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The guy was there again, and Apollo couldn’t help but stare.
There was a secretary sitting at the desk right in front of him, watching with amused eyes, but Apollo could barely see her. He had been halfway through asking her for her help when he had seen him, out of the corner of his eye, and then he hadn’t been capable of a single word other than ‘uh’. That was what pretty people did to him- rendered him completely incapable of basic speech.
Stupid sexy stranger, a still competent part of his brain muttered, but everything else had long since turned to mush.
The man had been walking across the hallway in strides, long legs making long steps, and he looked like he had important places to be with a satchel at his hip and the professional but slightly glazed over expression Apollo saw Mr Wright wear all the time. He had thought at first his boss just had problems listening to him, but he saw it on Mr Edgeworth’s face, and that man was the sharpest Apollo had ever known.
The man didn’t look professional the first time Apollo had seen him a month ago. His sightings were few and far between but always at the prosecutor’s office, and Apollo had done some digging and found out he was some man called Gavin, one of the prosecutors. He hadn’t believed it at first because with his purple jacket and gaudy jewellery he looked more like a rock star than a lawyer- but he kept seeing him around and hard at work, and Apollo was forced to admit he had judged him based on appearance alone.
But god, how did anyone concentrate in court when he was there? The man was stunning.
The man had halted down the far end of the hall as Apollo watched, now talking to another of the secretaries. Gavin was smiling brightly, toying with his fringe, and whatever he said made the other man laugh. They were grinning at each other like they knew each other well, pleased and happy, and Apollo felt an absurd amount of jealousy- I wish that were me. He had considered approaching and introducing himself, but it simply wasn’t done. A defence attorney had no reason to approach a prosecutor and interrupt their work just to say hello- and it would have only weirded Gavin out.
He resigned himself to watching from afar, and that was all he had been doing for weeks.
The secretary said something that made Gavin throw back his head and laugh, delighted, and the sound drew no attention. It must have been a regular occurance. Apollo watched as Gavin shook his head and said one last thing to the secretary, far too low to hear. He clapped the man on the shoulder, no doubt still snickering, and he stepped away. They said their goodbyes, and Gavin kept moving on- towards where Apollo stood.
Apollo didn’t have the time to look away. He was well aware that he was staring like an idiot, probably slack jawed, but the shame wasn’t quite enough to make him tear his eyes away. Unfortunately then something terrible happened. Pulling his strap up, Gavin lifted his head- and his eyes met Apollo’s head on.
Oh, god.
Apollo immediately dropped his gaze. The secretary snorted with laughter, and he shot her the fiercest look he could muster. It wasn’t particularly impressive. She didn’t look the slightest bit cowed. He cleared his throat, trying to think of any reason to leave- but he couldn’t resist one last peek at Gavin, even if his face was boiling with humiliation.
Gavin was still looking at him, and his eyes were shinning with mirth. He had stopped, halfway into one of the many doors down the hall, but he was leaning back and peering at Apollo. As soon as he saw that Apollo was looking again, he lightened up. A grin plastered all over his face. With a moment of wriggling, he had his folders carefully balanced on a hip. He lifted his hand in a casual wave.
Tentatively, Apollo smiled. He waved back, and Gavin only beamed. He even dared to wink. The man actually winked at him, and Apollo felt the bottom of his stomach drop out.
He didn’t have time to respond. Gavin disappeared into the room without a word, and Apollo jerked like he had been shaken awake from a dream. He blinked and shook his head, as of trying to chase the lingering daydream away, and found the secretary in front of him still waiting patiently, eyes on him.
“Uh,” Was apparently all he was still capable of saying, and he wanted the ground to open up below him and swallow him whole. He couldn’t even remember what he had come for.
“I don’t blame you,” She told him, lips twisted in a smirk. “We all have the same problem- he’s very pretty. Now, State vs Fontaine or State vs Pratchett?”
-
A week later, and Apollo found himself in the offices once more, dwarfed by the people around him and weighed down with a thick box of folders. Bring these to Edgeworth, Wright had told him, and shoved the box into his arms. Take that friend of yours, Clay, with you. There’s a lot of boxes.
There had indeed been a lot of boxes. Apollo had complained bitterly, but this was only marginally better the toilet cleaning duty, so he had dragged Clay along with their arms full. He whined the whole way there, and Apollo slightly regretted it. The bus journey had not been fun.
