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12 March 2008 @ 10:05 pm
 
Hello yet again... I'm wanting to clear some of this fic off my plate before I leave for Japan. : )

Here for you (Apollo's side)
Rating: R
Words: 1500
What: angst, romance
Who: Klavier & Apollo
Notes: Written in response to a kink meme request for the effect of abuse in Apollo's past on a present relationship with Klavier. Spoilers for GS4


"I want to do it," Apollo says, breathlessly, nervously. "I want to go further with you."

"Baby," Klavier strokes strands of hair from his face. "Forehead, my baby. I only want to do what you want to do."

He tenses with his determination. "I do want to do it. You... make me feel good."

"And you, me," Klavier murmurs, leaning forward to kiss his cheek softly, again, again. "I adore you. I'll do whatever you want me to."

Apollo exhales, his eyelids flutter closed as he's kissed. His heart feels like a butterfly trapped in his chest; he chalks his nausea down to his lack of experience. It feels good, it will feel good, he just knows it. Klavier will take care of him, make him feel nice, make him feel normal, like everyone else who does this...

You like that, don't you, Justice.

A gasp, misinterpreted... Klavier's mouth is pressed against his neck, the buttons on his shirt collar expertly undone. He's so expert at this, just like adult, just like...

Don't think of anyone but me, hmm?

...but Klavier's not the same, he's different, he's got to be, different face, different hands, different voice...

I think you like it. It sounds like it.

"Do you like that, baby?" Klavier murmurs, trailing a finger down his chest like it's their first time, it is their first time, but he's not the first person who's touched his skin there...

You deserve this.

Apollo nearly cries out, no, I don't, but he chokes down the words. This is Klavier not Kristoph, a good man, not the nightmare, an honest man who is different, who cares for him, who goes slow and does only what Apollo wants. But that's not right, Klavier's hands are down his front, and at the button on his pants, and kissing him, open-mouthed, everywhere and it's just the same, the same, and he won't stop, will he, he'll just keep going, taking...

"St...stop," Apollo whimpers, hating that his heart aches from the effort of beating so hard, and that his eyes are burning with tears held back. And suddenly, so thankfully, Klavier's hands are gone, and the weight on his body is gone, and he's not trapped anymore, it stopped, it stopped.

"Oh my baby, sweetheart, what's wrong, what's wrong?" Klavier's face is a picture of anguish, and he puts arms around Apollo, platonically, like a brother. Apollo chokes.
Klavier's heart hurts too, but it's not aching with relief but with dread, like fear settling itself in stone.

"Apollo," He whispers, "Are you alright? What's the matter? Talk to me, it's ok, I'm here."

Apollo's eyes are still burning with the effort of holding back tears. It's not fair, he wants to be good for Klavier because Klavier is so good for him but he can't stop the shudder that runs through him even at the simple touch of his hands.
"Just... hang on," He says, not trusting himself to speak, not just yet. He might just howl.
"Ok," Klavier says, slowly rocking him, soothing, worried. "I'm yours, you tell me what you want, what you need. I'm here for you."

"Yeah, I know, I know," Apollo whispers, and he does. But he wants to feel it, too.

 

The second time they try they don't get past kisses and furtive touches because Apollo tenses up and Klavier is loath to believe him when he says he's ok. Kristoph never did much more than this to him either, but Apollo can't help but think of him and feel frightened about sex, frightened that something bad will happen, something violent and against his will.
Something tells him that this was Kristoph's intent, to impress himself on his body with memory, and that he will never forget the man.

"Baby," Klavier murmurs, "I don't want you to do this for me. I want you to do it for you, ok? Only come to me when you feel hot and sexy, when you feel like you want to touch me, too."

Klavier looked like his soul had been ripped when Apollo told him about Kristoph. He didn't mention Kristoph by name, because Klavier's soul had been torn by his brother once already and Apollo didn't want him to suffer anymore.
He tells Mr Wright, though. And he knows that Mr Wright is furious, but he holds Apollo's shoulders firmly and tells him he's done nothing wrong. And that he should never feel ashamed, never feel ashamed, and that Apollo's body is his to feel good about, and his alone. His to explore and cherish, and not Kristoph's to bend and tarnish.

This was Apollo's greatest fear- that he would never disassociate Kristoph's hands from Klavier's, as they stroke his body, as they make him feel good. Good and bad have been warped and twisted in his mind, but after talking to Mr Wright he feels a little better.

Mr Wright makes him tea, and he furtively reads through one of Trucy's girly magazines, for ideas.

