Work Text:
“Wake up!”
A heavy weight falls onto Klavier Gavin’s chest, and he sharply exhales. He groans as the last visions of his sleep- rows of motorcycles in the concert hall’s audience section, revving their engines in appreciation of his air guitar- disappear. The brown hair tickling his nose alerts him to the identity of the lump lying on top of him: his girlfriend Ema Skye. “What, Fraulein.”
“Aw, no ‘Liebling’?”
“Not when you wake me up at-” he glances at the bright red display on the alarm clock- “5:35.” Far too early. A man like him needs his beauty sleep. He feels his breath leave him when Ema shifts position atop him. “Oof. How many Snackoo’s have you been eating lately?” he teases. She digs her elbows into his chest in response.
Ema then rests her head on his shoulder, and sounding hardly any more awake than him, she grumbles, “Get up. We have a crime scene.”
Klavier moans and pinches the bridge of his nose. He can already tell it’ll be a bad day. Ema had reminded him the last time he got into one of his moods just how lucky he was that she put up with his shit. She had then forcefully expressed how fortunate he was that she didn’t just knee him in the balls (which she then admitted to fantasizing several times over). “Even if we didn’t show up to work and were fired, we could always just make a living as models. If you let me decide your wardrobe, anyway.”
Ema doesn’t take the bait. She just quirks her lips up in an odd sort of smirk when she drops the bomb: “Apollo’s going to be there.”
Klavier is suddenly wide awake. He turns onto his side to hide his expression. “Why are you so obsessed with the idea of me crushing on Herr Forehead?” he says, even as he feels tingles run down his spine. He dismisses the sensation immediately.
She gives him /the look/TM. “Do you /really/ not know how transparent you are?”
“Who are you to talk? I saw you change into your good sunglasses last time you testified in one of his court cases. When’s the last time you did that for me?”
She sticks out her tongue- a little childish, but it works. Klavier pouts and rubs her arms in a conciliatory way. She turns up her nose but leans into the touch anyway. “Well, if you don’t make a move on your defense attorney boyfriend soon, I will.”
Klavier lets out a breath he hadn’t known he was holding. “Fine. And best of luck to you. What is the phrase? ‘May the best man win’?”
“Best /person/.”
“Ach, no, wait. Silly me. May the best blond rockstar-prosecutor win.”
She punches him in the arm and leaves before him. She waits in the hallway and laughs when he frantically chases after her, calling her name.
---
“Um, Ema? Isn’t that enough Luminol spray?”
The detective startles, ripping her stare away from the man in front of her long enough to notice the clearly over-sprayed stretch of sidewalk in front of her. “...Oops.”
Her company spares her a concerned glance. “Are you alright? You aren’t usually this distracted when you get to do forensics work.” He crosses his arms almost as though he is staring right through her. She gulps; she has learned through prior experience that Apollo Justice’s reputation as a feared interrogator is not exaggerated.
Ema avoids answering Apollo by shoveling a handful of Snackoo’s in her mouth and resolutely not looking at him. Not looking at his tight white shirt or the muscles straining beneath it. Not looking… /Not/ looking…
“Is there something on my shirt?”
“No!” /Not your vest, that’s for damn sure./ Ema glances at the discarded red garment over on the bench, then appreciatively rakes her eyes back over his deceptively fit form. Ema tugs at the collar of her lab coat. It’s already hot enough outside, hence the reason Apollo had disrobed, so she certainly doesn’t need this today.
“Ah, Liebling! Herr Forehead! How goes the investigation?”
Klavier leans over her shoulder, his eyes widening the slightest amount as he takes in Apollo’s muscular frame. Ema hides a smirk, feeling better to see her boyfriend as flustered as she is.
“Oh? Are you the one assigned to this case, Prosecutor Gavin? Ema didn’t mention.” Ema swears she hears Apollo’s voice turn up an octave. The way he rocks forward on the balls of his heels and the way his eyebrows soften, Apollo seems markedly more chipper than he had moments ago. Ema quietly files this information away.
Klavier, on the other hands, juts out his lip in an unmistakable pout. “Why is Fraulein Detective ‘Ema,’ while I am ‘Prosecutor Gavin’? That hardly seems fair.”
Apollo’s eyes show zero sympathy at the older man’s sulking. “Didn’t you call me ‘Herr Forehead’ about half a minute ago?”
“That was then, and this is now. Ja, Apollo?”
Apollo shivers. “...Yeah, that just feels weird.”