People stared as they entered at the men barly visible over the cardboard. Apollo could feel it splitting. They no doubt recognised him as Wright’s boy- god, how he hated that, especially the little flare of pride he couldn’t control for being associated with Phoenix Wright of all men- and the boy’s little friend, but none of them bothered to stop them. Apollo was glad. The boxes were as heavy as hell. What the hell are these even for, anyway?
The elevators were at the end of a long hall, and the harried looking receptionist waved them past, uncaring. Clay followed Apollo closely and looked at everything with awe. He had never seen the offices before.
They had to run for the elevator, struggling to peer over the boxes, and someone inside was kind enough to hold it for them. Apollo entered first, huffing with exertion and taking the corner, and Clay followed quickly at his heels.
“Thanks,” Apollo said, looking to their hero, and then he jumped, almost dropping the box. It slipped free from his hands for a split second, and he desperately tried to control it again, using his knee to push it up, and he swore loudly.
Then there was a hand, pushing the side of his box up, and helping him regain control. He thought for a moment that it was Clay, but the hand was much too tan for his pasty friend, and when Apollo settled himself and looked up, Gavin was grinning down at him.
“Okay?” He asked, and his voice was delightfully rich, inflicted with some European accent, and Apollo could feel his heart melting. He felt like a teenager again, and he grit his teeth and did his best to harden his heart against the feeling. He had to share an elevator with the man he had been drooling over. Brilliant.
“I,” He began, and his voice wobbled. His cleared his throat, and he could hear Clay snickering at his side. “Uh, thank you.”
The hand didn’t withdraw immediately. Gavin waited until he was sure Apollo had a firm grip again, and then he drew away, backing into the other corner of the elevator. If Apollo had one complaint about the offices, fancy as they were, it was that they had tiny elevators. He supposed they had no right to complain, though- the WAA had barely any space at all.
There was one other person taking up room, one of the Paynes. Apollo still had yet to figure out which was which. He was staring at him, eyes invisible against his ridiculous glasses with his lower lip curled. Clearly, he hadn’t approved of all the swearing.
“Sorry,” Apollo murmured, out of politeness, and Payne only sniffed, turning away. Apollo resisted the urge to flip him off. He stepped away. He balanced his box against the wall, pushing it with his hip, and waited. The doors had shut long ago, but the button to their floor had already been pressed.
They were left in an awkward silence. The only noise was distant music from Gavin’s headphones.
Apollo gazed pointedly at the floor. He wasn’t going to get caught staring again. He cleared his throat forcefully, and hoped Clay didn’t try to make conversation. They only needed the fifth floor, and with any luck Payne would leave soon. The silence stretched on, and eventually the elevator shuddered, and began to rise.
No one said a word, and Apollo was quite happy with that, until Clay had some kind of revelation.
“Oh my god,” Clay suddenly said, quite urgently, and Apollo turned to stare. There was one hell of a sight awaiting him. Clay was standing completely straight, and his eyes were wide, staring directly at Gavin. He was staring at him like his head had staring spinning and spraying pea soup everywhere. In turn, Gavin was gazing back at him, nonplussed. Apollo guessed he was used to it.
“Clay,” He said, scoldingly. He didn’t want a repeat of last week. “Stop staring.”
“But that’s-“
“Clay.” He said, pointedly, and Clay’s lips thinned. He looked back down, determinedly staring into his box, and Apollo swore he could hear Gavin laugh, very quietly. The bastard knew about his effect on men and women. The elevator moved quickly, but not quite quickly enough. It rolled slowly up, finally reaching the fifth floor, and Apollo internal gave thanks to whatever deity bothered to listen.
The doors rolled open, and Payne strolled out, his head held high. Clay wrinkled his nose at him. Apollo stretched out a leg and lightly kicked his ass, pushing him forward, and Clay left the elevator with a grumble. He heard Gavin snort as he followed.
“Sorry,” He said as he passed, and he was grateful when his voice didn’t squeak. “Have a good day.”
Gavin gifted him with a toothy smile, and Apollo almost tripped on his way out of the elevator in his shock. The door shut behind them too quickly to hear his reaction.
He resisted the urge to throw his box at Clay when he burst into hysterical laughter, and vowed to whack him one as soon as they were out of the building.