The third time they try, Apollo feels closer to Klavier, warmer and pliant as he sits on his lap and they kiss, gently, gently.

"I want to try something," Apollo murmurs, and Klavier searches his gaze for doubt and anxiety. "Anything, baby, tell me what you want."
"I want you," Apollo licks his lips and swallows, "I want to see you. Will you... will you show me, what you do..."
Steeling himself, he gazes directly into Klavier's eyes.
"I want you to touch yourself, for me."

He feels an odd sense of satisfaction at the blush spreading across the unflappable rock star's face. Klavier is clearly surprised by the request, but he recovers good-naturedly by pressing a kiss to Apollo's lips, once, twice, three times.

"Like I said, Apollo, I'll do anything for you."

Embarrassed and aroused, Klavier twines his fingers through Apollo's, and slowly pops the buttons on his shirt with his free hand. They both breathe through their mouths, the intimacy of the moment so potent it's hard to make eye contact. Apollo's gaze follows Klavier's fingers as they slowly take care of his buttons and zipper, unusually located beneath his hipbone. He learned not long ago that these were Klavier's choice of trousers because Klavier wore no underwear, and true to form, Klavier folds back the material to reveal himself, half-hard and impressive.
Apollo's breath catches in his throat- it's just like his own, normal, human, just a dick. Klavier looks oddly vulnerable as he gazes questioningly at Apollo, and Apollo shakes his head.

"Keep going."

 

A quick breath and an inaudible gasp as Klavier takes himself in hand, and Apollo tightens his grip on their intertwined fingers. Klavier strokes himself slowly, gazing at Apollo's lips, and Apollo feels a familiar smattering of heat in his groin, a shiver up and down his spine. He feels good, he feels strangely powerful, sitting on Klavier like this, and he leans his forehead against Klavier's, opening his mouth against his cheek.

"Is this ok," Klavier murmurs, not slowing his pace, and Apollo sighs in the affirmative. He likes hearing the little hitches in Klavier's breath, watching the way he touches himself and curls his fingers over the head.
"W-will you kiss me," Klavier whispers, and Apollo is surprised by the strength of his own reaction, leaning forward to open his lips to the other man, to lick inside his mouth and feel him vocalise his pleasure. Klavier sags back against the couch, sweat beading on his brow as he forgets his embarrassment for the sight of his sweet lover's dark eyes on him. He groans a little, and spreads his legs, and Apollo spreads his, too.

Apollo puts a hand to Klavier's cheek, and Klavier turns his head to open his mouth against it, kissing Apollo's fingers. The blood is racing through Apollo's veins, he pants in tandem with Klavier, feeling thrilled and exhilarated and frightened. Klavier is starting to lose control, his hand is jerking and erratic, and he moans as one of Apollo's fingers slips inside his mouth. His fingers are becoming slick with liquid, his eyelids flutter closed. He disentangles their fingers and reaches for Apollo's cheek, instead, bringing their foreheads together once more.
Cracking his eyes open, laugh-lines forming at the sides, he whispers endearments to Apollo, speaking his pleasure.

"I feel so good, Justice... this is how you make me feel."

Apollo doesn't notice the breath catch in his throat, gripping Klavier's fingers... the moment has come, the pinnacle of his fear... his throat feels thick with anticipation, has he gotten himself in too far, what will happen, will he feel ashamed...

And Klavier comes with a quiet gasp, his mouth slack, slouching against Apollo, soiling his front and slowly stroking himself out as he rocks. His breathing slows, and he presses a long, slow kiss to the corner of Apollo's mouth. He breathes, and sighs, and his scent invades Apollo's senses, cologne, and male sweat, and sex, and sandalwood.

And that's it.

Apollo laughs... he can't help himself.

Klavier lifts his head with an effort and stares at him. "I don't believe it... Forehead, did you just laugh at me?!"

"No, no," Apollo says, trying to hide his grin. "It's not you, it's just that... well, nothing, it's just..."

He smiles and gazes at Klavier, this beautiful, beautiful man, sitting staring at him with a limp cock protruding from his trousers and an obscene mess all over his front.

"You make me feel fantastic," He says, kissing him, on his mouth, on his jaw.

"I'm starting to feel insecure, Justice," Klavier says wryly, and Apollo laughs again. He feels human, he feels free.

"I love you," He says easily, and shuffles up so that their bodies are pressing together tightly, so that he can ease his arms around Klavier's neck and kiss him properly, sweetly, hungrily.

"You liked my show, then," Klavier murmurs into the kiss, smiling and stroking his hair.

