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“Blackouts suck,” Apollo said.
“Ja,” Klavier nodded as he finger-combed the curls out of his hair, “Even worse in an archaic courthouse that isn’t up to code.”
“How are none of the exit doors fail-safe?” Apollo gestured to the silhouettes of courtroom 2’s doors, illuminated by the light of Klavier’s phone and moonbeams from a tiny window at the end of the hall.
Klavier tsk’d. “They did not even check if there was anyone in the building before they closed.”
“We should write a really strongly worded letter,” Apollo said as he slumped into the wall.
“Something about the dark age of the law being over but the security system is stuck in the dark ages,” Klavier pitched.
“Yeah.”
“I will complain loudly during our next staff meeting. If I break out because I did not have make-up wipes I will sue someone,” Klavier asserted with a snap of his fingers.
Apollo raised an eyebrow. “Who? The guys who built the building are pretty dead, man.”
Klavier scoffed with a wave of his hand, “Irrelevant. Their estates. The city. Herr Edgeworth. Hell, maybe even Frau von Karma to stir the pot even more.”
“All of them? Including the lady with the whip?” Apollo's eyebrow raised further.
“Ja. Hell hath no fury like my sensitive skin.”
He cringed at his colleague’s boldness. “I think you’re gonna get fired and also die.”
Klavier’s entire body moved with his eyeroll. He waved his hand again, weaker this time. “Something about dying as I lived, another thing about protecting the beauty of the world-“
“You’re spitballing your inspirational speech to the only one who’s going to hear it?” Apollo glared, indignant that he wasn’t worth a coherent thought.
Klavier’s hand dropped mid-gesture. “I am so tired.”
“Me too,” Apollo admitted, propping his head against the brick wall. They'd been in the dark for at least an hour now, and the last Apollo saw a clock it was around one in the morning.
Klavier chuckled and slouched to the side, his head landing on Apollo’s shoulder. Apollo shifted in his seat on the linoleum floor, but didn’t shrug him off. Instead, he twisted his bracelet and watched how the grooves of the gold caught the low light in the hallway.
“I always liked your bangle,” Klavier admitted, “It somehow makes your whole outfit work.”
“Oh, thanks. It was a gift from my mom.” Apollo didn’t add on the ‘I think’, or the number of times in his childhood he’d been tempted to pawn it for cash.
“She has good taste. It complements your skin tone and the design is fetching.”
Apollo smiled and ran a finger along the etchings. “Well, it’s no Gavinners logo but it’s suitable enough for me.”
“The G pokes me a lot, actually. I love her, but she is very spiky,” Klavier lamented as he held out the offending letter, the links of his necklace clinking.
Apollo considered this and shrugged his unencumbered shoulder. “My bracelet does this thing where it makes me hyper-focus and pulls on my eyes if someone’s hiding something. Lots of psychedelic colors, too.”
“What?”
He realized most people would not believe that. Whatever. “Yeah. You know how I notice people’s tells?”
“And that’s how?”
“Yeah.”
Klavier hummed. “Wow. I did not realize it was magic.”
“I don’t know if it’s magic exactly but… yeah. If I use it too much my eyes hurt and I can get a migraine,” Apollo half-smiled, surprised that Klavier was taking him seriously, “I even keep medication in my bag during trials just in case.”
“Ah. Objectively worse than a pointy piece of metal, then,” Klavier said with a solemn nod.
“I’m sure that gets annoying, though,” Apollo frowned and poked at Klavier’s pendant. Not sharp enough to cut someone, but enough to jab.
Klavier laughed as Apollo pulled his finger away with a pout. “Ja, extremely.”
Their conversation wandered after that, the shadows and late hour giving them a boldness that didn’t surface with the status quo. They complained about work, their bosses, how Klavier dealt with Payne, and Apollo hoping for a raise sometime this century. During all of that they must have agreed on food at some point, because they ended up at the vending machines near courtroom 3.
Apollo sized up the automats, the bright colors advertising expensive items now dark and stripped of appeal. “They look a lot scarier at night.”
