![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
mllelaurelFandom: Ace Attorney
Title: The Past Is Another Land
Characters: Klavier Gavin, Kristoph Gavin, Apollo Justice
Pairings: Klavier/Apollo, Kristoph/Apollo
Rating: M/R
Warnings: Some explicit sexual language, though no onscreen sex.
Summary: Kristoph's not above using his past relationship with Apollo, in order to mess with Klavier. (Written for the Phoenix Wright Kink Meme.)
"I love Apollo with Klavier, but I also have a sick and twisted love of him with Kristoph.
I think it would be nice to have a story where Klavier and Apollo are in steady relationship, then one day Klavier goes to visit his brother in prison and Kristoph choses to try to hurt Klavier emotionally by using his relationship with Apollo.
I want to see Kristoph taunting Klavier about what he used to do to Apollo, and what Apollo would let him do/do for him. It can be almost anything you want, I don't like blood, piss or scat so please do not include them, and whether or not Kristoph is telling the truth about what he used to do is up to you, you can have it confirmed by a horrified and humiliated Apollo, denied, left up to the imagination, I don't care. All I want is a serious attempt by Kristoph to fuck up his brother's happiness and really stab him in the feels."
“I’ve had him right here, once, did you know that?” Kristoph’s voice hissed in his ear. “Right here, on this very bed, where the guard could have seen it. He kept his eyes squeezed shut the entire time, like his own blindness would guarantee his privacy.” Kristoph chuckled. “He can be such a child, sometimes.”
Klavier was only seconds away from decking him, from laying him flat and paying whatever fines he had to, in the aftermath. If they cared so much about keeping this particular prisoner safe, they’d put him behind glass, where he belonged.
“You have to be careful with him,” Kristoph continued. “He bruises so easily, and he never complains, so you don’t notice, till after the fact, when you realize it’s been a week and he’s still got your marks on his wrists and hips. It’s gratifying, really.”
How did he walk into this trap? He’d been so careful to keep Apollo out of the conversation. Certainly, he hadn’t mentioned their budding relationship. It was still too new, too easily broken, and Kristoph had lost the right to know anything personal about either of them anyway.
No, Kristoph himself had been the one to bring up Apollo, and that’s where Klavier had made his first mistake. Never show that you care. That’s the flank you’re opening up to his attacks. He should have just shrugged, changed the subject, but not too quickly. Made a joke that didn’t sound too forced. ‘Leave Apollo out of this’ was practically an invitation. All the intelligence the enemy would need to begin their assault.
“And you know what the best part is?” Kristoph’s hand tightened in the collar of his shirt. “It’s how insatiable and eager to please he is. You can have him on his knees with a flick of your eyes, his mouth around your cock, and moaning like a whore all the way down.
“I do hope you’re keeping him satisfied. I’ve had no choice but to remit him to your care, after all, Little Brother.”
Klavier did punch him, then, fist going nearly numb with the force of it. Kristoph simply dabbed the blood from his mouth with a handkerchief, and smiled, like a perfect angel.
***
Apollo was home, by the time he returned. The Wright Anything Agency (technically Wright, Justice and Cykes now, but everyone still called it that) was between cases, and Klavier’s apartment (their apartment) was a calmer place to do paperwork than Wright’s cluttered office. He was chewing on the back of his pen. Klavier had offered a million times to get him a new laptop, after the old one broke down, but the silly little man seemed to like working his wrists into an early death by carpal tunnel.
Klavier found himself trapped in the doorway, caught between wanting to cling to the younger man and wanting to flee. Wanting to spill every last detail of his visit before the stern confessional of Apollo’s brown eyes; wanting to lock it all up inside his chest, and never speak of it again.
There were no villains here, save perhaps Kristoph himself, but somehow, he still felt like the transgressor, knowing things he should never have learned.
Apollo looked up at him, while he was still making up his mind. “You look like someone pissed in your Cheerios, flash-froze it, and dropped the resulting brick on your head.”