Klavier and Ema both laugh. Ema sees a glint in Klavier’s eyes, and she knows him well enough to know he will use Apollo’s given name as often as he can from this point forward.
“Alright, /some of us/ need to work,” she scolds them as she flips her sunglasses down. She stuffs her headphones in and scrolls to a podcast about Bill Nye on her iPod. But even as she continues her investigation, she glances up at the two men before her. Although she can’t hear them, she can imagine how their banter is unfolding.
She allows herself a moment to smile fondly before she mentally calls herself a sap and returns to her work with renewed vigor.
---
“Oh, damn it.”
Klavier slows his motorcycle to a halt as he approaches Apollo Justice standing by the sidewalk, inspecting his bicycle, a stream of further curses pouring from the defense attorney’s mouth. Klavier removes his helmet and only slightly overdoes the action of flipping his hair out of his face. “Achtung. I was about to congratulate you on your win in court today, but you don’t seem in a celebratory mood. Is something the matter?”
Apollo grumbles under his breath, but Klavier makes out the words “flat tire.” Klavier looks to the bike himself, pausing as he is momentarily blinded by the bicycle’s bright bright red color, and confirms that one of the wheels is almost completely deflated.
“Alright. Get on.” Klavier pats the seat behind him.
“Wh-what?!” Apollo sputters.
“I shall give you a ride back. You are heading to Herr Wright’s agency, ja?”
“U-um… yeah, but you don’t have to-”
“I want to. I insist.” Klavier turns up his million-watt smile, hoping to make his polite offer seem impossible to refuse.
Apparently, he succeeds, because with only a few more moments of reluctance, Apollo climbs onto the back of Klavier’s motorcycle. His hands awkwardly tug on the fabric of Klavier’s jacket. “Um, well, thank you. Aren’t there any laws in Japanifornia about motorcycle capacity or passenger helmet usage, though?”
The prosecutor chuckles. “You don’t need to be so concerned with the law, Schatzi.”
“I’m a /lawyer./ And so are you!”
Klavier laughs harder, and only belatedly realizes his slip in calling Apollo “Schatzi.” He immediately feels his cheeks heating up. Luckily, it seems Apollo didn’t recognize the term of endearment.
He gives his helmet to Apollo anyway. Apollo spends entirely too long tucking his hair antennae under the helmet, and then he needs Klavier’s help to set the helmet correctly. ‘/This/ is the man I fell for,’ Klavier admits to himself as a wide grin overtakes his features.
Without warning, Klavier takes off, and Apollo’s loose grasp immediately tightens. His arms wrap around Klavier’s torso and his cheek finds itself against Klavier’s back. Klavier is again immensely grateful that Apollo can’t see his face.
As they tear down the road, Apollo’s death grip starts to relax. When Klavier glances back, he can even see the man /enjoying/ himself, watching the signs fly by in wonder.
“Like the motorcycle, Apollo?”
“...It’s not so bad.”
Klavier turns forward again, embracing the comfortable silence once more, when Apollo speaks.
“Thanks, by the way.”
“For what?”
“For today in court. I couldn’t have gotten to the truth of the case without you.”
Klavier taps his finger against the motorcycle handlebar to a rhythm only he can hear. “That is my job.”
Apollo draws himself upward to respond, which results in his next breath landing on the nape of Klavier’s neck. Klavier shivers.
“Your job is to prosecute the defendant. So… thank you. I think we make a good team.”
Klavier feels himself grow buoyant. If not for the feel of the leather seat beneath him and the sound of wheels crunching against gravel, he would swear he had lifted into the air. ‘Achtung, calm down,’ he tells himself. He is not a teenage girl. When he has fluttery feelings like this, he needs to contain them and let them out in a private forum, like a journal, or a songbook.
Alright, he might be a teenage girl.
“You flatter me.” At that, Klavier feels the expressive man shaking his head against Klavier’s back.
“Not at all.”
“What brought on these compliments? Usually, you are content to hide your affection for me with insults, nein?”
As expected, Apollo sputters, and Klavier smiles smugly. But Apollo continues with the utmost sincerity in his voice, “...I just thought you should know, that’s all. Sometimes, like after /that/ trial, or like after you disbanded the Gavinners… you seem a bit more distant. And I don’t want that distance to grow between us… uh, without clearing some things up, that is to say!” Apollo’s pitch rises markedly toward the end of his sentence, and Klavier can practically feel the heat radiating off of Apollo’s face.