“The sandwiches do look more stale, I’ll give you that, Forehead,” Klavier snickered.
“Shut up,” Apollo chuckled, not because that was particularly funny, but because it hit that point in the night where everything was. He cleared his throat and tapped on the glass. “How are we gonna get in if there's no power?”
They stared at the machines, surprised neither thought of that.
“We- Er. Well,” Klavier started.
Swiss rolls and orange juice stared back at them.
He sighed, “Okay. I did not want it to ever come to this, but I see we have no other choice.”
“What the fuck are you talking about, Klavier?” He asked as Klavier shoved his phone/lightsource into Apollo’s hands.
Klavier shuffled through his pockets and produced a small, circular object. He pursed his lips as he inserted it into the machine and leaned in ear-first. When he started jiggling the key in the slot, Apollo realized Prosecutor Gavin was breaking into public property.
“Oh my god, since when do you have a lock pick?” Apollo marvelled, his voice echoing down the hall.
Klavier winced. “Since I didn’t want to pay for a Köstritzer.”
Apollo gaped. “Do you like, do this often?”
“Nein! I had an intense rebellious phase and it felt bad to throw a memento away,” Klavier scoffed and swung the door open.
“Wow,” Apollo snatched up some jerky as soon as Klavier was out of his way. “I just gave up after my arms stopped fitting.”
“You never seemed like a quitter to me.” Klavier swiped three OJ’s and shook his head. “Shame.”
Apollo’s competitive streak bristled. “Okay, if you’re going to play it that way, then my friend and I used to pull cons for free pretzels at the movie theater.”
Klavier managed to hold himself in for a second before busting out with a peal of laughter. “I see, I'm a small fry compared to mission impossible.”
“Jerk,” Apollo said through a smirk.
“Nein, nein, I’m sure your heists were indeed very daring. Full of drama and intrigue,” Klavier wheezed, “As a DDA I should be taking you in but-” He broke down into another fit of giggles.
Apollo shoulder checked him with a snort. “Right. Upholder of the law and such.”
“It is my burden to bear, the world that has been rested on my shoulders,” Klavier lamented with a wide grin as he caught his balance.
“I know you’re not delirious enough to forget the entire judicial system here.”
Klavier leaned in with a conspiratorial whisper, “Oh, but I am close.”
A few foodstuffs heavier, they carried their loot back to courtroom two with a debate about the licity of being a teenager. This time they opted for the benches instead of the floor, their flashlight laying between them as they shared their spoils.
“This is weird,” Apollo concluded as he twisted the lid of an OJ bottle open.
“No way,” Klavier deadpanned through a bite of jerky, “I do this once a week at least.”
“Jeez, you get so crabby,” Apollo grumbled as he alternated between tightening and loosening the cap. “I don’t think I’ve ever had to stay up with someone without work to do. It feels like this is what a sleepover is supposed to be like.”
Klavier’s chewing slowed and he narrowed his eyes at a piece of darkness in the distance. “Is it?”
“I don’t know. I never had one really. I got freaked out in different environments as a kid.” Apollo took a big swig of lukewarm OJ and wished it was a better distraction.
Klavier tilted his head back until it hit the wall behind them with a thunk. “I didn’t either. Wasn't allowed.”
“Well, I guess this is our first official sleep-over.”
“On government property. Ja, I like the sound of that.” Klavier laughed. “If only we had a movie. Or power.”
“Eh, I think we kind of skipped that part and went straight to laying in the dark and telling each other all of our deepest, darkest secrets.”
“For never having a sleepover you seem to know a lot about them.”
“Trucy tells me about hers sometimes.”
Klavier hummed and nodded like it was finally coming together. Apollo snickered as he tugged his legs onto the bench and hugged them to his chest.
“Did you know,” Klavier said, sounding surprised that he even brought it up, “that I was born in Germany?”
Apollo tucked his chin between his knees and closed his eyes, surrounding himself with only the sound of Klavier’s voice. “No. Thought you were from Cleveland, actually. ...Of course I thought you were born in Germany.”