Klavier kicked off his boots, made his way over to the couch and collapsed on it. The leather upholstery squeaked against his pants. “Ugh. That’s a metaphor I could have done without.”
“Bad case?”
“Bad relatives.”
“It’s that time of the month, right.” Klavier had been nothing if not a dutiful brother. The second Wednesday of every month was reserved for visiting Kristoph. He had yet to miss one, no matter how many times he claimed he never wanted to see the man again.
“I didn’t know. About you and him.” A clumsy way of putting it, but now it was all out in the open, Klavier supposed.
Apollo’s pen dropped to the floor with a click, as he turned the color of overboiled spinach. “You know, I should have figured he’d kiss and tell.” He was trying to keep it light, but his shaky voice gave him away.
“The man’s worse for one’s privacy than the NSA,” Klavier joked, right back at him, and Apollo gave him a strained laugh, in return.
‘I’m not mad,’ the banter signalled. It had always been one of their personal, unspoken codes.
Klavier stole a sip of congealing coffee from Apollo’s mug, before asking the most important question. “Did you want it?”
If Kristoph had forced him, or even used his influence as Apollo’s employer to ensure Apollo’s compliance, then this was no longer a matter of sex. If that’s how it happened, he’d deal with it as the felony it was. He’d ram the case down Kristoph’s throat or die trying, pending only Apollo’s permission, no matter how hard it might be, getting rape charges to stick. Kristoph had managed to avoid the death penalty, so far, but it wouldn’t take much to tip the balance.
But Apollo’s nod came, before Klavier even finished his sentence. He was looking away, but Klavier could tell it was out of embarrassment, not because he was lying.
“It was… It was good. You know, everyone’s got those stupid fantasies, where someone walks into your life, cool as hell, and they want you. No bullshit, no stumbling, and you know they won’t take no for an answer, and that’s actually kind of hot.” He shook his head. “Or maybe that’s just me.”
It wasn’t just him. Klavier knew confidence was sexy. Had banked on it for countless one-night stands. With Apollo, though, he never felt as cool as he’d have liked. Oh, sure, he was above begging or whining, and pretending he wasn’t one of the most attractive men in the United States was just fishing for compliments, but with Apollo, Klavier knew how little any of that mattered. Apollo could do better than him, because Apollo deserved the best there was.
He’d never been so scared of losing someone. Countless moves, from the US, to Germany and back, killed any possibility of a serious relationship in his teens. He’d never been good at long distance. The one-night stands? Those were one-night stands. You couldn’t lose them. You never had them to begin with. Daryan had been different, of course. They’d screw, they’d make music, and sometimes they’d fight, sure. But they always knew they’d cool down and come back, eventually, because that’s what best friends did. Until that time they both turned away and didn’t come back anymore.
“It was supposed to stay just a fantasy,” Apollo said. “Until it didn’t. And the next thing you know, the office door is locked and I’ve got my pants around my ankles. He was very polite, afterward, and I promised it wasn’t a big deal. So it just. Kept happening. The work still got done, and I still learned a lot about law, so I thought it wasn’t getting in the way of our, um, professional relationship.”
“‘Professional relationship, huh? You’re the one who sounds cool as a cucumber, here.”
Apollo cringed. “As if. I had no fucking clue what I was doing, and I knew - I knew - the other shoe was going to drop, any day now, but no one had paid attention to me like that, before. ...Wow, that sounds pathetic.”
“And then, the shoe dropped.”
Apollo snorted. “And then the shoe turned out to be made of cement is more like.”
Klavier scrubbed a hand through his hair. “He said… He said it happened at least once, after he was arrested.”
