with an Aht aht aht!
He leaned against the dresser, blew his hair up and away from his face, and looked around like everything was normal and casual.
Apollo snorted. He took a small step back, but he refused to let up all the way. “When’d you buy it?”
Klavier pursed his lips, drumming his fingers against the drawer.
A smile slowly spread across Apollo’s face as his suspicions were confirmed by his silence.
“You bought it right away, didn’t you?”
The drumming stopped. “Define right away.”
“When we started dating.”
“…Define when we started dating.”
Apollo raised his brows. “Dude.”
“Don’t ‘dude’ me! ‘When we started’ could mean anything!”
“How about day one?”
“Gott, no. Even I am not that romantic.”
“Day two?”
“Nope.”
“Okay, how about by the end of our first week? I definitely remember you getting excited over that milestone.”
Klavier hand rose to his ear, rubbing the lobe between two fingers. “Ah, was I?”
Apollo smirked; there was that nervous tic of his! He got him! “You bought it then, didn’t you?”
Sure enough, Klavier was suddenly very interested in the ceiling, squinting up at it. “Hard to say, hard to say…”
“C’mon, just admit it!” Apollo stepped toward him. “I promise I won’t make fun of you.”
“You will, but I suppose there’s no point hiding from you.” Klavier released the dresser and stood up straight, hands raised up in mock surrender, although his voice was nothing but sincere. “I’ve wanted to marry you since the very start. Happy?”
A burst of warmth spread from Apollo’s chest and up to his face, breaking it into a grin. He’d known—or assumed—but hearing it said out loud...
Without a word, he cupped the back of Klavier’s neck and pulled him down into him. Their noses slotted right together, and they fell into their usual languid rhythm. Klavier didn’t miss a beat; his hands fell right into place, secured firmly around his waist, drawing him as close as possible. Apollo’s own hands tightened around the back of his shirt, the base of his hair. A whole new wave of warmth washed over him, and he happily drowned in the sensation, if just for a moment…
Briefly, he wondered if this honeymoon phase they seemed to be stuck in would ever end. He didn’t want it to; he loved loving Klavier like this. And it was nice to have something consistent in his life—for once!
Marriage was pretty damn permanent. The ultimate leap of faith, according to Phoenix Wright. By the sound of it, he should probably have been more scared than he felt.
But that was ridiculous. This was Klavier—why would he ever be scared? However they each grew and changed—because of course they would—it couldn’t possibly be in a different direction. Not anymore.
Crazy; he really didn’t doubt that.
He gave him a last peck on the lips before they broke apart.
“I suppose that answers my question.” Klavier sounded a bit dazed—and looked it, too, with his lips all swollen, and his eyes all glossy, and the way he swayed ever-so-slightly…
“Now answer mine.” Apollo leaned back in, until their foreheads were pressed together. “Give me a real hint.”
Klavier gave him a kiss on the nose instead, and replied cheekily, “That is not a question.”
Oops.
“If you love me, you’ll give me a hint?”
“A demand disguised as a question! Clever, Herr Forehead!”
Apollo jerked his head back with a scoff. “Y’know what? Forget it! I’m gonna figure it out myself!”
“Oh, is that so?”
“It sure is so!”
Klavier drew him closer. “Then I’ll be sure to give you a good challenge, ja?”
Apollo was about to go on about how they only had so many holidays and anniversaries, and only so many special places to them, and he had a literal lie detecting bracelet, but every single point vanished at the look in Klavier’s eyes.
That damn look. The stupidly overly fond one that made Apollo’s heart flip to this day. And it was always worse up close; affection was all but pouring out of his eyes, thick and never-ending, softening his entire expression.
Sometimes, he thought he pulled this face on purpose. But really, he wasn’t sure he was even aware of himself.
“Apollo?”
Apollo blinked. “Oh.” His hands had moved to cup Klavier’s face on their own volition, as if he wanted to catch the adoration that was spilling out.
“There you are.” Klavier chuckled. “I lost you for a second.”
“Nope. Not ever.” Apollo shifted his grip to the back of Klavier’s head. “I’m right here.”
He could’ve added that he had zero intentions of ever leaving Klavier—in fact, he had every intention of making sure they’d never lose each other. He’d fight the Holy Mother Herself if he had to!
Probably.
(Who was he kidding? Of course he would.)
Anyway—he could’ve said this all in words, but by the way Klavier smiled—dazzling and radiant—and the way he kissed him—warm and sweet—he knew, without a doubt, they were on the same page.
Still, it’d be nice to know…
“Hey, have you ever thought about a Valentine’s day proposal?”
“Nice try, baby.”
“Damn it.”