“Mm.” Klavier’s boots shuffled on the floor. It was amazing that he hadn’t taken them off yet, since they’d stripped themselves of uncomfortable clothing as soon as it was clear that this was going to take a while. “I didn’t grow up there, though. That was Kristoph’s privilege.”
“I wasn’t born in the US either if that helps.”
“Really?”
Apollo smirked because that’s what everyone said. Something something assimilation. “Yeah. Khura'in. Most people don’t even know it exists.”
“I’ve heard of it. Beautiful, from what I know.”
“...I don’t think I’m ready to talk about it yet.”
“Understandable,” Klavier conceded. He adjusted again and Apollo wondered if it was the seat or the topic making him uncomfortable. Or maybe it was the ghosts of the courthouse, hovering over them. Klavier started again, “My mother taught German to kids at the local American base. She’d just had me when some typical military-type swept her off her feet, and by the time he was reassigned to the US we had to go with him.”
Apollo turned to Klavier, whose eyes were far off and fingers were spinning rings or picking at loose threads. “Really?”
Klavier snorted. “Yeah. He was a huge piece of shit. Part of me thinks he’s why Kristoph is the way he is. So… stiff, and manipulative, and playing his cards so close to his chest because anything else would’ve gotten him discplined. We couldn’t even speak German in the house. Such a tight, violent leash that man kept us all on.”
Apollo couldn’t help watching how Klavier’s neck contracted as he swallowed, and he felt bad that he couldn’t offer anything other than ogling him. Apollo didn’t know what Klavier wanted from him - but maybe that was the point. Maybe this was just a secret meant to be shared under the cover of night in the presence of a sympathetic party. Sleep-over stuff.
“I thought it was normal, and then when I got to study in Germany… Ach, Apollo, it was like having part of myself revealed to me. It awakened a flame that couldn’t be put out. The same flame that overtakes me when I think about truth, justice, how many lives my music has touched. It’s strange to think about that before time and how passionless it was.” Klavier stopped staring into the void and met Apollo’s gaze, his stony expression melting into something affectionate.
“That explains the gratuitous German, I guess.” Apollo tried. Humor always worked, right?
“Ja. It is mine, and none can take it away from me.” Klavier chuckled. “I apologize. The dark always resurfaces old memories.”
“No, I get it. I’m really sorry you had to deal with that, Klavier. I… had a few families in the system that were similar. I’m lucky I didn’t stay there long, but it wasn’t fun.” Apollo rubbed his bracelet and realized that yes, it was very weird to think about the before times. Klavier placed a hesitant hand on his shoulder and squeezed. Apollo closed his eyes again. After a moment the pressure was gone, and while Apollo felt he could breathe again he felt so much colder, too.
“Maybe I took the invitation to share my deepest, darkest secrets too far, eh?” The smile, though evident in Klavier’s voice, still sounded strained.
“No, I…” Apollo remembered how they ended up in this mess—both of them searching the court’s library for some book or case study, Apollo never looking at Klavier because he felt so distant in so many ways - beauty standards, fame, musical talent, wit. They were meant to be on opposite sides of a courtroom, not trying to figure out a labyrinthian library together with nothing in Apollo’s body but caffeine and justifiable rage for his boss. Apollo pushed back his hair and looked at Klavier. “I’m just surprised how much we have in common.”
Klavier inclined his head, the casual gesture trying to hide how he searched Apollo’s face. “What do you mean? We’ve always had a lot in common.”
Apollo frowned. “Like?”
“Like loud and somewhat questionable fashion choices, our flair for the dramatic, our careers in law, our search for truth no matter the consequences, and, well…” Klavier placed an elbow on one of his knees, the light giving him a seraphic glow with this new angle. Stray strands of hair had fallen in his face and his smudged eyeliner highlighted how bright his eyes were. Klavier’s smile was wry as he waved his hand. “I have no better way to put it. Kristoph. We put my brother, your boss, in jail, even though it was… well. I know no better way to bond with anyone.”
Apollo stared at him wide-eyed.
Klavier’s eyebrows drew together and his frown grew. “Are you okay?”