Apollo looked away again. “It was after Mr. Wright’s trial. I- I wanted to know if he was okay. I wanted to know why, or whether I’d made some kind of mistake. And then, I wound up apologizing, and he was so understanding about it. There were tells everywhere, but I didn’t want to see any of them. For one night, I just wanted to believe he didn’t do it. Evidence be damned. Funny, huh? Exactly the opposite of what he taught me, but he sure made use of it, when it was convenient for him.”
“You- you cared for him, didn’t you?” Klavier forced himself to say the words out loud. They weren’t the right words, exactly, but they would have to do.
“Of course I did!” Apollo looked offended. “You think I’d have let him fuck me if I didn’t care? Maybe it’s what playboys like you do, but I’m not-” He stopped, mid-sentence. “That wasn’t fair. Sorry.”
He had to go there, didn’t he? “Right. We were talking about how much I sleep around. Remind me again, cause I forgot.” Nothing wrong with casual sex, except for the part where everyone would throw it back in his face, sooner or later.
Apollo sighed, exasperated. “Look. I said I was sorry.”
Klavier forced his jaw to relax. “It’s fine.”
But Apollo wasn’t ready to let it go. “If you’re pissed at me, just say so, and stop pretending you’re not.”
“I’m not pretending!” Slamming his fist into the back of the couch was much less painful than doing the same to a wall, but a good deal less satisfying. He took a deep breath, let it out. “Did you even know I existed, back then?”
Apollo shook his head. “I think he had a photo of you in the office somewhere, but you looked like six in it, and we hadn’t actually met.”
“So there you have it. We’re both adults, Apollo. We’ve both slept with other people in the past. If I got mad at you for indulging in something I, myself made a habit of…” That came out sounding vaguely wrong… “Not Kristoph specifically, I mean, but in general. Your past relationships are not something I have a say in.”
“But you don’t like it.” Apollo kept his voice flat.
“Of course I don’t like it,” Klavier conceded. “I’d like to have kept a few more degrees of separation between myself and my brother.” I hate the thought of that psychopath’s hands all over you. I hate the thought of him leeching into your mind, making you think you’re less than you are.
“So if it was someone else, you wouldn’t care?”
“I believe the word you’re looking for is ‘duh,’ Herr Forehead.” He could see Apollo relax minutely, at the sound of the familiar nickname.
“Not even if I said I’d loved them?”
Had he loved Kristoph? The thought of it made Klavier’s gut churn with bile and sympathy, in equal measures. “If they were that important to you, I might demand to meet them. Assuming you were still in touch, of course.”
“But it’s not someone else,” Apollo said, resolute.
“Nein, it’s not.” Do you want him, still? Klavier wanted to ask, too afraid of the answer to say the words out loud.
“Just me, stewing in my own bad decisions.”
“It takes two to tango,” Klavier reminded him, and Apollo shrugged.
“I’d like to believe it was a pretty good decision on his part, actually. I’m not that bad a lay, am I?”
Klavier crossed the room, pulling him into a hug, and nearly getting an elbow in the ribs for his troubles. Apollo never reacted well to surprises. “Nein. You are fantastisch.”
Apollo flashed him a sickly approximation of a cocky grin. “Yeah, and don’t you forget it.”
“Like there’s any chance of that!”
“So, what now?” The question echoed between them.
I love you, Klavier wanted to say, but the words were too dangerous for this time and place. Not when they also meant, please, please don’t leave me. Nothing but emotional blackmail, and Apollo didn’t need any of that.
If Apollo was going to leave, then he’d leave, and Klavier would just have to deal with it. Impromptu confessions would only delay it for a while, making them both more miserable, in the long run.
Apollo’s hand folded around his wrist, around the wooden bracelet he never took off. “What aren’t you saying?” he asked.
“What do we do now?” Klavier repeated. Don’t be a coward. You’ve never been one before. “If he got out of prison, what would you-?”
Apollo started, at the thought. “Get a restraining order probably. And also go, what the fuck, legal system, letting him out? I doubt he’s thrilled with me, after Vera’s trial, and hell, there’s only so much denial a guy can be in, before he’s doing laps in a croc infested Middle Eastern river. He’s a murderer, I was an idiot, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, can we please move the fuck on?”