"It was very... inspirational," Apollo replies, and smiles again.

"Thankyou," He whispers, "Thankyou."


Cut it loose
Rating: PG
Words: 2000
What: gen, angst, romance
Who: Klavier & Apollo
Notes: Written in response to another kink meme request for Klavier with short hair. 8D I set it after GS4 (spoilers), to see how Klavier would react in the aftermath... here he's gone a little crazy.


When Apollo arrived at Prosecutor Klavier Gavin’s office, it looked like the site of a break-in.

CDs were strewn over the floor, posters torn from the walls and half-filled cardboard boxes scattered among the mess. Apollo had brought out his phone in an immediate impulse to call the police, but he stilled his hand as the man he had come to see appeared out from behind a desk with an armful of brochures, which he dumped unceremoniously into a box.

Klaveir Gavin looked like a mess.

His eyes were puffy and tired, his hair was loose from his customarily straight ponytail. His favourite purple jacket was missing from the ensemble, and his black shirtsleeves were rolled up past his elbows. He was sweating, and he drew a hand over his brow when he noticed Apollo, mouth curling into a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Justice,” He said in greeting, clapping dust from his hands. “I’m a bit busy, as you can see.”

Apollo could tell from his mannerisms that the man was upset. Klavier’s eyes were a little strained and a little wild, and the mess of the room was in complete opposition to the cool, composed personality he saw in court. Apollo couldn’t blame him, only days ago had they wrapped up the most shocking, challenging and emotionally draining trial of his short career. Feeling a pang of sadness in his chest, Apollo realized that coming to terms with Kristoph Gavin’s complete betrayal would be a lot harder for a brother than for an ex-apprentice. His hands fell awkwardly to his sides and he stepped cautiously into the room.

“I… can see you’re busy. I just wanted to come by and see how you… I wanted to thank you for helping me in court. I couldn’t have done it… we couldn’t have done it alone.”

Klavier stared at him, clutching a handful of his own CDs. Then he laughed, more of a bark than a laugh, and threw the CDs in a box.

“Are you saying you owe me a favour?”

Apollo swallowed. “No, not necessarily, I mean, I came just to…”

“Actually, there is something you can do for me,” Klavier cut him off brusquely, turning his back and disappearing behind his desk once more. His disembodied voice rang loudly across the room, along with the sounds of crashing boxes and ripping tissue paper.

“I’m clearing a few things out, Forehead,” Klavier called, sounding strained in his attempt at civility. Apollo wished for a way to reach him, to encourage him to calm, but he felt that any intervention would break the thin mask of normality that Klavier was attempting to wear.

“You know, you must have heard, we’ve disbanded, the Gavinners. Not a lot of point in keeping the band together. And also, I have no family anymore, thankyou, so I want to make a new start. Clear out all of this junk, sitting here collecting dust.”

Apollo listened to the erratic commentary, neglecting to mention that half of the publications Klavier was throwing out – Gavinners CDs, posters, merchandise- were items the group had only released in the past few months.

“So yeah…” The voice continued, “a new start. A new me. I want to break out on my own again, turn a new flower, or a leaf or whatever you English say. And that’s why I need you, Justice. Ah, found it.”

Finally reappearing from behind his desk, Klavier straightened, holding a pair of scissors in one hand, and clutching his long, blond ponytail in the other. Looking Apollo in the eye, he spoke firmly.

“Cut it off.”

“What?!” Apollo started involuntarily, his heart thumping hard against his ribs. What in the… he hoped this wasn’t the beginning of a nervous breakdown for the man.

“I told you, Justice, cut it off. I can’t do it myself. Or maybe I can…”

“No, no no no!” Apollo darted forwards as Klavier lifted the scissors to his thick, blond curls. Oh god, were all rocks stars so… so unstable? He was strangely reminded of a famous pop princess who had once shaved off all of her hair in a fit of rage… what was her name again, Britney… Britney Steers…

 
“Justice,” Klavier’s voice sounded strained, his façade of control finally cracking. It was a sad, almost pathetic vision that met Apollo’s eyes, of the handsome man clutching a pair of scissors, the scattered debris of his career pooled around his feet. When he spoke again it was quiet and pleading, rough as he met Apollo’s eyes.

“Apollo. Please. Just… do this for me. Please.”