Klavier laughs then and looks back briefly to tell him, “Thank you.”
In the process, he sees Apollo’s blushing face, so the defense attorney looks away and yells, “Eyes on the road, Prosecutor Gavin!”
Struck by his own good mood, Klavier lets an idea float around in his mind. Impulsively, he veers off the highway.
“Where are you taking me??”
He doesn’t answer, instead leading them off a beaten path toward a grove. As they get closer, a sparkling lake becomes visible. With practiced ease, Klavier navigates the bumps in the path. He brings the motorcycle to a stop under the shade of a tree.
Apollo lifts the helmet, and his breath catches in his throat. He slowly stumbles over toward the water, and Klavier follows closeby in case the shaky-legged man falls. A first motorcycle ride will do that to you (Klavier remembers his own well).
“This is beautiful,” Apollo manages. His voice is barely above a whisper, as though he is afraid to disturb the serenity of the location.
“Ja. I love it here, and so I wanted to share it with you. I thought you might like it.”
Apollo seems stunned at the simple declaration for just a moment. He presses on, “How did you find this place?”
“I like to explore off my regular route home, so I can find gems like this. Mein Bruder thought American nature could never compare to Germany, but he never spent enough time looking.” Klavier’s face immediately sobers after mentioning Kristoph. He looks away. “...”
Klavier struggles to fill the silence, until he hears a sharp intake of breath beside him. He turns just in time to see Apollo cup his hands around his mouth and shout, “I’M APOLLO JUSTICE, AND I’M FINE!!”
Klavier sits in stunned quiet, his mouth dropping open unconsciously.
Apollo scratches the back of his head. “This seemed like a nice place to do my Chords of Steel… looks like I was right.”
Chords of Steel…? Klavier’s brain catches up a moment later. He has heard Herr Wright and Fraulein Cykes lament over this particular routine of Apollo’s, but he had never truly known what exactly it was.
“It’s a really good stress reliever,” Apollo says while glancing across the lake. Klavier almost believes Apollo is talking more to himself, until Apollo turns to him. “You wanna try?”
“...Try?”
“Chords of Steel. Just like I did it!” Apollo meets his gaze head-on, seeming suddenly far more confident and direct than usual. “Come on. As a singer, I bet you can really project.”
Klavier straightens up immediately, hearing the challenge in Apollo’s statement. He opens his mouth, but pauses. “Ach, I feel silly.”
Apollo says nothing. Just waits.
Finally, Klavier lets loose. “I’M KLAVIER GAVIN, AND I’M FINE!”
Apollo laughs from beside him, and Klavier feels distinctly embarrassed, yet also… lightened. “That’s it! You’re almost louder than I am, Klavier!” Apollo stands to stretch and head back toward the motorcycle, but Klavier stays still, focused on that one word. ‘Klavier’... He smiles and follows Apollo back to the motorcycle.
Apollo climbs back on with far less reluctance and puts on the helmet by himself (although Klavier still adjusts it, just a little). He looks relaxed on the motorcycle, almost like an expert passenger, and Klavier’s grin widens. He wishes he could capture the image of Apollo sitting on his motorcycle, waiting for him, forever.
“Ah, yes, Apollo. Since I drove you back and did your Chords of Steel thing with you, you shall buy me a coffee for the next investigation, ja?”
“What?! I never agreed to that!”
But he doesn’t say no, either. It’s the little victories that count, Klavier thinks.
---
“Ughhhhhh…” Ema sighs and rests her head on her desk. She outstretches one arm in front of her, opening and closing her hand idly as a form of distraction from her work.
She rotates back and forth in her chair as she stares at the pile of paperwork next to her and the still open Excel sheet on her laptop. How do her bosses manage to make science seem boring?
Then again, most days in the office are pretty monotonous. She much prefers being in the field, getting to use her new gizmos, riling up the prosecutors and defense attorneys at the scene, and getting to apply her knowledge in practical ways. Office days are just typing and more typing, filing and more filing. The bright spot of these days is when she spots a shock of blond hair and gets to go make fun of her boyfriend. But he’s not in today.
As she closes her eyes and contemplates tearing into the Emergency Snackoo’s in her bottom desk drawer, she hears a familiar (extremely loud) voice.
“No way, that’s A-W-E-S-O-M-E, man!”
Ema leans over in her chair to catch the bright red jumpsuit of the prosecutor protege, Robin Newman.
“Thanks, but it’s really nothing. Cases like that are pretty standard at our agency.”