-
Apollo thought that might have been the last of it. He couldn’t keep having mind numbingly awkward encounters- it wasn’t good for his health. He hoped that maybe, with one last fuck up, it might have been the end and Gavin would forget his face and Apollo could pretend he wasn’t a complete failure.
But no, it kept happening, and Clay was almost always there to witness it.
Sometimes Trucy was too. She liked to follow him to the offices to see ‘Mama’ Edgeworth, and liked to badger the two of them into buying her sweets from the shop not too far from the offices. One of them always caved- usually Clay. Seemingly, it was all she came along for.
Wright seemed to be sending them to the prosecutor’s office a lot for some reason, usually to drop by to see Ema, drop something off for Edgeworth or wrestle another prosecutor into giving up information that was theirs by right, and Apollo found himself in the elevators of the office at least twice a week.
And Gavin was nearly always there.
Three days after what was lovingly dubbed The Box Incident, Trucy manhandled Apollo into the elevator on the second floor, and pressed the button for the fifth floor multiple times, in quick succession. Someone’s eager, Apollo almost said, but then he saw Gavin, standing in the corner. It would be the first time he and Trucy met.
He didn’t notice either of them, at first. He was speaking quickly and quietly into his mobile- purple, apparently just like everything he owned. He spoke quietly enough for Apollo to not be able to hear what he was saying, and Apollo found himself disappointed. He didn’t actively want to eavesdrop, but he found himself wondering if his voice was as pretty as his face. He was glad Gavin didn’t see him getting dragged around by his tiny sister, though.
He eventually looked up when Trucy accidentally brushed past him. Apollo took hold of her wrist and pulled her along, out of his way, and Gavin’s eyes met his again. He beamed.
“Ah, Guten Tag,” He greeted, with that vibrant smile turned directly on him, and for a moment, Apollo didn’t register a single word- and then he realised. Good day, his mind informed him.
“Oh, uh, hi,” He said, stupidly, and then promptly shook his head. “I mean, Guten Tag.”
Gavin’s eyes sparkled, and he lowered his head again, resuming his old conversation. Apollo quickly caught on, realising he was speaking German. He spoke quickly. Apollo barely knew five words in German, and he couldn’t help but feel disappointed. He barely knew how to say hello. He had never seen Gavin before he suddenly appeared- he must have been a temporary worker, visiting the American offices or something.
If that wasn’t a kick in the teeth, he didn’t know what was.
There was a furious yanking at his sleeve. Apollo looked down.
“Polly!” Trucy hissed, staring at Gavin. “Do you know that guy?”
“Uh, no,” He said honestly. “But I kind of want to. He’s cute. And you know how much I love cute guys.”
He expected Trucy to laugh. That was their joke, pointing out pretty people Apollo could dream of having a whirlwind romance with. Nothing ever came of it, and usually he didn’t want it to. This time was different. Apollo wanting something from this, and Trucy didn’t smile. She blinked up at him.
“Uh, Apollo,” Clay sounded strange, like he was trying to stifle laughter. He was standing in the far corner, and he wore a familiar shit eating grin. It was almost constantly on his face. “Maybe….”
He didn’t say anything, and he was looking over at Gavin, his lips twisted. Apollo tilted his head expectantly. “Maybe...?” He prompted.
“Never mind,” He said, airy, and grinned at the ceiling. Apollo frowned at him. He looked too pleased, suspiciously so, but he wasn’t going to start an interrogation in an elevator. He supposed it could wait.
“You think he’s cute?” Trucy asked, and hey, if Gavin didn’t know English, Apollo was as well be honest. He wasn’t going to perv on the guy or anything- he wasn’t that asshole. Payne had a habit of checking out Edgeworth’s assistant, and it made him feel physically ill. He couldn’t even imagine how she felt. He made a mental note to bring it up with the man himself.
“Ridiculously,” He said, and she finally smiled. It was a little nastier than all the others, but he thought nothing of it. Clay snorted from his spot, and Apollo ignored him. It was for the best. “I mean, if he spoke English I still wouldn’t ask him out. I would barely be able to hold polite conversation with him. But Christ, he’s cute.”
Trucy crossed her arms over her chest, and her eyes lingered on Gavin. Apollo could still hear him talking on the phone, and it sounded like he was smiling. “It’s true,” She remarked, and then the elevator was halting at their usual floor. Clay stepped out first, Trucy skipping after him, and Apollo took one last moment before following. He looked to Gavin.