Apollo was quiet as he gazed back, recognizing the awful shadow of desperation that was cast across the young singer’s face. Nodding silently, he picked his way through the minor disaster spread across the floor, making his way to Klavier’s side to accept the scissors. With Apollo’s silent agreement, Klavier broke their gaze and turned his head away, sitting himself on a box and shoving his hands into his pockets. Dealing with other people’s upset and pain wasn’t one of Apollo’s fortes, and he hesitated, glancing around to see if there was anything other than Klavier’s handsome pair of paper scissors he could use. He pulled his own travel comb from his pocket and wet it with the aid of a bottle of water from Klavier’s desk before stepping up behind him and nervously putting his hands to Klavier’s hair.


“Please, it’s ok. You can relax a little bit,” He said, feeling the tension emanating from Klavier’s body as if it were heat. Klavier was sitting unnaturally straight, it was as if he couldn’t wait to excuse himself from the chair and Apollo’s close proximity.

It was only when Apollo began to card the comb slowly through the long strands of hair that Klavier’s shoulders slumped a little. His hair was a beautiful colour, Apollo mused to himself, twining his fingers through the locks as he combed to untangle the strands. What little moisture he could thread into the hair with the comb made it glisten, the white-blond colour of each strand running from root to tip. Pausing only to add a little more water to his comb, he ran the fine teeth through Klavier’s fringe as well, apologizing quietly when he grazed Klavier’s skin with his knuckles.
Soon, Apollo became too absorbed in his task to notice Klavier closing his eyes and slouching a little as he relaxed. Hairdressing was actually rather enjoyable, he thought, the rhythmic strokes of his comb feeling pleasant and steadying. It was only when he’d combed out the loose ponytail to a straight, golden curtain falling across Klavier’s back that he began to feel a little intimidated. Klavier’s beautiful hair had to be worth a lot of money, maybe even part of his insurance! Grasping the scissors, Apollo swallowed as he took the twin blades to Klavier’s hair and prepared to cut.

“You’d better not sue me for this if you don’t like it,” He piped up, and Klavier, to his surprise, laughed… not the harsh bark of before but the melodious sound he was accustomed to and enjoyed far more.

“Justice,” Came the reply, “Apollo. Forehead. I’ve never bested you in court and I can’t see that changing any time in the near future. If you defended yourself against me I’m sure I’d be without my hair and without a case.”

Flushing a little at the compliment, Apollo made the first cut with his scissors as they lapsed back into a comfortable silence. Watching the strands spilling onto the dirty floor like golden silk made him feel a strange sense of grief. It was like cutting away the memories, the heavy weight of emotion they had invested in the people and history of the cases that had consumed them. A snip with the scissors, and another lock fell… that was the betrayal of Daryan, Klavier’s trusted bandmate. Another cut, more hair spilling to the floor… they were the deeds and abuse of Kristoph, a man who had spun them all to his will and sinister plot. Apollo’s gaze turned soft and inwards as he cut slowly… the golden strands pooling at his feet were Mr Wright and the false evidence he’d forced Apollo to use, Mr Wright and Trucy, his new sister… his mother, back from the dead… things he could forgive and forget, one day…

“…Apollo.”

 

Klavier’s voice interrupted the journey into his thoughts. Klavier’s posture wasn’t so strained and awkward anymore… he was sitting straight and poised, a little of his old self back in the language of his body.

“… I said that you owed me a favour.”

Apollo didn’t answer, stilling the movement of his scissors. He was nearly finished.

“I want to apologise. For whatever favours you owe me, Apollo, I owe you ten. You don’t know it, but you have helped me, a lot. Since we met, even, at that park.”

“You remember that?” Apollo asked, idly fingering strands of Klavier’s hair.

“There’s a lot I remember,” Klavier replied solemnly, “And for all of your hard work and kind words, I want to thank you.”

Apollo frowned… he wasn’t sure what Klavier was referring to. It didn’t matter so much, though, he could hear what he was trying to say. They had managed to help eachother, in a way, filling in the gaps as they’d navigated the complex trials that had involved the people so dear to them.
Apollo wanted to deny it, he was hardly a person of the calibre Klavier seemed to think he was. He remained silent, though, resuming his cutting and shaping the back of Klavier’s hair to curl neatly at the nape of his neck. The man before him had certainly given him help at every opportunity, picking up his case whenever it had fallen, showing him police department evidence, offering him a friendly smile in a corridor.
They complimented eachother, he thought. And they needed eachother, to join forces in overcoming the events of seven years prior that had so affected their lives.

“You’re welcome,” Apollo murmured, curling his fingers through Klavier’s hair to lift it from the scalp and give it life. “Anytime.”