“I’m not him,” Klavier said, only to be interrupted with a “Yeah? No shit!”
“You know why I went out with you, at first?” Apollo crossed his arms over his chest. “Because you wouldn’t leave me alone till I agreed on a date. ...Oh, for-! Don’t start apologizing! I would have done it anyway, eventually. I liked you. We had stuff in common. And the more we talked, I started to realize I trusted you. That was new.”
“Then why didn’t you tell me?” Klavier kept his voice soft, nothing like an accusation.
“Did you actually want to know?” He had a point there. “Do I want to know about your shenanigans with everyone you’ve met? Hell no!”
“So the past is the past?”
“No, the past is why I can never run for political office, even if I wanted to. Ugh.”
“I hate to break it to you, Herr Forehead, but I’m pretty sure your involvement with me already makes you thoroughly disreputable.”
“Do I want to know what the tabloids are saying?”
Klavier made a face. “Nein, you probably do not.”
“Ugh,” Apollo said, again. “Why do I bother with people at all?”
“Because your life would be boring without us.”
Apollo’s eyes drilled into him, looking right through every layer of Klavier’s defenses. Right into his heart. “And that’s why I’m not going anywhere,” he said.
Klavier didn’t realize he had lost his balance, sinking to the floor, like a rug-borne snow angel.
“You’re shaking,” Apollo said, dropping down next to him.
“I’m an idiot,” Klavier managed, through the thickness in his throat.
Apollo’s arm slid around his waist. “Good. I hear idiocy’s all the rage this year. I’d hate to think we didn’t match.”
***
“He says he’s outgrown you,” Klavier told his brother, a month later, the words deliberately cruel. Two could play at that game.
“Has he, now?” Kristoph took a sip of his tea, his face placid as a mirror.
“Something about you killing two people. It’s a bit of a turnoff, for someone sane.”
Kristoph laughed. “Would you call him sane, really? Or yourself, for that matter?”
“Compared to you, who isn’t?”
“Fascinating. Are you suggesting I should try for an insanity plea. I haven’t explored that route, yet, seeing as how it might be detrimental to my career, but a man must learn to be flexible, in trying times.”
Klavier could tell where the line was about to go, and Kristoph did not disappoint in his predictability. “I don’t imagine I’ll ever grow as flexible as Apollo was, though. Tell me, does he still cling to you, with every limb in his body, when he’s about to come?”
Klavier’s hand clenched around his cup’s delicate china handle. “I’ve got enough class to not kiss and tell. Unlike you.” There was a subtle bloom of rage, in Kristoph’s eyes. Klavier had found a weak point. Prod at his breeding, his desire for respectability, and the ice starts to crack.
“Tell you what, though,” Klavier continued. “If you think of something that drives him insane with pleasure, feel free to tell me.” His voice dropped an octave, deadly serious now. “I would do anything for him.” Including destroy you utterly. The threat hung in the air, unvoiced but not unheard.
“I’m proud of you, Klavier,” Kristoph said. “Every day, you become more and more like me.”
“Bullshit,” Klavier said, breaking up the genteel facade they had cultivated, up till this moment. “I’m still capable of caring about someone other than myself.”
“So noble!” Kristoph clapped his hands. Once, twice. “The white knight gallantly forgives his wayward a lover, for his past indiscretions.”
“There’s nothing to forgive,” Klavier said. “I don’t own him. And neither do you. That drives you insane, doesn’t it? Knowing he’s out of your reach. Knowing that we both are.”
He put down his cup, taking his jacket from where it was draped, over the back of his chair, and putting it on, slow, showy and deliberate. “You’re irrelevant,” he said, and that was the final blow, the worst thing you could do to someone like Kristoph.
“I’ll see you next month,” he said, and left the man alone in his cell.