“Guten Tag,” He said again, a touch shyly, and Gavin was grinning oddly wide.
“Guten Tag,” Gavin said in return, and he winked again. This time, Apollo didn’t trip over his own feet on his exit, and he counted his lucky stars.
“What are you giggling at?” He eventually asked Clay and Trucy, who had interlinked their arms and looking at each other like they were keeping a nasty secret, and they only turned away and scurried ahead.
-
It went on for a very long month.
With the amount of times Wright sent him out of the office, it was like he was trying to test Apollo’s patience before he quit. Apollo got that feeling a lot. It was Wright’s job to hold down the fort, Apollo’s job to do all the jobs everyone else hated, and Athena’s job to stop anyone from snapping and killing them all. That was how things worked. It was a decent enough process.
Apollo didn’t mind it, he supposed. He hated running in the Paynes, but it was worth it on the days he saw Gavin. Clay and Trucy tended to mock him mercilessly afterwards, sometimes even when they were still in the elevator with Gavin right beside him, but they could be ignored. It was hard sometimes, the two keeping on and on about it until even Wright looked faintly irritated- Terran, why are you still here? You don’t even work here- but Apollo had learnt to deal with the more annoying aspects of working at the WAA.
It was just a matter of pulling through, but it fell apart fairly quickly after that.
One day when they walked in, the place was packed. It wasn’t exactly wall to wall with people, but there were far more people than there usually where, and all of them looked stressed. People were snapping at each other, storming about, and Trucy pressed against Apollo’s side, eying those who came too close. “What’s going on, a prosecutor convention or something?”
I don’t think so, Apollo almost said, but Clay got there first. “A load of old, stuffy guys in suits. My idea of heaven.”
“Ssssh,” Apollo said, hyper aware that they were surrounded by them. Anyone could overhear. He took Trucy’s hand in his and pulled her along, hoping Clay wasn’t lost in the crowd. He would have to be a heroic sacrifice so they could forge ahead. “Come on. We better do the job quickly.”
The job was to pick up an autopsy report, which had been for the morning’s case. The body required more testing, and Wright sent them there to either get the updated copy through coercion, or sit in. That’s usually why Apollo brought Clay along- to irritate them into giving Apollo what he wanted. Hopefully, with the amount of work the offices were no doubt straining under, it wouldn’t take five minutes. However, it meant Ema was probably in an appalling mood.
They made it to the elevator and summoned it, and while they waited, a crowd gathered around them. Not all of them would fit into the elevator, and Apollo tugged his companions close. He wasn’t losing either of them to the white collar zombies.
Then, there was a soft tapping on his shoulder. “Liebling,” A familiar voice suddenly said from behind them, and it almost made Apollo jump. He turned to find Gavin behind him, tugging headphones free from his ears.
Apollo smiled, pleased. “Hello,” He said, hoping Gavin knew that at least. He probably heard it enough. He budged up, allowing Gavin to stand beside him, and Trucy was snickering at his side again. He barely noticed it. “Hi.”
He was smiling, and up close, he was almost radiant. His skin was flawless. Apollo was green with jealousy. “Hi.”
The elevator came quickly, and the four of them bustled on first. They drew to the back, out of convenience, and Apollo made sure his friends stood close- and Gavin even put a hand on Apollo’s shoulder and drew him closer, pulling him out of the path of a very inconsiderate man with a large briefcase than was strictly necessary.
Apollo sucked in a breath, and Trucy must have heard it- she looked about ready to cry holding in laughter. He shot her the evilest look he could muster. Don’t say a damn word, even if he won’t understand.
She didn’t. It took a moment for the elevator to fill up. She was silent throughout the entire thing, but her lips were pressed tightly together, and Clay was twitching. Gavin didn’t say a word, and he didn’t even look down at any of them. He was warm and he smelt like laundry detergent and expensive cologne, the kind Apollo probably couldn’t afford with an entire year’s wage. It was driving Apollo up the wall.
“He’s still cute. Goddamnit,” He said, offhandedly to Trucy, and her lips twitched.
