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Klavier didn’t remember a great deal.
He remembered a burning, a kind of tingling. It spread all over his body- in his throat and his chest, residing in his stomach. It was in his eyelids and his brain. It was the only thing he remembered clearly.
Everything else was vague shapes, nonsense words. The world was a blurry tango around him, going too fast for his sluggish eyes to follow. He tried to cast his mind back, to remember, but it was far too difficult. He could recall some things- people, faint words, and that burning sensation, and he knew everything was different.
It was very dark where Klavier was now, and it took him a moment to realise it was because his eyes were closed. He tried his best to open them, but it was a chore. They felt heavy-lidded, and he couldn’t see the light as hard as he tried. He was bone tired. He was positive of that. He gave up quickly, and stayed in the darkness.
Christ, he was exhausted.
There were feelings, long gone and yet still with him. He was warm now, perhaps even comfortable with something soft beneath him but he had once been somewhere cold. No matter how hard he tried to avoid it, he had been cold. But he had been hot, like there was fire raging underneath his skin. It didn’t make sense, but he had no energy to think it through.
Klavier moved on instead. He ignored the heat as best he could. He thought instead of his surroundings, and remembered black and white and brown, dead grass under snow and chalk on tarmac. He remembered vivid red- blood. That stood out against everything else. He had gone to the scene of a murder, that he knew but feeling deathly ill, and he couldn’t comprehend why.
He thought about the dead grass, the pale brown and yellow-
Brown eyes. Beautiful. Sometimes full of rage, sometimes contempt, but never with Klavier. They were soft whenever they looked at him, not like they used to be. They changed over time, the way they looked at him, and Klavier wished he was capable of looking into them.
Apollo had been there.
Apollo. That was why he had gone. It was reckless of him, but Klavier was nothing but reckless with his own health. Klavier had been suffering under piles of work and sickness and days with barely any sleep and yet he had still gone as soon as Apollo asked. It was stupid of him, but Klavier had always been an idiot when deeply in love.
There hadn’t been time to rest, but there had been time to smile for him. He would have done anything to be useful to Apollo, to be by his side, but something had happened while he was there and goddamnit, why couldn’t he open his eyes? He had somehow stood at a crime scene only a second ago, and now he was flat on his back, feeling just as hellish. Had he fallen? There was something comfortable beneath him. He must have moved. But he was warm when he once was cold, and it didn’t make the slightest bit of sense.
He wondered where Apollo was now. Klavier faintly remembered looking into Apollo’s face, then closing his eyes to blink- and that was the last of it. He was here now. Now he was aware of himself again, and it was all very different. He took in a breath and his chest burnt, and he had to open his eyes. He had to.
It took him a long time, and the frustration built up inside him with no way to express- and then he finally managed it. He opened his eyes to find his friend gone, replaced by a long stretch of blinding white.
He had to close his eyes again immediately. It was too harsh for him, and it was like needles stabbing into his skin, scratching his eyelids. He groaned, faintly, and his throat was completely shredded. The sound was wrecked and as it came out, it burnt. It didn’t take him long to realise everything hurt, from his eyes to his toes.
He opened his eyes just a crack, trying to adjust. He took in breaths, and tried to focus on what was around him. He could hear beeping, regular and as annoying as hell, and when he took in a breath through his nose he could smell chemicals. It was familiar, and he knew where he was immediately- the hospital.
But how had he gotten there?
He supposed the gossip rags would tell him tomorrow. He curled his hands, and his nails scratched against something firm but pliable. A mattress. He was lying in bed and it was the harsh overhead hospital lights that were burning him. He swore internally, and opened his eyes very slowly.
The ceiling greeted him. It was white tile and spotless. He tried to turn his head and his neck protested and his brain felt a thousand times heavier than usual, but he persevered. He let out a low breath, ignoring the pain of his throat and the fact like his chest felt like someone was piling stone after stone on him, waiting for his ribs to give out. He could feel the sheets covering his legs, horrifically itchy.
