Chapter Text
There was probably a point in which Klavier should have realized there was a problem.
Upon review, he was sure that he would find some significant moment that would have stuck out, crying that he was acting like a fool. That he was hurting no one but himself and the man with him. But, in a fog of alcohol and ignorance, he pressed on and ignored any of those potential signs. Anything that indicated the turn the night would take would have to be considered in sober hindsight. An embarrassment for another day.
For all intents and purposes, as it was happening, he thought things were going pretty well. Apollo was paying attention to him, he was supposedly being impressive, and the two of them both seemed pretty loose. After a few cases of knowing Apollo as an uptight tough nut to crack, it felt special to see him with brief smiles and the flush of alcohol brushed over his face. Today had been a good decision—that was what he told himself as he tipped back whatever cocktail he'd been on at the time.
Maybe it was the booze. Booze has never been a good addition to potentially life-changing meetings.
Klavier was a rich man, a famous man. And yet he felt his most privileged in that moment. A casual, dressed-down Apollo Justice sitting alone with him. He could take his time to make out every detail: the shine of his eyes, the glow of neon lights on bare arms—it was magical. He'd previously arranged a VIP table in the nightclub, far enough from the noise to have a conversation, but close enough to hear it thrum through the building. The prosecutor had practically carved the evening with a chisel, it was so meticulously put together. And it had to be. One errant move could have screwed it all up (evidently, he didn't it think all the way through, given the outcome). The whole mess had resolved itself, and now he could do what he'd been wanting to do for weeks.
Guided by all of his confidence, he'd let his hand wander to wrap around Apollo's, and he hadn't pulled away. It was all going as well as he'd hoped. Maybe even better than that.
“You know,” Klavier said, his voice slightly raised to make sure it came in clear, “I don't think you give yourself enough credit, Herr Forehead.” Apollo let out a laugh so small that Klavier couldn't hear it. He tucked a stray brown hair behind his ear, and a smile crept onto his face. He had a nice smile. Hadn't Klavier thought that so many times when he'd seen him before? He should have told him that sooner. At this point, it might seem like he was laying it on too thick, so he kept it to himself. He could use it at a later time, when he wanted to see that smile again. Apollo always had a variety of reactions to being complimented. Sometimes he would pout or dismiss him, but other times he smiled like that. And Klavier couldn't resist the opportunity, even if the odds may have been against him.
It seemed almost like he was meeting Apollo for the first time. Sure, they'd gotten to know each other through work, and through...that unpleasant situation, but in many ways, the two men were almost strangers. All Klavier knew was that something within Apollo attracted him in a way that other people hadn't before. That was enough to get Klavier to ask him to come out to the club that night. It was also enough to make Klavier giddy at the acceptance-even if he couldn't show it to Apollo's face. One had to keep up cool, relaxed appearances.
He'd already learned a few things in this meeting. One of these was that Apollo didn't like to dance. He'd asked him a few times, to no avail, but that was okay. That wasn't what he was here for. He'd learned that Klavier liked trying different cocktails every time he went out, and Apollo liked beer and malt drinks. He wanted things to be simple and easy to understand, and that was also okay. Klavier wasn't in this for alcohol preferences. He'd come here for one thing mainly, and it had nothing to do with minor details-though he was glad to know them.
He appreciated the opportunity to learn these new things about the other man. It felt special, like secrets that only so few people would be let in on. How many knew how Apollo Justice looked in casual setting, without his signature suit and badge on his lapel? He was definitely privileged at that time.
He hadn't even expected Apollo to say yes to the invitation to go drinking with him. But maybe the proposition was too tempting to pass up. "We've both had a rough few weeks." Klavier had said, to which Apollo nodded slowly in response. "I think we need a break." Though he might not admit it, Apollo was the kind of guy who always needed a break. While he might not have spoken the words, Klavier could see it in his eyes. He couldn't perceive the inner workings of someone's mind like Apollo could, but sometimes one didn't need strange abilities to tell when someone was in need of something desperately.
So it had all worked out better than expected. For the most part.
They'd been sitting at the small table for a while in relative comfort, talking about work and what had been happening around town. They'd been handling different cases lately, and Apollo said that Mr. Wright was debating seeking out new lawyers for the agency. He'd wanted attorneys who were unique and had abilities beyond a standard repertoire.