Title: The Past Is Another Land
Characters: Klavier Gavin, Kristoph Gavin, Apollo Justice
Pairings: Klavier/Apollo, Kristoph/Apollo
Rating: M/R
Warnings: Some explicit sexual language, though no onscreen sex.
Summary: Kristoph's not above using his past relationship with Apollo, in order to mess with Klavier. (Written for the Phoenix Wright Kink Meme.)
"I love Apollo with Klavier, but I also have a sick and twisted love of him with Kristoph.
I think it would be nice to have a story where Klavier and Apollo are in steady relationship, then one day Klavier goes to visit his brother in prison and Kristoph choses to try to hurt Klavier emotionally by using his relationship with Apollo.
I want to see Kristoph taunting Klavier about what he used to do to Apollo, and what Apollo would let him do/do for him. It can be almost anything you want, I don't like blood, piss or scat so please do not include them, and whether or not Kristoph is telling the truth about what he used to do is up to you, you can have it confirmed by a horrified and humiliated Apollo, denied, left up to the imagination, I don't care. All I want is a serious attempt by Kristoph to fuck up his brother's happiness and really stab him in the feels."
“I’ve had him right here, once, did you know that?” Kristoph’s voice hissed in his ear. “Right here, on this very bed, where the guard could have seen it. He kept his eyes squeezed shut the entire time, like his own blindness would guarantee his privacy.” Kristoph chuckled. “He can be such a child, sometimes.”
Klavier was only seconds away from decking him, from laying him flat and paying whatever fines he had to, in the aftermath. If they cared so much about keeping this particular prisoner safe, they’d put him behind glass, where he belonged.
“You have to be careful with him,” Kristoph continued. “He bruises so easily, and he never complains, so you don’t notice, till after the fact, when you realize it’s been a week and he’s still got your marks on his wrists and hips. It’s gratifying, really.”
How did he walk into this trap? He’d been so careful to keep Apollo out of the conversation. Certainly, he hadn’t mentioned their budding relationship. It was still too new, too easily broken, and Kristoph had lost the right to know anything personal about either of them anyway.
No, Kristoph himself had been the one to bring up Apollo, and that’s where Klavier had made his first mistake. Never show that you care. That’s the flank you’re opening up to his attacks. He should have just shrugged, changed the subject, but not too quickly. Made a joke that didn’t sound too forced. ‘Leave Apollo out of this’ was practically an invitation. All the intelligence the enemy would need to begin their assault.
“And you know what the best part is?” Kristoph’s hand tightened in the collar of his shirt. “It’s how insatiable and eager to please he is. You can have him on his knees with a flick of your eyes, his mouth around your cock, and moaning like a whore all the way down.
“I do hope you’re keeping him satisfied. I’ve had no choice but to remit him to your care, after all, Little Brother.”
Klavier did punch him, then, fist going nearly numb with the force of it. Kristoph simply dabbed the blood from his mouth with a handkerchief, and smiled, like a perfect angel.
***
Apollo was home, by the time he returned. The Wright Anything Agency (technically Wright, Justice and Cykes now, but everyone still called it that) was between cases, and Klavier’s apartment (their apartment) was a calmer place to do paperwork than Wright’s cluttered office. He was chewing on the back of his pen. Klavier had offered a million times to get him a new laptop, after the old one broke down, but the silly little man seemed to like working his wrists into an early death by carpal tunnel.
Klavier found himself trapped in the doorway, caught between wanting to cling to the younger man and wanting to flee. Wanting to spill every last detail of his visit before the stern confessional of Apollo’s brown eyes; wanting to lock it all up inside his chest, and never speak of it again.
There were no villains here, save perhaps Kristoph himself, but somehow, he still felt like the transgressor, knowing things he should never have learned.
Apollo looked up at him, while he was still making up his mind. “You look like someone pissed in your Cheerios, flash-froze it, and dropped the resulting brick on your head.”