Apollo swallowed. “I’m realizing I’m stupid, Klavier.”
“Ach, what does that make the rest of the population?” Klavier’s frown twitched into a teasing smirk, his eyes still roving Apollo’s face with intense concern.
“Probably a lot smarter than me right now.”
“Why? I disagree, so you know. Should get that out of the way.”
“Because I want to do something stupid.”
Klavier tilted his head more, a curtain of blonde falling with it. He pursed his lips. “Based on my very limited experience in sleepovers and the fact that we already robbed a vending machine, that is expected in this situation.”
Apollo hesitated before swooping in to peck Klavier on the lips. He pulled away too quick to savor it, but honestly, Apollo was all for half-assing stupid ideas.
“Apollo.”
Apollo let out a breath, and on that note, how did people breathe? Was there a step-by-step guide somewhere? Maybe a video.
“Apollo, please open your eyes. And breathe.”
He hadn’t realized he’d closed them. He opened his eyes to see a beaming Klavier. Oh, he thought it was a joke! Haha, very funny Apollo! Oh, thank Christ. “I’m not sure I can.”
“You just did. See? Inhale, exhale, repeat.”
“Thanks.”
“You’re overthinking and overlooking another thing we might have in common, Forehead.” Klavier leaned in closer, and Apollo choked on the knowledge of how to breathe. Overthinking. Overlooking. Yeah, that sounded like him. Klavier softened, his gaze losing the sharp edges it usually hid behind. “Thank you for the kiss.”
“I. Well. Yeah.” Apollo’s hands tried to get a firm grasp of his knees, instead clinging to the fabric of his pants as his mind blanked. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay. If this is your dramatic, sit-com way of admitting you enjoy my company then it was appropriately chaste and ‘aw’-inducing.” Klavier looked down, tilting his head this way and that as he weighed options. “It’s also possible that you did it for no reason other than being bored. Which is also understandable. But, if that’s the case don’t make it a habit. Especially not in court. Imagine the penalties.”
That brought Apollo back. “I’d rather not. But, uh. It was the first one. Sorry. Again.”
Klavier’s eyes snapped up to meet his own. “Then I guess it is my turn to be dramatic.”
Any question Apollo might have had was lost as soon as cool and calloused fingers brushed against his warm cheek. Klavier tapped their foreheads together and gave him a sweet, chaste kiss. Apollo froze. This couldn’t be as simple as it seemed, right? Nothing was this simple, cases and life and love were always complicated. Klavier drew back enough for his breath to ghost across Apollo’s lips, and oh, simple or not, he wanted it. Klavier started to whisper, but the first syllable morphed into a pleased hum as Apollo tugged him in for another kiss. With each motion they gave and got until Apollo's back was flat against the bench and his lap was full of German rockstar.
When they parted long enough to catch more than a lungful of air, Apollo’s hands still tangled in Klavier’s hair and Klavier’s, in turn, halfway up his shirt, Apollo asked, “Do most sleepovers end this way?”
“Does Fraulein Magician usually mention this part?”
“Don’t bring her up right now. And. Uh. No. I sure hope this isn’t the norm.”
“I do not think that between the two of us anything is normal.”
“You’re probably right.” Apollo exhaled and let his head thunk against the wood of the bench, relishing in how cold the air around them felt. “Hey. I know I sort of... Initiated this, but what exactly is this?”
“Making out in our place of work after dark while we both taste of beef jerky and orange juice.” Klavier’s face was neutral, but the thumb on Apollo's cheek was brushing his skin like it was precious. “As you said, Apollo, you initiated it. What do you think it is?”
“Well. uh.” Apollo swallowed and ran a careful hand through Klavier’s now tangled hair. “Do you maybe want to go out sometime for coffee? Friday, at uh… when do you get out of work?”
“I usually leave around seven.”
“What the hell?”
“I can make it a reasonable five-thirty, though.”
“Right. Um. Coffee on Friday at five-thirty or six?” Apollo gave Klavier the best grin he could. It really felt like a grimace.