Ema sits up in her chair. This voice is somehow even louder. /Apollo/, her mind supplies. She not-so-subtly perks up, rolling her wheely chair slightly in their direction. She sees Robin’s starstruck face and can just imagine what courtroom tales Apollo has just regaled her with.
“Oh, Ema!”
Apollo waves in her direction, and she nearly fumbles. Apparently she wasn’t as inconspicuous as she thought. Apollo directs a quick “this was nice” and “see you later” in Robin’s direction before coming to join the detective at her desk.
“How are you? No offense, but you look a little tired.”
She stares him over. “I should be the one saying that.” Despite the man’s seeming enthusiasm during his conversation with Robin, exhaustion now shines through in his posture, his voice, the bags under his eyes, even the drooping of his hair antennae. She doesn’t need his talent in perceiving to notice how stressed he looks.
She pats her desk, and he sits upon it.
“Alright, tell me what’s up.”
He glances at her with hesitation. He runs one hand over his face, and then words begin pouring out. As he describes the details of his busy and at times demoralizing day working with an insane client, uncooperative witnesses, and a frustrating lack of evidence, she winces. When he begins to wind down (“It just kinda… sucks. ...Sorry for ranting”), she nods in sympathy and solidarity- she’s had those kinds of days, too. She opens her drawer and digs out that bag of Emergency Snackoo’s.
“Really? Thanks.” He seems almost touched as she hands over the treat, outstretched hand hovering as though he’ll taint the sacred snack by being close to it. When he tosses one into his mouth, his features brighten immediately. “This is delicious!”
“Of course! Did you think I ate them for my health??”
“No, well-” he cuts himself off to stuff another into his mouth- “maybe?” He stares at the bag in wonder. “How are these so good??”
Ema flips her sunglasses down and smirks. “Chocolate increases endorphin levels in the brain. The perfect food for a grumpy day,” she boasts.
Apollo’s eyes sparkle and he places a hand on Ema’s shoulder (which does /not/ make her blush- shut up) before declaring, “In that case, we should get more chocolate. It’s almost your lunch hour, isn’t it? It’d be nice to get out of the office.”
She looks at him skeptically, but eventually responds, “Fine.” She allows him to lead her out of the building and down a few blocks toward a brightly colored store labeled “Liberty Patisserie.”
As soon as his feet are through the door, he calls out, “Hey, it’s me!”
The woman behind the counter smiles. “Oh, hello, Apollo! And who’s this? A girlfriend?”
The duo both immediately blush. Apollo quickly diverts the subject by asking for today’s special.
Ema tunes out for a second as she takes in her surroundings. The small store has a very homey air, from the baubles decorating the shelves to the family photographs hung on the walls. She can’t help but also notice the relatively cheap prices next to the pastries on the menu blackboard. And with a cheesy name like “Liberty Patisserie”... no wonder Apollo like this place.
“What would you like, Ema?”
“Surprise me.” She flops into one of the booths and exhales. The sweet smell feels like it is healing her from her miserable day.
When Apollo comes to the booth, it is with two oreo tarts and a small bag of macarons. Ema sits up straighter in her chair, consciously avoiding licking her lips.
The two devour the sweets almost too quickly, as Ema notes with pleasure she still has a half hour of her lunch break. She eyes the menu once more before sighing in content. “You know, the fop only likes German chocolates. He calls everything else a ‘cheap imitation.’”
Apollo snorts, a booming noise that resonates throughout the small room, which eventually descends into peals of laughter. Ema records the sound in her memory, knowing she will play it again and again in her mind. She feels like slapping herself. Instead, she catches his infectious laughter.
“I can see that,” Apollo mutters when his delight dies down. “I’m pretty good at baking. I bet I could make him eat those words.”
“Oh, please do!”
He meets her eye across the table, and she stares back, feeling more comfortable than she ever imagined she would be.
“Why’d you bring me here, Apollo?”
He quirks his head. “That’s obvious, isn’t it? I love it here, and I wanted to share it with you. I thought you might like it, too.” He looks away a moment, seeming caught in a pleasant memory.
She fights off her embarrassment. “Hey!” She fishes a Snackoo out of her on-the-go pack. “I bet I can calculate the exact angle and strength needed to make the chocolate land in your mouth. Scientifically!”
He returns her smirk. “Yeah?”
“Yep. Just /don’t move./” She closes one eye, sticks out her tongue, and throws.
She misses.
“Ugh, that was all your fault, Apollo!”