"Like you, ja?" Klavier had said with a smile, and Apollo looked down at his drink in embarrassment. He knew that he was good at being a defense attorney, sure, but didn't think that he was very special. In the prosecutor's eyes, that was definitely wrong. To him, Apollo stuck out in a crowd for all the right reasons. If he didn't they wouldn't have been sitting at that table, after all. Someone who he didn't deem interesting wouldn't get that much investment into a few hours of privacy.
“Um,” Apollo stammered, rubbing at one of his ears slightly, “can we go outside? It's a little loud up here.” Klavier's heart pounded, and he nodded. Maybe he'd nodded too excitedly at the request, maybe that was it. Looking desperate wasn't a good idea. But if there was any indication that Apollo was turned off then, it didn't show on his face. They left their drinks behind, a significant tip laid on the table, and they filed out into the streets outside of the club.
Klavier could not help but feel that things were about to change, one way or another, based on how he handled the next few minutes. So they had to be handled with care, of course. This was Apollo he was talking about.
-
It was strangely quiet for that part of the city. They'd been out fairly late, and Klavier checked his phone to see that it was a little after two in the morning. They'd arrived at a late hour in the first place, so it shouldn't have been too surprising. And yet, Klavier couldn't shake the feeling that the two of them had really lost track of time between the alcohol and the conversations about the previously unknown. Getting to know someone you like can suck you in sometimes. To the point of staying out too late when you have plans to put into motion.
"It's late," he heard Apollo remark. He hadn't even checked the time. He just knew.
Apollo didn't seem that tired, just slightly tipsy (not unlike the man he'd gone out with). He thought about where he'd end up sleeping tonight. Who he'd end up sleeping with. He could have laughed at the fantasy of it all. But in that moment, it seemed possible. The ideas he'd had running through his head in the middle of the night, staring at the ceiling, finally seemed to be tangible. His only hurdle was to not screw up from this point out.
(As he would often go on to tell himself for days, weeks, months to come...he had, in fact, failed to jump this hurdle.)
Apollo was scratching the side of his nose, wide eyes taking in the nighttime city. He unbuttoned his shirt slightly, just leaving his collarbone exposed. “It's...really hot for November...” Apollo grumbled, still pulling at his collar. There was something frustrated about him. But that was to be expected, after all. They'd both been through a lot.
Maybe that was it. Maybe they'd been through too much.
“Herr Forehead,” Klavier said suddenly, perhaps too authoritatively. He didn't like how he sounded when he put that voice on, not even in court. It wasn't him. That voice belonged to someone else, and it shouldn't have been in his throat. Especially not on that night.
He saw Apollo's head turn suddenly, staring at him with wide eyes. Maybe a part of him had been expecting this kind of a conversation to come up. His specialty was perceiving the less obvious, after all. “Y-yes?” he mumbled, his finger still hooked into his collar. Klavier came slightly closer, but Apollo didn't move. He wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not.
“I, ah, wanted to ask you something important tonight.” Apollo still hadn't budged, his finger still curled around shirt fabric. Klavier briefly eyed his clavicle, exposed in late fall darkness. A part of the situation felt forbidden, like something he hadn't been previously allowed entry to. Simultaneously, it felt almost off-balance. The alcohol didn't help. He reached out, gently took Apollo's hand away from his collar, and held onto it. The feeling of their skin touching so intimately was strange, but enjoyable. It was something that Klavier had only really imagined in brief daydreams. Still yet, Apollo didn't move or pull away.
“And...I mean that. That it's important.” Apollo's eyes were locked with his. He wondered if he was doing that perception trick on him. Klavier suddenly became acutely aware of his racing heart, his warm face. He hadn't really noticed before. There was a lot going on.
“What is it?” Apollo asked plainly, like there was nothing to consider here. Klavier's bleary mind ran off with that tone. Did he even care? But then again, he didn't even know what Klavier wanted to ask. Maybe he was just too buzzed to decipher what kind of conversation he was getting at. But maybe he just wanted to be informal with the other man, which was fair enough. They were just some friends out having a good time...about to have a talk that could turn the entire relationship onto its head in the darkness outside of a fancy nightclub.
Fine. If they were going to be casual, then so be it.