He turned his head to the left as best as he could when it felt like it was full of concrete, and the room around him was empty. There were no nurses or doctors, no one leaning over him, and even though there was a chair pulled up to his bed it was empty, and there was no sign anyone had ever sat in it. There was soft light coming in through the window, casting long shadows, and Klavier knew it was the evening.
He looked out to his right. There were several empty beds, neatly made and there was a door at the far end of the room. If he listened intensely, powering through the pain and the headache that pulsed between his temples he could hear no footsteps out in the hallway. There wasn’t a soul around.
It figured. There weren’t many people in Klavier’s life who would be around to visit.
He settled back against the mattress, and gazed up at the ceiling. Thankfully while his memories were teasing him, flittering around just beyond his reach he could still see clearly. It hurt him to stay awake though, and everything was too harsh on his senses. He wanted to sleep again, wait for the pain to leave him.
More importantly, he wanted someone by his side to smooth his hair back from his forehead and tell him what had happened and that everything was going to be alright. He had burnt for it for years.
There was an IV in his hand, pumping him full of god only knew what. If it was pain relief, he needed more of it. His limbs felt heavy and his head thick, and breathing was difficult. The confusion didn’t help- the blank in his memory stretched far, and trying to recall only hurt him more.
And he was tired, so tired. Keeping his eyes open was just as difficult, approaching impossible. He made a noise of complaint to no one in particular and shifted, barely moving, and tried to stay awake. He wanted someone to come in and talk to him, to take care of him, to tell him what had happened.
His eyes slipped closed too suddenly, and then he was gone.
-
He woke up some unidentifiable amount of time later, and there was pressure on his left hand.
Klavier could open his eyes first try this time, and he did, blinking blearily. He was never the most graceful in the mornings, and he let out a soft moan. His head still ached incessantly, but it hurt much less. His throat was nowhere near as raw. The sleep had done him good.
He still felt groggy, however, and it took him another moment to remember where he was. He shifted were he lay, feeling the mattress sink beneath him and he thought about everything he knew, his mind much clearer. He saw the ceiling and heard the beeping, and someone’s hand rest over his. It was warm and light, and he could feel the fingertips resting over his knuckles.
Klavier turned his head, and found the chair from before occupied. Apollo Justice was slumped there, leaning over his hospital bed with his arms crossed against the rails, his head resting atop them. One hand was curled into a fist, while another lay over Klavier’s. It must not have been comfortable, but the man hadn’t moved an itch.
“Apollo,” Klavier tried to say after a moment, but his voice was weak, a faint whisper. His throat was dry like he had swallowed sand. He swallowed back the frustration and tried to slick his throat, but it wasn’t enough. He needed water.
The alert for the nurses was not far. It was to the right of his head, within his reach. He considered reaching up for it- now he was aware of it, his mouth felt like a desert- but he couldn’t look away from Apollo, slumbering so silently. Klavier couldn’t even hear him breathe.
Klavier’s hand was palm down against the bed. He turned it slowly and his muscles complained, pathetically weak, but then their palms were pressing together, and Apollo still hadn’t even twitched. He didn’t make a noise.
Klavier smiled at the sight of him. The touch let alone Apollo’s presence was a great comfort, and Klavier’ heart felt lighter, knowing someone was there for him. Klavier could see Apollo’s waistcoat draped over the back of his chair and an almost finished bottle of water abandoned on the bed- he had been there for a while.
He wanted to run his hand over Apollo’s hair. He restrained himself. Instead, he settled his head back and breathed slowly, in and out. He still had no answers, but with Apollo by his side he knew he was safe. If a nurse entered before Apollo woke, he could request answers, but Klavier knew from the rings under his eyes- marginally lighter than Klavier’s own- the man had very little time to sleep. Klavier wasn’t waking him up for anything.