Klavier kicked off his boots, made his way over to the couch and collapsed on it. The leather upholstery squeaked against his pants. “Ugh. That’s a metaphor I could have done without.”
“Bad case?”
“Bad relatives.”
“It’s that time of the month, right.” Klavier had been nothing if not a dutiful brother. The second Wednesday of every month was reserved for visiting Kristoph. He had yet to miss one, no matter how many times he claimed he never wanted to see the man again.
“I didn’t know. About you and him.” A clumsy way of putting it, but now it was all out in the open, Klavier supposed.
Apollo’s pen dropped to the floor with a click, as he turned the color of overboiled spinach. “You know, I should have figured he’d kiss and tell.” He was trying to keep it light, but his shaky voice gave him away.
“The man’s worse for one’s privacy than the NSA,” Klavier joked, right back at him, and Apollo gave him a strained laugh, in return.
‘I’m not mad,’ the banter signalled. It had always been one of their personal, unspoken codes.
Klavier stole a sip of congealing coffee from Apollo’s mug, before asking the most important question. “Did you want it?”
If Kristoph had forced him, or even used his influence as Apollo’s employer to ensure Apollo’s compliance, then this was no longer a matter of sex. If that’s how it happened, he’d deal with it as the felony it was. He’d ram the case down Kristoph’s throat or die trying, pending only Apollo’s permission, no matter how hard it might be, getting rape charges to stick. Kristoph had managed to avoid the death penalty, so far, but it wouldn’t take much to tip the balance.
But Apollo’s nod came, before Klavier even finished his sentence. He was looking away, but Klavier could tell it was out of embarrassment, not because he was lying.
“It was… It was good. You know, everyone’s got those stupid fantasies, where someone walks into your life, cool as hell, and they want you. No bullshit, no stumbling, and you know they won’t take no for an answer, and that’s actually kind of hot.” He shook his head. “Or maybe that’s just me.”
It wasn’t just him. Klavier knew confidence was sexy. Had banked on it for countless one-night stands. With Apollo, though, he never felt as cool as he’d have liked. Oh, sure, he was above begging or whining, and pretending he wasn’t one of the most attractive men in the United States was just fishing for compliments, but with Apollo, Klavier knew how little any of that mattered. Apollo could do better than him, because Apollo deserved the best there was.
He’d never been so scared of losing someone. Countless moves, from the US, to Germany and back, killed any possibility of a serious relationship in his teens. He’d never been good at long distance. The one-night stands? Those were one-night stands. You couldn’t lose them. You never had them to begin with. Daryan had been different, of course. They’d screw, they’d make music, and sometimes they’d fight, sure. But they always knew they’d cool down and come back, eventually, because that’s what best friends did. Until that time they both turned away and didn’t come back anymore.
“It was supposed to stay just a fantasy,” Apollo said. “Until it didn’t. And the next thing you know, the office door is locked and I’ve got my pants around my ankles. He was very polite, afterward, and I promised it wasn’t a big deal. So it just. Kept happening. The work still got done, and I still learned a lot about law, so I thought it wasn’t getting in the way of our, um, professional relationship.”
“‘Professional relationship, huh? You’re the one who sounds cool as a cucumber, here.”
Apollo cringed. “As if. I had no fucking clue what I was doing, and I knew - I knew - the other shoe was going to drop, any day now, but no one had paid attention to me like that, before. ...Wow, that sounds pathetic.”
“And then, the shoe dropped.”
Apollo snorted. “And then the shoe turned out to be made of cement is more like.”
Klavier scrubbed a hand through his hair. “He said… He said it happened at least once, after he was arrested.”
Apollo looked away again. “It was after Mr. Wright’s trial. I- I wanted to know if he was okay. I wanted to know why, or whether I’d made some kind of mistake. And then, I wound up apologizing, and he was so understanding about it. There were tells everywhere, but I didn’t want to see any of them. For one night, I just wanted to believe he didn’t do it. Evidence be damned. Funny, huh? Exactly the opposite of what he taught me, but he sure made use of it, when it was convenient for him.”