“I'm attracted to you,” Klavier said plainly, his hand still gingerly holding onto Apollo's. “I'm into you,” he added, trying to make his point as clear as possible. Apollo's eyes grew wider still, and the little light in the street reflected onto brown irises. Had he really not expected it?
“Oh,” Apollo said, not pulling his hand away still. “Really?” This wasn't exactly the reaction that Klavier had been expecting. He'd admittedly, in the back of his mind, hoped for some kind of swooning or something. But, at the same time, he also knew that wasn't a realistic approach. Apollo wasn't like a groupie or even a fellow celebrity. He didn't swoon for fame, and he didn't care how many rings Klavier wore on his fingers. His world was paperwork and negotiation, and most frivolities were not allowed past the doorstep.
That was part of what made him so attractive. To most of the world, he was “Klavier Gavin, the amazing rock star whose smile could light up a town.” To Apollo, he was just “Prosecutor Gavin,” an eccentric guy that he worked with. It was a relief. Like a vacation within an interpersonal relationship. He wondered how Apollo considered him below the surface. What did he like about Klavier? Did he like anything?
He had been hoping for maybe a smile, or some kind of reaction for him to be able to read either a positive or a negative reception from the other man. But the one that he'd gotten had been so...vague, meaningless. Like he'd pointed to one of the puddles on the ground around them and told him that it had rained earlier. But Apollo was an unpredictable type. And it was better to not know if he was happy with it than to be sure that he wasn't.
So, yes, maybe "Oh, really?" was a good answer. Maybe things were working out, even if it wasn't quite how the prosecutor had anticipated.
“Ja, really,” Klavier spat out, improvising from that point forward. Apollo's reaction was not part of the plan. “I, ah...” The alcohol was blurring his senses. Booze was definitely a bad idea, regardless of whether or not it was the decisive factor in his failure. “I...d'you wanna be my boyfriend?” he said, frustrated with the words not coming out right. That was sloppy. Too forward. He grit his teeth. “I'm sorry, this is coming out wrong...I just like you...I really do, I-”
“I like you too,” Apollo said finally, his hand tightening around Klavier's. He thought his heart stopped for a half-second. Had he really just said that?
“I'm sorry?” Klavier asked, pulling his hair behind his ears to make sure he was hearing as clearly as possible.
“I like you too," Apollo repeated, quietly this time. Klavier exhaled deeply, briefly mediating on his next course of action, then moved to lean in slightly.
He could kiss him, right? They liked each other. He'd even double-checked. It was just a kiss, nothing too serious. He saw Apollo moving towards him as well, but as their foreheads pressed together, and he could hear shallow breaths coming from between Apollo's lips--
Fingers haphazardly pressed against Klavier's chest, hard.
Klavier being shoved away suddenly, slipping on the rain-wet concrete under his feet.
Falling onto his ass, his hands scraped by the ground under him with aggression.
Looking up and ahead to see Apollo staring at him, then at his own hands. The gold of his bracelet glinted against the street lights.
Klavier said nothing, just stared back. Hadn't Apollo been reciprocating? Maybe he came on too strong. He did worry that maybe he seemed a bit too desperate throughout the night, especially for a rock star.
“I...” Apollo stammered, looking back at the other man, still silently staring on the ground. “I'm really sorry!” he shouted, and ran off.
“Herr Forehead!” Klavier screamed after him, getting up off of the ground. His hands were dirty and aching. He shook himself slightly. This wasn't the time for nicknames. “Apollo!” he called, but the other man kept running down the street, away and away. Klavier felt a flurry of emotions at once. He was worried, knowing that Apollo was buzzed and running off alone in the middle of the night. He was scared that he'd fucked up their entire relationship, platonic or otherwise, with that genius move from a moment ago. He was angry that he'd caused all this, somehow.
“Apollo!” he cried again, but he was out of sight. Klavier could go running after him, but he was messy himself. He waited a few moments, hoping he'd see Apollo round the corner and come back, at least let Klavier call him a ride home. He sat for ten minutes, then let out a groan of frustration. He took out his phone, and scrolled through his contacts until he found the name “Phoenix Wright.” He dialed and waited for an answer. He dreaded having to explain himself.
He was too numbed now. In the crash of a hungover morning, he'd have to reevaluate what had happened. He wasn't looking forward to it.