He look to the window, and resisted the urge to curl his hand around Apollo’s and squeeze. He could not see the city, but there was light, and he could see the snow drifting down from the sky. It had been snowing almost nonstop for a week. The streets were piled with it, and almost everyday someone had come into the offices grumbling and patting snow off their backsides. Klavier had been one of them twice.
Despite the snow outside, he was hot. He felt like he was sweating, but occasionally he would shiver, the sudden movements completely out of his control. He wondered what was wrong with him- he hadn’t experienced anything like it before, even when he would regularly fall ill as a child.
He lay there, not exactly in comfort but in contentment. It was the most peaceful he had felt in a long time, even if he did feel dreadful, and he didn’t want the moment to pass.
It took Apollo twenty minutes to wake. It was probably more sleep than he had managed in a long time.
In the silence, he stirred. In the stillness, Klavier noticed immediately. He turned his head to watch and listened as Apollo snuffled, shifting where he sat slumped. Klavier found that Apollo was not a graceful morning person either- he had found himself wondering that late at night, how Apollo would star in something outside of his fantasies. Perhaps the alarm clock would ring and Apollo would groan against Klavier’s chest and pat his hand over the bedside table until it shut up, determined to spend a few moments longer in bed, or maybe Apollo would wake before it and coax Klavier up and out of bed with kisses and other sweet promises. Klavier had found his answer. Apollo whined like a child shaken awake for school and pressed his face further into his arms, as if trying to pretend the world wasn’t the way it was.
Klavier watched him with a smile. He enjoyed the moment, waiting for Apollo to finally look up with brown eyes that were probably dazed or blurry. He looked forward to seeing them, but apparently Apollo had no plans of looking up. He supposed it was typical of him- Klavier had to guide him along until he blundered across the truth.
Klavier squeezed his hand as firmly as he could. “Herr Forehead,” He greeted, and he hoped his grin wasn’t as weak as it felt. “I see Sleeping Beauty is finally awake.”
His words were slurred. He had not spoken in a long while, and he was still parched, but it was still loud enough to be heard. Apollo jerked, twitching like a moving like a marionette, and looked up. His eyes were very wide and just as lovely as Klavier remembered.
“Klavier,” He said, and his voice was breathy. Apollo just stared at his face for a long moment as if he couldn’t believe it, like he had witnessed a miracle and Klavier laughed at him as well as he could. It sounded like hell, and it wracked his chest with pains. “Christ, I could say the same for you! You’ve been out for a long time.”
“Nonsense, I was just resting my eyes.” Talking hurt, but he powered through. It was an unhealthy croak. He licked his dry lips. “What happened?”
He was aware of his hand, still trapped under Apollo’s. The man himself seemed unaware as he dragged his chair closer. It scraped loudly against the tile, and Klavier winced. “You fainted,” Apollo told him. His brows were furrowed deeply, and the frown lines stood out against his face. Klavier had half a mind to tell him to stop- he was only twenty four and having wrinkles so young wouldn’t do at all. “We were talking at a crime scene and you looked like death, and then you just collapsed. You just looked all pale and fell to the floor.” Apollo let out a long breath. “You scared the hell out of Trucy. You scared the hell out of me.”
He didn’t remember a single thing. He didn’t remember the fall at all. Klavier smiled. “I bet Fraulein Detective was happy.”
“Please. She called the ambulance for you.”
That warmed him a little. He felt hot in his hospital gown and the layers of the blanket, even though it couldn’t possibly be that warm in the building- his prior experiences with hospitals was that they were cold unfeeling things. With Apollo leaning so close and his covering, he felt like he was boiling alive- and yet his body was still wracked with occasional tremors. He shivered violently once, shaking hard and Apollo gripped his hand tight.
When he settled, Apollo held Klavier’s hand in both of his. It made his palms unbearably sweaty, but Klavier didn’t care at all. He thought Apollo might have flinched away once he realised Klavier was awake, but he didn’t. He didn’t look like he gave a damn. He even ran a thumb over Klavier’s knuckles, and the imprints of his fingertips left invisible marks that tingled against Klavier’s skin.