“I didn’t even move!”
Her phone dings then. Her eyebrows raise above her hairline as she feels giddiness overcome her. “No way!!”
“What?! What is it??”
She turns the screen to him, opened to a subscription-version of some science journal. The headline reads, “European forensics scientists make breakthrough in fingerprinting technology.”
“Oh, um… that’s great!” he says, clearly attempting to match her excitement.
The enthusiasm in her expression begins to meld with grumpiness and bitterness as she scrolls through the article, however. “This could have been me,” she grumbled, “if I weren’t stuck being a detective instead.”
Apollo is quiet a moment. Then, voice high with confusion, he asks, “But aren’t you cooler, though?”
She makes an incomprehensible face at him, but he continues.
“I mean, you apply forensics to the science of investigation, right? You’ve helped in some of the hugest legal cases in the state, and you’re like the first of your kind aren’t you? A scientist-detective? And most impressive of all, you manage to work and live alongside a ‘glimmerous fop’ every day!”
She blinks a couple of times. She narrows her eyes and crosses her arms, but she can’t hide her smile. “I guess you’re right. Thanks for trying.”
Apollo continues, “Now, if you’re going to talk uncool jobs, how about a defense attorney who’s actually a glorified errand boy? Mr. Wright had me buy grape juice, straighten up the files, and clean the toilet /twice/ in the last week! And don’t get me started on Charley’s watering regimen!” He sighs overdramatically, and Ema chuckles. Complaining is something he has in common with Klavier. And herself, she supposes.
“That does sounds like Mr. Wright. He likes to pretend otherwise, but he can be as anal as Mr. Edgeworth sometimes. Don’t get me wrong, I love them both, and you better not tell Mr. Edgeworth I said that, but…”
Apollo laughs too.
Ema’s cares melt away with a smile. “So you’ve got a green thumb, huh?”
He blushes a bit. “Yeah… I gripe about caring for Charley, but I have been getting better at it, so I’m starting to enjoy it a bit more.”
“I could use your help sometime, then, if you wanted. I started a little garden outside the place I share with the fop, and goodness knows he doesn’t want to get his hands dirty.”
“‘I’d love to.”
He walks her back to her workplace, and when they part ways, he goes for a wave, but she pulls him in for a hug. She ascends the elevator back to her office, part of her dying with mortification, but a larger part of her savoring that she has a pleasant taste in her mouth (and it’s not just because of the chocolate).
---
“Be careful!”
“Of course, Liebling.” Klavier brushes his fingers through the brunette tresses before twirling them into a coiffed bun. He twists a hair tie into his creation and eyes the result with pride.
Ema immediately shoves her phone into his hand, and he takes a picture of his work. She takes the phone from him and scrunitizes the photo. “Hmm… I was worried entrusting you with my hair was a bad idea… but this is actually really nice, fop.”
“How kind. I am very talented in hair dressing, Fraulein. How do you think this masterpiece of styling happens every day?” He gestures to his drill.
Ema appraisingly touches her bun once more before turning back to her boyfriend. “Yeah, yeah. Thanks.” She presses a kiss to his cheek.
Not content with the chaste display of affection, he throws both arms around her and nuzzles the side of her face. She squawks, but accepts the embrace.
“Perhaps I should put my hair in a bun, too, ja? It is quite hot today.”
“I’ll do it for you.”
Klavier immediately swivels away from her. “Nein, nein. I have seen how messy your buns are.”
“Grrr… I’ll get my hands on those silky locks of yours one day.”
“Don’t count on it, Fraulein,” he says, but his grin is teasing. He pulls at his collar and fans his face, practically panting in the humidity. It truly is sweltering today. He snorts when he looks to his girlfriend and sees that, even in this weather, she has not removed her lab coat.
...Then again, he himself is still wearing his jacket. A rockstar must always look fashionable, after all.
The duo continue their rather leisurely walk with only the occasional small talk, until a Calico cat wanders into their path.
Trailing behind the cat, one Apollo Justice.
“Oh, Klavier! Ema! What are you doing here?”
Ema has already crouched down to dote on the animal, so the question naturally falls to Klavier. “We are just taking a walk, despite the horribly humid weather,” Klavier answers, while glaring distinctly at his outdoorsy lover, who had dragged him out here. She ignores him entirely. “And yourself, Apollo?”
“I’m walking Mikeko here. Isn’t she adorable?” he asks, his face melting into one of utter bliss.
“This cat is definitely male,” Ema responds.