Touching his hand briefly to Klavier’s neck, he stepped backwards and put his comb in his pocket. “I’m done. Do you want a mirror?”

Turning to face him, Klavier offered Apollo a big smile. Strands of his now-short hair were curling around his face as they dried, the absence of the weighty ponytail drawing attention to his face and eyes. It looked good, Apollo thought, not the work of a professional, but it made him look younger, and a little taller.

“How do I look, Justice?”

“You look…” Apollo couldn’t help but swallow. Even with his long hair, he’d always thought Klavier was terribly attractive. But with his short, sweet locks, he looked even better. Roguish, even.

“You look… nice. Very nice.”

Klavier’s grin broadened. “Then no, I don’t need a mirror. I trust you after all.”

Standing, he brushed out the creases in his trousers and clapped a hand over Apollo’s shoulder.

“Let’s get out of this dump and leave this all for another day. Do you feel like a drink?”

A little taken aback, Apollo nodded. “Sure, that sounds nice.”

“Excellent. I know a great little place, we can take my bike. And you know…”
Klavier raised an eyebrow.
“Maybe we can discuss your hairstyle.”

In any other circumstance, Apollo would have frowned. Now, though, he couldn’t help but laugh, glad that Klavier had returned to himself. Defending his hairstyle wouldn’t be too bad, he thought, as they left the room of mess and hair and memories together.
After all, he still had the scissors.



---------------

Enjoy!
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Toraneko: Gyakuten Saiban - Klavier AIRGUITAR!!!darkyo on March 12th, 2008 12:27 pm (UTC)
Brilliant fics!
saskia_dx: :)saskia_dx on March 12th, 2008 03:38 pm (UTC)
there can never be enough fanfiction with theese two oo
Lilsarahofcroydon on March 12th, 2008 11:00 pm (UTC)
NEVER. :D
Msnowym on March 12th, 2008 05:39 pm (UTC)
It's been a fairly non-great day so far, but I feel muchly cheered up after reading your amazing Klavier x Apollo fics ^___^.

The first one was really sexy, with caring!Klavier <3. I liked how he fawned over Apollo. And about Kristoph-- I'm glad I'm not the only one that thought of the possibility that he was doing something really horrible to Apollo when they worked together... I've been yearning for some ficcage of such a situation, so I'm really glad you posted this ^o^. NOT THAT I WANT APOLLO TO BE RAPED-- of course not-- but it's so plausible, with how evil Kristoph turned out to be. And in the end, Klavier helped heal Apollo in your fic, so it worked out in the end <3 <3 <3.

The second fic... I think I almost liked that one better, even though that goes against my smut-fangirlism... but the game never went into how Klavier reacted after his brother was charged for murder. I definitely think your idea of him cutting his hair and throwing out nearly everything is what would've happened. Apollo got so into combing and cutting Klavier's hair, that it was really fun to read ^__^. *could picture the whole scene really well in her mind*

Anyway, LOVED the fics, and I hope you get around to writing more of this couple sometime ^______^. *skips off toward the rest of her bad day with a little more hope*
Lilsarahofcroydon on March 12th, 2008 10:50 pm (UTC)
Aw, thankyou! I'm really happy I was able to brighten your day somehow. :) I really love these two, and I definitely plan to write more of them. <3
SUGGESTIONS? THOUGHTS? YOUR MOTHER? (Biz.): wait lemme make-out with you for thatofficialbizness on March 12th, 2008 11:55 pm (UTC)
The way you write these two is so cute. nowwritemoar
Lilsarahofcroydon on March 13th, 2008 12:59 am (UTC)
Hahaha, no pressure or anything. XD Thanks!
(Deleted comment)
Lilsarahofcroydon on March 13th, 2008 12:20 pm (UTC)
Heheh, I can't see Kristoph as an abuser either, but it was 1am and I saw it on the kink meme prompt and thought what the hell! :D Sometimes it's easier to write angsty drivel in the first person, and it was a lot of fun, strangely.

CAN'T WAIT. :D
Midnight Channel: hurrrrgrimmjizzle on March 14th, 2008 12:39 am (UTC)
God I always love cute little fluffs like the 2nd one. ;_;

So cuteeee
fenrir_ice_wolf on April 20th, 2008 06:43 pm (UTC)
i love these <3 just wondering- is there another fic, that's like, connected to the first one?
Lilsarahofcroydon on April 20th, 2008 10:51 pm (UTC)
Thankyou! :)

And at present there isn't a connecting fic to the first, but I was planning to do one from Klavier's point of view. I'll definitely post it once it's done!