“Why did I collapse?” Klavier asked, hoping Apollo would hold him a little longer. His hopes were fulfilled. Apollo didn’t break away once.
“The doctor’s said you had the flu,” Apollo told him, and Klavier supposed it made sense. He had the flu before once, as a child. It was a distant memory, only known to him as a teenager whenever Kristoph made a reference to it that seemed casual. I stroked your hair from your face, I stayed up with you to make sure you were comfortable and clean up your messes. It had seemed to be the playful guilting of an older brother. So simple, so innocent. Now, Klavier knew it as more. He did not recall what the flu was like, but the heat, the inexplicable shivers- now it made sense.
“My bad,” He said, and Apollo’s eyebrows shot up.
“Your bad?” He repeated, indignant, and Klavier offered him a grin he hoped was cheesy. “You’re an idiot. You shouldn’t have come along the time crime scene if you were seriously ill. You shouldn’t have been in your office. I would have understood.”
“You needed me.” Klavier said, dismissively. If Apollo needed him, there was little he wouldn’t do. Klavier didn’t want to think about his boundaries when it came to this man.
“You need your health more,” Apollo said, firmly. His nails scratched lightly at the ridge of Klavier’s knuckles. “I need you well enough to keep me on the right track in court.”
“Ach, you need me?” Klavier tilted his head, looking at him with half lidded eyes. He spoke teasingly. “I didn’t know you cared, Herr Forehead.”
Klavier expected Apollo to drop his hand like it was red hot and to splutter out some excuse. He expected to see cheeks ablaze. The man was shy at the strangest moments- like a mouse whenever Klavier flirted, but a lion in court. He didn’t get either reaction he expected. Instead, Apollo looked at him seriously with dark eyes. “Yeah, I do. To both. Don’t be a gillipollasabout it.”
Oh. He wasn’t sure what to say to that. He cleared his throat- feeling like he was being stabbed- and looked away, uncertain. He could hear other people hurrying around outside, a faint murmur. The sound was distant, shut away. He wondered if he could call a nurse without making it obvious he was trying to run away- he didn’t like it when things got serious between them. He wasn’t facing it, not today, not trapped in the hospital.
“The nurses,” He said, the strain on his voice growing. He lifted his eyes towards the calling station, and Apollo jumped to his feet. The tension wasn’t broken, but the attention was called away.
“I’ll get them,” Apollo said. “You need liquid for your throat too. Your voice is dryer than mine.”
Klavier huffed out a weak laugh. “Funny, for the king of sarcasm. Get me a few cups and a pretty nurse, bitte.”
Apollo glowered down at him, and he pulled both his hands away. One dared to flick Klavier’s nose. “Nothing for misogynists,” He said firmly. “And no water. Ice chips.”
“I never said a woman, Herr Forehead. And I’m not that ruined,” Klavier protested, wrinkling his noise. He turned his head away, and he noticed for the first time how his hair was a horrific mess, spilling all over the pillows. It was faintly greasy, probably ruined by the snowfall, and Klavier was embarrassed Apollo was even looking at him. With his croaky voice that failed him halfway through, abruptly cracking, Klavier felt like a mess. “I can manage to swallow.”
“Well, someone has to be careful. You’re clearly not doing a very good job of it.” Apollo sounded appropriately disapproving, like a parent frowning down at him. Klavier would have laughed again if he could. “I’ll be back in a moment.”
“I won’t be going anywhere,” Klavier reminded him, and Apollo shot him a wry look as he stepped away, glowering at him as he left. Apollo shut the door behind him, very carefully, and Klavier was alone again. The room was quiet- he couldn’t even hear the traffic from outside, the windows tightly shut to keep out the breeze and the snow. The only noise was the beeping of his heart monitor, slow and steady.
Klavier leant his head back and closed his eyes. He was exhausted, despite his sleep. He could barely recall the last time he slept before the fall. He let out a breath, long and shuddering, and his ribs burnt. He hoped perhaps a nurse would have mercy on him and give him pain meds.