The elevator doors closed, and all he could do was hope that someone had pressed the button for their floor. It jolted as it began to rise, and Apollo almost lost his footing against Klavier’s chest and Christ, wasn’t his life a dollar store romance novel? He grit his teeth and pretended it didn’t happen, even when Gavin helped steady him, gripping his shoulder firmly. Thankfully, Clay and Trucy didn’t seem to notice. He probably would never hear the end of it.
The elevator lost a few people on the second floor and mostly emptied out on the third, and by the time it ended up opening on the fifth, it was easy enough to squeeze past those who remained. Apollo turned for parting words with Gavin, only to find him following. “You’re coming out too?”
Gavin looked at him for a moment, and tilted his head. “Ja?” He asked, questioningly, and Apollo felt like slapping himself full on in the face. No English. Okay.
“Never mind,” He said, and the elevator doors were closing behind them. The hallway of the fifth floor was not half as busy as the foyer downstairs, but everyone still had a harried air around them, and Apollo thought about Snackoos, bouncing off his forehead. He winced, pre-emptively. “Let’s try some of the offices,” He told Trucy, and she nodded.
He had half a mind to ask Gavin about his own destination, but it appeared he was happy enough to follow. They stepped down the hallway, toeing out of the paths of irritated looking secretaries, and inspecting each door for a sign of Ema. Things were not promising- until she stormed out of one of the last few doors, strands of hair falling loose of her usual bun. She almost ran them straight over, leaving devastation in her wake- but she spotted Trucy at the last minute, and screeched to a halt.
“You,” She said, almost accusingly. “You have more work for me.”
Apollo resisted the urge to curl up into the fetal position and cry. “No, no, we’re just here for the autopsy report. The updated one. From today. Please tell me it’s done so we can leave.”
She narrowed her eyes at him, as if trying to gauge his honesty- but then she settled down again. “It’s done,” She told him. “Let me get it, so you get out of my hair. I’ve got enough to worry about.” Her eyes shifted from him to behind him, where Gavin stood. “And you, where have you been? You’ve got work to do, and Prosecutor Edgeworth wants a word. And I need your report on the Stan murders. Did you get the info from Payne?”
There was a beat of silence. “Ja,” Gavin said, and for a blissful moment, Apollo didn’t put two and two together. He didn’t notice the quick blur of English that Gavin understood perfectly.
Ema arched her eyebrows. “Cat got your tongue, Gavin? Usually I can’t shut you up.”
Completely ignorant, Apollo looked between the two. He looked just as surprised as Gavin looked fearful. “You know German?”
She looked at him, strangely. “No?”
That caught him off guard. “Oh, I….”
It sunk in, comically slow. It was like he was in a cartoon, lights slowly flicking on behind his oversized eyes, a computer screen loading slowly all the way to one hundred. But when it hit, it was like a sledgehammer to the back of the knee.
He looked to Gavin, and he looked deeply afraid.
“Oh,” Clay said from beside him. “I think he’s figured it out. Only took a month.”
Apollo ignored him, but he filed that little piece of information away for later. He raised his hand, lifting a finger, and gestured it firmly towards Gavin. “You don’t know English, right?”
It was a redundant question, and Apollo knew the answer, but he had to hear it. He watched Gavin try to school his expression into something calm, masklike. “Was?”
Apollo planted his hands very firmly on his hips, tensed his jaw, and levelled him with a firm stare. He played along, for just a moment, with what little German he knew. “Sprechen Sie Englisch?”
Gavin’s response was immediate. The mask was falling apart already- Gavin’s eyes were a lot more expressive than he wanted to show. “Nein.”
His bracelet tensed. It fit tightly against his wrist, squeezing, and that was the last thing Apollo wanted to feel even if he expected it. There was a long moment of silence, and Apollo crossed his arms across his chest. He didn’t take his eyes off Gavin once, even as the other man avoided his gaze.
“You know English.”
“…I might,” Gavin said, haltingly, and Apollo could have died right there and then.
He put his hands firmly over his face, and dragged them down slowly. He shook his head carefully, and then faster. His head may have been in danger of flying off and smashing through the window. “No,” He said, and his voice was strangled. His body felt strange, right in the pit of his stomach, like it didn’t know how to react. He could feel every gaze on him. “No. Nope. I’m done. I’m out of here.”
“Polly,” Trucy said, carefully. Her tone was disapproving. “Polly, come on.”