“You- you cared for him, didn’t you?” Klavier forced himself to say the words out loud. They weren’t the right words, exactly, but they would have to do.
“Of course I did!” Apollo looked offended. “You think I’d have let him fuck me if I didn’t care? Maybe it’s what playboys like you do, but I’m not-” He stopped, mid-sentence. “That wasn’t fair. Sorry.”
He had to go there, didn’t he? “Right. We were talking about how much I sleep around. Remind me again, cause I forgot.” Nothing wrong with casual sex, except for the part where everyone would throw it back in his face, sooner or later.
Apollo sighed, exasperated. “Look. I said I was sorry.”
Klavier forced his jaw to relax. “It’s fine.”
But Apollo wasn’t ready to let it go. “If you’re pissed at me, just say so, and stop pretending you’re not.”
“I’m not pretending!” Slamming his fist into the back of the couch was much less painful than doing the same to a wall, but a good deal less satisfying. He took a deep breath, let it out. “Did you even know I existed, back then?”
Apollo shook his head. “I think he had a photo of you in the office somewhere, but you looked like six in it, and we hadn’t actually met.”
“So there you have it. We’re both adults, Apollo. We’ve both slept with other people in the past. If I got mad at you for indulging in something I, myself made a habit of…” That came out sounding vaguely wrong… “Not Kristoph specifically, I mean, but in general. Your past relationships are not something I have a say in.”
“But you don’t like it.” Apollo kept his voice flat.
“Of course I don’t like it,” Klavier conceded. “I’d like to have kept a few more degrees of separation between myself and my brother.” I hate the thought of that psychopath’s hands all over you. I hate the thought of him leeching into your mind, making you think you’re less than you are.
“So if it was someone else, you wouldn’t care?”
“I believe the word you’re looking for is ‘duh,’ Herr Forehead.” He could see Apollo relax minutely, at the sound of the familiar nickname.
“Not even if I said I’d loved them?”
Had he loved Kristoph? The thought of it made Klavier’s gut churn with bile and sympathy, in equal measures. “If they were that important to you, I might demand to meet them. Assuming you were still in touch, of course.”
“But it’s not someone else,” Apollo said, resolute.
“Nein, it’s not.” Do you want him, still? Klavier wanted to ask, too afraid of the answer to say the words out loud.
“Just me, stewing in my own bad decisions.”
“It takes two to tango,” Klavier reminded him, and Apollo shrugged.
“I’d like to believe it was a pretty good decision on his part, actually. I’m not that bad a lay, am I?”
Klavier crossed the room, pulling him into a hug, and nearly getting an elbow in the ribs for his troubles. Apollo never reacted well to surprises. “Nein. You are fantastisch.”
Apollo flashed him a sickly approximation of a cocky grin. “Yeah, and don’t you forget it.”
“Like there’s any chance of that!”
“So, what now?” The question echoed between them.
I love you, Klavier wanted to say, but the words were too dangerous for this time and place. Not when they also meant, please, please don’t leave me. Nothing but emotional blackmail, and Apollo didn’t need any of that.
If Apollo was going to leave, then he’d leave, and Klavier would just have to deal with it. Impromptu confessions would only delay it for a while, making them both more miserable, in the long run.
Apollo’s hand folded around his wrist, around the wooden bracelet he never took off. “What aren’t you saying?” he asked.
“What do we do now?” Klavier repeated. Don’t be a coward. You’ve never been one before. “If he got out of prison, what would you-?”
Apollo started, at the thought. “Get a restraining order probably. And also go, what the fuck, legal system, letting him out? I doubt he’s thrilled with me, after Vera’s trial, and hell, there’s only so much denial a guy can be in, before he’s doing laps in a croc infested Middle Eastern river. He’s a murderer, I was an idiot, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, can we please move the fuck on?”