He wasn’t left waiting for long. Apollo came back in only a minute later, clutching a cup in each hand. A nurse followed him closely, a tense looking woman with loose brown hair escaping her cap. Apollo immediately returned to his chair, pressing close, and for the first time in a while Klavier felt safe, protected. Klavier smiled up at him, and when the nurse fussed over his folder he turned up to voltage, hoping to blind her.
“Fraulein, Fraulein, give me the news,” He said, crooning vaguely, and she gave him a vaguely sour look even as the corner of his lips curved up. Even Apollo managed a smile. He pressed a cup into the hand he once held, and Klavier brought it to his dry lips carefully. The chips on his tongue were delightfully cold and the melted in moments, and he swallowed them easily. It was a moment of relief, and Klavier downed the second immediately. “What’s the problem with me, Fraulein?” Speaking was much easier, no longer a chore.
“A pretty severe case of the flu,” She said, honestly. “You’ve been here since early yesterday morning and it’s not as bad now-it’s the evening now- but you’re not in the clear yet.” She flipped through his file, lips pressing together. “Exhaustion, dehydration. Not a good mix.”
“Moron,” Apollo muttered to his side, and the nurse continued.
“I’m going to give you some painkillers and I’ll have your friend here keep you hydrated.” She reattached his file to the end of his bed, clipping it stuck, and bustled over to check. “I’ll be giving you pain relief through your IV, and it might make you a little drowsy.”
She fussed around them for a moment longer, and Klavier made a point of not watching. He was never a fan of needles, even if they weren’t going anywhere near his skin. He turned his head to Apollo. “Did you hear that, Herr Forehead? You’re going to have to look after me.”
“As long as you’re not going to be a big whiny baby about it,” Apollo said, and the nurse laughed. Klavier imagined the relief would be slow working, and he looked forward to the burn of his chest finally going away. Eventually, she came back around, and took the empty cups from Apollo’s hands.
“Give him fluids often and make sure he’s comfortable. You can call us whenever you need any help, or let us know when you’re leaving and we’ll assign a nurse to him.”
“I’ll be here all day,” Apollo told her, and Klavier’s chest ached withsomething. The nurse issued some further commands and Apollo only nodded along, looking completely serious, and Klavier knew he was going to be in good hands. He hadn’t thought Apollo would be around for much longer, but apparently he was going to have a fulltime nanny.
He wondered if Apollo was going to take his hand again. Probably not.
The nurse was gone in another minute. Duty called. Apollo reclaimed his seat and leaned back, and he still looked exhausted. He closed his eyes, and didn’t say a word. Klavier wondered how long he had been there, and how much longer he would remain. The chair could not have been comfortable.
“Apollo?” He asked, and the man opened his eyes again. He smiled at him tiredly.
“Yeah?”
“Are you alright?”
Apollo didn’t say anything for a moment. He pursed his lips just enough for Klavier to notice, and sighed, his shoulders slumping on the exhale. He looked very small. “Yeah. I’m fine. I’ve just had one hell of a day.”
Klavier wondered how much sleep Apollo had managed to snatch over the last few days. It didn’t seem like much- Klavier saw him often, but only inside work. Apollo was constantly at the offices of the detention centre, or on the move between both. Klavier couldn’t remember the last time he caught Apollo on his way home. Several times he had considered asking Apollo to get coffee, maybe dinner, whatever Apollo wanted as long as he got a break- but the man looked so tired he didn’t want to pull his away from his bed or his duty. “You should go home and get some sleep.”
Apollo immediately shook his head. “I’m not going. I’m not leaving you here alone, not until other people come and stay with you.”
He didn’t think there were other people coming. There were few people to care. “I’ll be fine, I’m pulling through. And I’m used to being in a hospital alone, Apollo.”