Klavier planted a kiss on his forehead. “Ja. And if we happen to have court together… Let’s push it until it’s a victory coffee. I can pick you up if you are at your Agency.”
“Right! Right. That sounds really good. Yeah. For now do you…” Apollo cleared his throat.
Klavier arched an eyebrow. “Want to keep making out?”
“Yeah.”
“Bitte.”
—
“Polly.”
Apollo swatted at what was unmistakably Trucy’s prop wand and grumbled.
“No, don’t wake them up, this is so funny.”
“Daddy!”
“Look at them Truce, you have to admit this is great.”
Mr. Wright and Trucy. Hard, uncomfortable surface. Very warm, heavy blanket. Did he fall asleep in the agency again? Oh, fuck this, he was going into a coma before he woke up.
“Polly please wake up before Daddy uses this compromising position against you and Prosecutor Gavin!” She poked him in the cheek this time, hard. He whined and swatted in the direction of their voices.
Wait.
Prosecutor Gavin?
Compromising position.
Apollo made a valiant attempt to bolt up, but the man on top of him was very heavy and groaning about beauty sleep. He settled for propping himself up with his elbows. Wide-eyed, he turned to Trucy and Mr. Wright. “I can explain.”
“Let me guess,” Phoenix said, one of those lazy, evil smiles he had back when he wore the same hoodie for weeks on end making an appearance, “You two were in the court library and the power went off. The front and back doors were locked because this place is ancient, so you two decided to tough it out until the cavalry arrived. Then the Brokeback Mountain itch hit you.”
“Yes, but not-!”
“Stop talking so loudly!” Klavier slurred with the most American accent he'd ever had.
“We didn’t do anything,” he hissed as Klavier attempted to smother himself in Apollo’s chest.
Both Trucy and Mr. Wright looked to his half-open buttondown and the red marks it revealed.
“Prosecutor Gavin’s not even wearing a shirt,” Trucy pointed out, ogling him from the corner of her eye.
Phoenix’s grin widened. “And you got some makeup on your face.”
“It was PG-13.”
“Oh, who got the f-word?”
“Apollo,” said Klavier, still muffled by Apollo’s bosom. “Please tell me that we are the only people in this building right now.”
“Yeah, Edgeworth’s outside with a spare key. I figured that since there was a blackout and Apollo never came back he’d still be in here. Probably didn’t even think to shove himself through those Apollo-sized windows. You were a surprise, though, Gavin.”
Klavier sat up and squinted at Wright for a long time. “Please do not patronize me this early in the morning, Herr Wright.”
“It’s ten.”
“Ja, ja, egal.”
After a hasty re-dressing and clean-up operation, Phoenix and Trucy escorted them out. The Wrights executed a flawless tag-team interrogation on Klavier, who, in turn, answered each question with grace and the glint of a challenge in his eye. Apollo watched the rather cute scene with a smirk and fear in his gut.
As the sun hit their faces and Mr. Edgeworth locked the doors with a grumble about ‘last time’, Klavier fell into step with him. “So, Herr Justice.”
“Yeah?” Apollo asked, feeling inadequate and embarrassed now that they were in the light of day.
Klavier twined their fingers together and crouched down to whisper, “We’re still on for Friday, ja?”
Apollo gave a single exhale of a laugh, a grin that almost hurt taking over his face. “Yeah.”
“Wunderbar.” He swooped down and stole a peck. “That will have to tide me over until next time, then, Sonnenblume. I will count the days.”
Apollo forced himself to not hide his face in his hands. He settled for a smile. “Yeah, me too. Text me.”
Klavier gave a wink before sauntering off towards the parking garage.
“How dreamy,” Phoenix deadpanned from beside him.
Apollo jumped and swore. “Jesus Christ, stop doing that.”
“Nah.”
“How did you know that was what happened, anyway?” Apollo asked.
“Hm? Oh.” Phoenix glanced towards the prosecutor arguing with his daughter over proper diets and over-priced vending machine food, “Call it intuition.”
Apollo pretended not to notice his bracelet on that one.