“I’m not him,” Klavier said, only to be interrupted with a “Yeah? No shit!”
“You know why I went out with you, at first?” Apollo crossed his arms over his chest. “Because you wouldn’t leave me alone till I agreed on a date. ...Oh, for-! Don’t start apologizing! I would have done it anyway, eventually. I liked you. We had stuff in common. And the more we talked, I started to realize I trusted you. That was new.”
“Then why didn’t you tell me?” Klavier kept his voice soft, nothing like an accusation.
“Did you actually want to know?” He had a point there. “Do I want to know about your shenanigans with everyone you’ve met? Hell no!”
“So the past is the past?”
“No, the past is why I can never run for political office, even if I wanted to. Ugh.”
“I hate to break it to you, Herr Forehead, but I’m pretty sure your involvement with me already makes you thoroughly disreputable.”
“Do I want to know what the tabloids are saying?”
Klavier made a face. “Nein, you probably do not.”
“Ugh,” Apollo said, again. “Why do I bother with people at all?”
“Because your life would be boring without us.”
Apollo’s eyes drilled into him, looking right through every layer of Klavier’s defenses. Right into his heart. “And that’s why I’m not going anywhere,” he said.
Klavier didn’t realize he had lost his balance, sinking to the floor, like a rug-borne snow angel.
“You’re shaking,” Apollo said, dropping down next to him.
“I’m an idiot,” Klavier managed, through the thickness in his throat.
Apollo’s arm slid around his waist. “Good. I hear idiocy’s all the rage this year. I’d hate to think we didn’t match.”
***
“He says he’s outgrown you,” Klavier told his brother, a month later, the words deliberately cruel. Two could play at that game.
“Has he, now?” Kristoph took a sip of his tea, his face placid as a mirror.
“Something about you killing two people. It’s a bit of a turnoff, for someone sane.”
Kristoph laughed. “Would you call him sane, really? Or yourself, for that matter?”
“Compared to you, who isn’t?”
“Fascinating. Are you suggesting I should try for an insanity plea. I haven’t explored that route, yet, seeing as how it might be detrimental to my career, but a man must learn to be flexible, in trying times.”
Klavier could tell where the line was about to go, and Kristoph did not disappoint in his predictability. “I don’t imagine I’ll ever grow as flexible as Apollo was, though. Tell me, does he still cling to you, with every limb in his body, when he’s about to come?”
Klavier’s hand clenched around his cup’s delicate china handle. “I’ve got enough class to not kiss and tell. Unlike you.” There was a subtle bloom of rage, in Kristoph’s eyes. Klavier had found a weak point. Prod at his breeding, his desire for respectability, and the ice starts to crack.
“Tell you what, though,” Klavier continued. “If you think of something that drives him insane with pleasure, feel free to tell me.” His voice dropped an octave, deadly serious now. “I would do anything for him.” Including destroy you utterly. The threat hung in the air, unvoiced but not unheard.
“I’m proud of you, Klavier,” Kristoph said. “Every day, you become more and more like me.”
“Bullshit,” Klavier said, breaking up the genteel facade they had cultivated, up till this moment. “I’m still capable of caring about someone other than myself.”
“So noble!” Kristoph clapped his hands. Once, twice. “The white knight gallantly forgives his wayward a lover, for his past indiscretions.”
“There’s nothing to forgive,” Klavier said. “I don’t own him. And neither do you. That drives you insane, doesn’t it? Knowing he’s out of your reach. Knowing that we both are.”
He put down his cup, taking his jacket from where it was draped, over the back of his chair, and putting it on, slow, showy and deliberate. “You’re irrelevant,” he said, and that was the final blow, the worst thing you could do to someone like Kristoph.
“I’ll see you next month,” he said, and left the man alone in his cell.