That didn’t help. Apollo’s slight frown deepened, darkened, and he only seemed more determined to stay. “You shouldn’t be. And I know what it’s like. I wouldn’t leave you to this.”
“Apollo,” He said scolding, but Apollo only pulled a face and mimicked him, whining Klavier. It wasn’t a fight the man was going to win. He wondered if anyone had ever won a fight with Apollo, and doubted it. He sighed, and gave up. “Who else would be coming? You need to sleep.”
“Trucy was here. So was Phoenix. I think Edgeworth said something about dropping in, and the Gavinners are on their way from other countries, I think.” Apollo blatantly ignored the last part, even as he rubbed the skin around his eyes. He rest his elbow on the rails and squished his hand into his cheek. “Most are on the East Coast. Jaska said he would be coming over from Finland for a visit in the new few days, but hopefully you’ll be out of here by then.”
It would be nice to see them. Since they had broken up, they found little time to be together and they often weren’t even in the same country together. Klavier missed Jaska’s laughter and Kaidan’s smile. “Even Brandon?”
Apollo paused. “Maybe not Brandon.”
Klavier laughed, a touch bitter. “I thought not.” There was always one. He had not taken the breakup well. But with the others by his side, the wound would not sting. Not that it did literally sting much anymore- the drugs were slow acting, but everything hurt much less. He could breathe easier now. He reached up, testing his sides, and it barely hurt at all. He ran his hand up through his fringe, and his hair felt disgusting. It was a touch greasy, ruined by the snowfall, and it covered his pillow in pale strands. He swore to himself, voice rough. “I must look a mess.”
Apollo shook his head. He was smiling a little, either at Klavier’s irritation or vanity. “You look fine, Gavin. Just like a sleepy little rock star.”
Klavier whined, and it only made Apollo laugh. Bedridden, Klavier couldn’t playfully shove at him like he would have. “You mock me. You’re so cruel.”
The attorney settled back in his chair. He even dared to prop of his legs on the bed, just next to Klavier’s. The man had taken his shoes off, and his socks were worn and holey. He didn’t seem to care or notice. “You can complain to Trucy when she comes over tomorrow.”
“I will,” Klavier said, darkly. “Trust me.”
The evening went by slowly. Apollo stayed by his side the whole time. Nurses came in now and again to check on him, making sure he was in no pain, but Klavier was practically content. Despite his surroundings it was the first moment of peace he had in a long time. He knew his work would be waiting for him afterwards, but there was time to relax, and time to work later. And if Apollo was by his side-
He wasn’t going to think about that. It would lead him even further down a road he was already being dragged down.
Apollo was at his beck and call all evening, and continued on even when it was blatantly obvious Klavier was taking advantage of it- get me ice chips, Herr Forehead, lift the headrest, fluff my pillows, also would you do my paperwork for me when I get out of here? Apollo did all of it without complaint- or rather, without much complaint- and only lightly thumped him with a pillow in a display of affection.
He grew more and more tired, too tired to do any of it himself, and he could tell by the affectionate look in Apollo’s eyes that he wasn’t making much more sense, slurring through barely comprehensible words. At one point, he tried to say the word ‘enthusiastic’ and Apollo snorted and laughed until he was almost sick. Determined to get it right, Klavier repeated it again and again with conviction, and Apollo nearly died.
You’re rude, Herr Forehead, Klavier told him, and Apollo was unstoppable. He was wiping tears away by the time he stopped, and Klavier had to smile despite everything.
But eventually the sun was casting those long shadows again, and Apollo looked at the time on his mobile. His face was immediately regretful, and Klavier’s heart sunk in his chest. It was time for Apollo to go. The time had gone slow, but still too fast for his liking.
“I have to go,” Apollo confirmed. He sounded just as disappointed as Klavier felt. “Visitation hours are over. Well, they have been for the past five minutes.”
Stay a little longer, Klavier wanted to ask. Stay until they kick you out.“Okay,” He said. “Fraulein Magician is coming tomorrow?” He hoped he didn’t sound as pathetic and lonely as he felt. His words still blurred together, and his eyelids were sticking again. He fought for a few more minutes of consciousness.