“Nope. I’m quitting. My job. My life. I’m quitting. I’m done.” He threw his hands up in the air, and pivoted where he stood, heading back down the hallway. The elevator and freedom awaited him. Hopefully he would be able to get on alone so he could maybe bash his head against the wall. “You guys can get the report. I’m outta here.”
“Apollo,” Gavin called after him, and Apollo could hear his frown. He spun back around, and judging by the expression on each of their faces, his own expression was hysterical.
“Oh, you know my name? Did you find that out by reading a case file? In English?”
The entire group winced at his volume, and plenty of people turned to stare. Gavin looked, for the first time, uncomfortable at all the attention. Ema only looked between all of them, bewildered. “Is anyone going to explain what the hell is happening?”
“It’s a bit of a long story,” Clay said, delicately, and jumped when Apollo rounded on him.
“Clay, don’t think you’re off the hook- and you, Trucy, you both betrayed me-” Apollo cut himself off with a noise of frustration. “A month, you two, a full month of me making an absolute ass of myself-“
Gavin stepped forward and lifted his hands, and he moved slowly, like he was approaching a dangerous animal. “I should have been honest,” He said, and his accent was obvious, but he spoke clearly. It was the accent of someone who had spent most of their life surrounded by English speakers. “I was just having a little fun, and I shouldn’t have. I’m sorry.”
“Damn right,” He grit out, and he was still walking, turning back again. He was going back to the office and staying away from the prosecution offices for at least a fortnight- Wright could go and drop shit off to his boyfriend if it was that necessary- and not speaking to anyone for at least a week. He walked away, hearing Ema distant confused sounds, and then there were quick footsteps coming up from behind, and a hand touching his shoulder. The person pulled him back, stopping him, and Apollo shot them a fierce look. Gavin looked appropriately cowed.
“I’m sorry, it’s my fault,” He said, his expression sober. “Your friend there- he was going to tell you the first time, in the elevator,” He reached up to run his fingers through his fringe, a little sheepish looking. “But I sent him a look to stop him, and he did. I thought it was funny. And cute. And I think you’re cute. Please don’t be mad.”
Apollo glowered at him, but he slowed to a stop. Workers were still staring. “You should have told me.”
“Ja, I should have,” He admitted freely. “I don’t know exactly what I was thinking. Could we perhaps start again? I know I can’t make another first impression, but perhaps…” He trailed off, clearly not knowing how to end his sentence. They were alike in that way- the embarrassment was still burning hot, a ball of flame, but faced with a man who seemed to earnest, the urge to hide under a rock or perhaps rip his head off lessened.
“Start again?” Apollo repeated, a touch indignant. “You think I want to talk to you after making a complete idiot out of myself?”
“You didn’t,” Gavin said, soothingly, and he spoke so quietly no one else could hear. People started losing interest, looking away. Trucy leant forward to eavesdrop. Clay pulled her back. “I made myself look an asshole, but you didn’t looked stupid. If you would rather not talk, I’ll allow you the dignity of that choice.”
“…You actually want to talk to me after I perved on you?” Apollo said, reluctantly, and his mind was almost completely blank. Life had done multiple three-sixties, and he barely knew what was he was facing.
“Please, I’ve experienced far worse than that,” Gavin said, straightening a little, and shooting him a grin. He stuck out a hand. “Hallo. I’m Klavier Gavin. I’m a prosecutor here and I can speak English. I think you’re cute.”
Apollo just looked at him for a long moment. Klavier didn’t falter, keeping his hand still, and eventually, Apollo could do nothing but accept it. The man’s hand was warm, and his handshake was firm. Apollo made a point of not smiling back. “I’m Apollo Justice. I’m a defence attorney and I think you’re an asshole.”
Klavier’s lips twitched. “Fair enough.” He didn’t let go of Apollo’s hand immediately, even after their hands stopped shaking. His fingers remained curled around his hand, and Klavier was almost studying him, looking him up and down with no subtlety. “I think that-“
Something dark and small flew through the air, thudding hard on Gavin’s head. Klavier’s expression flickered from faintly pleased to surprised, and finally to irate. The object fell quietly to the floor, and Apollo knew the shape intimately.
“Snackoos,” Apollo said, sympathetically, and Klavier pulled a face. He stomped on it firmly, twisting his feet, and it was nothing but powder. Ema made a distant offended noise, but said nothing. Apollo had no idea where she had even pulled them from. “I think you’re going to be suffering from a lot of those.”