“Yeah, and Mr Wright and I.” Apollo rose from his seat, slowly. He straightened out his cuffs and collar. “Expect a lot of flowers and cards and magic tricks in an attempt to make you feel better.”
That made Klavier smile. “I look forward to it.” He watched as Apollo shrugged his waistcoat back on, and slowly did it up, fingers fumbling over the buttons. He had brought nothing else with him, not a bag or a jacket, and he still had his badge pinned to his lapel. He must have ridden with him in the ambulance from the crime scene, and stayed until then. He wondered what Apollo had done for his case- it was meant to be today. It seemed too irrelevant to ask.
Apollo paused, and there was silence for a long while. It stretched out far between them, and it suddenly almost seemed awkward. Apollo had his eyes lowered, resting on Klavier’s knees, and the man was completely quiet as he pulled his shoes on.
Eventually, he was ready to leave, and he still hadn’t looked at Klavier. He toyed with his own fingers, sliding down to rub at his bracelet, and he still didn’t say a word. He was breathing very quietly, in between insistent beeps from Klavier’s monitor.
“You scared me, you know.” He said, suddenly. Klavier let out a small breath. “You were talking to me like nothing was wrong- I didn’t know anything was up, I thought you just has a cold- and then you just collapsed. You just hit the floor, and it scared the hell out of me.”
“You said. I’m sorry.” He meant it. He didn’t mean to scare him, even if it felt good to know that Apollo cared to that extent. He didn’t recall any of it but he could only imagine the panic after he hit the ground- and the panic when the news no doubted leaked out to the media. He would have to apologise for it on twitter as soon as the drugs wore off.
Apollo turned his head and looked at him seriously. He planted his hands on his hips. “I need you around, Klavier,” He said, firmly. “Don’t do anything like that ever again, you hear?”
Klavier started. The sudden seriousness had swung around quickly, catching him off guard. “I,” He began, and he had no idea what he could say. He supposed all he could do was promise. “I won’t. I promise.”
Apollo smiled. It still seemed a little anxious. “Good.” He looked to the door. Klavier couldn’t hear anyone pass by, but it was still a matter of time before a nurse checked on him and caught Apollo still here. Apollo crossed to the other side of Klavier’s bed and stood by his side for the moment, one had resting on the rails, and he looked like he had more to say. Klavier’s energy was gradually running out like sand filtering through an hourglass, and he waited, letting the precious few seconds they had together trickle by.
Apollo’s fingers drummed against the metal, as if nervous, and then slowly one of Apollo’s hands went for Klavier’s face. His fingers brushed Klavier’s fringe, running through softly and carefully and then pressing it back, running his hand over Klavier’s hot forehead. Klavier sucked in a breath and watched, looking at Apollo looking down at him, and the tension was suddenly there and thick between the two of them. Klavier felt like he couldn’t breathe with Apollo’s eyes on him.
The man looked nervous, like he did whenever Klavier called him out in court, but he was going to journey on. He wouldn’t stop until something forced him to. “I’ll be back tomorrow,” He said, and his voice was hushed in the quiet. His hands lingered on Klavier’s face and his thumb drew a line over his cheekbones, hesitantly light. He shifted, bowing down, and then he was pressing a dry kiss to the centre of Klavier’s forehead. The touch was pleasant, like Apollo was soothing him to sleep. The man was hyperaware of how sweaty he was, hot underneath the blanket and probably horrendously unattractive, but Apollo didn’t seem to care.
The beeps from the monitor were coming faster, twice as quick, and when Apollo pulled away he was smiling faintly. Klavier looked up at him and his heart was thumping like his music from a stereo, and he wanted to speak but he was so tired-
“Go to sleep, Klavier,” Apollo told him, his tone light with affection and eyes shining with something Klavier couldn’t quite read, and then he was falling asleep far too quickly to argue.