Klavier sighed, overdramatically. “What a cruel world we live in.” He shook his head, and the small smile was back, and he finally released Apollo’s hand. It was about time- Apollo’s hand was getting unbearably sweaty. He resisted the urge to wipe it on his pants. He watched as Klavier put his hands on his hips, and leant forward. “So, you think I’m cute-“
Apollo groaned. He should have known. “You’re not going to let it go, are you.”
“Actually, I wanted to make it up to you,” Klavier told him, and Apollo suddenly understood how Athena felt- he could hear the vague thrum in his voice, something tiny that hid something much larger. The man was nervous. Apollo was faced with someone he had been calling cute, face to face, and he was anxious. It was the most ridiculous thing Apollo had ever heard. “With drinks. Or dinner. Whichever you prefer.”
Trucy got his attention by waving her arms madly just behind Klavier, and she nodded eagerly, giving him the thumbs up. Clay looked just as stunned as Apollo felt. Apollo looked from them to Klavier, eyes wide, and when he tried to speak, only “uhh” emerged.
Klavier laughed. “I don’t want to force you into an answer. Here,” He said, and then he was holding out a hand while another dug into his pockets. Nonplussed, Apollo gave him his hand, and yelped when Klavier suddenly pulled him close. With a flourish, Klavier yanked out a pen- and then Apollo was squirming under the tickling of a pen nib against his skin, writing a phone number along his forearm. “There,” He said, and released him. Apollo’s arm itched. “You can think on it, and text me your answer.”
“Damn son,” Clay said from behind Klavier, looking deeply impressed. “Polly’s got accidental game.”
Apollo still was capable of saying anything of sustenance. “Uhh,” He repeated again, uselessly, and things weren’t improved when Klavier flashed him a bright grin. He jerked a thumb over his shoulder.
“You should get what you came for, before Fraulein Detective Snackoo’s the hell out of the both of us,” He said. “It would be such a sad end for two promising young men, ja?”
That finally jerked Apollo to life. He had work to do- he had almost completely forgotten. “Ja- I mean yeah, right, of course.” He scratched at the skin of his arm, over the numbers, before running a hand over his hair. “Of course, I’ll probably see you around.” He tried to smile, and no doubt it appeared too toothy, nowhere near genuine. It certainly felt that way.
Klavier looked deeply amused, and he stepped to one side, allowing Apollo to pass. “I have to go. Duty calls and all that.” He watched closely as Apollo stepped past, but made no move to intercept him. “Good luck with the Fraulein.”
Ema huffed at him, and for one dreadful moment Apollo thought the two of them were going to suffer from her wrath- but with a wink, Klavier was gone, heading back down the hallway and disappearing down a corner without another look. Ema looked about ready to punish Apollo for Klavier’s sake, but she had mercy. “I can’t believe that just happened. Apollo, I thought you had better taste than that. I can’t believe this.”
“Neither can I,” Clay said, sounding a mix of delighted and stunned. “Holy shit. Please tell me you’re calling him. You just got a number from a celebrity.”
Apollo couldn’t help but snort dismissively. Klavier may have had the looks of a movie star, but he wasn’t exactly a famous prosecutor let alone a celebrity prosecutor- Apollo considered telling Clay that, but he supposed it was a battle he would lose. It could wait another day. “Ema, please,” Apollo prompted, without giving Clay an answer. Clay whined, but let it go.
That was, until the broke free of the building with the report they came for.
-
“I’m not calling him,” Apollo said, and it was mostly a lie. Or perhaps it was the truth- Apollo couldn’t tell. He still lived in a clouded daze, where nothing quite seemed real. The tickling sensation that lingered on his arm even hours later was the only thing that may have been keeping him down on planet Earth.
His own reflection gazed back at him, and it almost looked judgemental. Apollo pulled a face at himself, childishly, and it only mimicked it. The tap was running at the sink, and he clutched a bar of soap- he was more than ready to wash the number free from his skin. And that would be it. He certainly hadn’t accidentally memorized the digits from rereading them, again and again.
The hot water was making the mirror fog up, and he steeled himself. I’m not calling him, he said in a mantra, I’m not. I don’t care how cute he is.
“I’m not calling him,” He told himself, firmly, and that was that.
(okay fine when and where, Klavier eventually read almost three days later, and he smiled.)