Apollo pretends not to hear her.
Mikeko rubs himself up against Ema’s leg and purrs.
“Wow, she’s pretty affectionate with you!” Apollo’s eyes widen, and he leans down to their level.
Klavier cautiously joins them in a squat. He angles one hand toward the cat, only to have it batted away by Mikeko’s claws. “Autsch!”
Apollo and Ema both immediately reach for Klavier’s injured hand. The prosecutor grumbles, “He probably smells Vongole on me.”
“What he smells on you is fear,” Ema teases.
“I’m not afraid,” Klavier sniffs, “But you have to protect a rockstar’s face.”
“Not a rockstar anymore,” Apollo points out. Ema gives an undignified snort.
“Ach, a celebrity is always in the public eye and mind, Apollo. You should know. You have made quite a name for yourself.”
“M-Me?”
Ema draws herself up beside Klavier. “Of course! You’re the protege of Phoenix Wright!”
Klavier continues, “You defended a mob boss.”
“And a pro-wrestler.”
“You took down the Dark Age of the Law.”
Apollo covers his face. “I didn’t do that alone. I had Mr. Wright, Athena, Prosecutor Blackquill, Chief Prosecutor Edgeworth, and you guys!”
“Yeah,” Ema admits; her smile grows. Her embarrassment over the flattery and sincerity seems to fade, replaced with a comfortable look. Klavier catches her glance, and they have an entire conversation through their eyes.
“Ja. ...Apollo.”
Apollo looks to Klavier, his posture alert at the sudden change in the man’s tone.
“This Sunday, how would you feel about going to watch Space Jam 5 with me?”
Ema draws in a breath, before adding, “Or maybe this Sunday, you’d like to go the Natural History Museum with me?”
Apollo stammers for a moment.
“As a date,” Klavier adds, staring him directly in the eyes. Ema nods.
If possible, Apollo’s face turns even redder.
Klavier turns to Ema, who is already looking at him. He knows both of them asking him out at the same time is probably not the best idea, but honestly, he feels better doing it with her around. He’s not nervous, but since admitting his feelings for Apollo to himself, he’s been extremely open about it with Ema. And she has repaid that honesty exactly the same amount. He feels lucky that this is something he can share with her, even if soon Apollo will choose one of them or neither of them to date.
Apollo finally glances up at the duo through his hands. Klavier treasures the flustered look on his face. But a moment later, Apollo speaks. “W-well, uh, which one first?”
“...Huh?” Ema looks to Apollo, then to Klavier, then back to Apollo. Klavier knows he is mirroring her expression.
“The movie first, then the museum? ...Or vice versa?”
Klavier is at a loss of words for one of the first times in his life. “You mean, you wish to go on both dates?”
“Y-Yeah? ...Isn’t that what you were asking?”
Ema smacks her own forehead. “Oh. Oh! That’s great!”
Klavier caught on to her line of thinking a moment later. He had never imagined in his wildest fantasies that Apollo would be like them. When Ema begins to giggle, Klavier joins in, and both of them shoot a fond look Apollo’s way.
Although seeming pleased and embarrassed in equal measure, Apollo still looks confused. “So, um, which date was first again?”
---
“Come on in the pool, Apollo!”
“Hold on!” Apollo finishes securing the floatie around his waist before slowly wading into the water. He relaxes as he reclines into floating on his back.
He watches in awe as his girlfriend tears through the water like a dolphin. She appears as a blur under the water line until she surfaces in the shallow end, next to Apollo. “Hey, Klav, get in!”
“Ach, I do not wish to ruin my hair. Although you two look quite funny like that.” He gestures to Ema’s bangs, plastered against her forehead and hanging in her eyes, and Apollo’s antennae, drooping almost to his mouth.
Ema looks at Apollo for a moment, and he immediately gets the hint. He winds up his arms behind him and, with as much force as he can muster, splashes a torrent of water onto his boyfriend. Ema follows him, raining down water on all three of them.
Klavier lets loose an undignified yell, vainly throwing his arms out in front of him. When the water clears, he holds his hair out before his eyes and inspects it. Apparently deciding the damage is done, he jumps into the water and wreaks revenge upon his lovers.
Somewhere along the line in attempting to escape, Ema climbs onto Apollo’s back. He gladly escorts her to the very edge of the shallow end, when he remembers his difficulties swimming and drops her.
“Hey!”
Klavier eagerly takes this chance to dunk her below the water. When she resurfaces, her cold fury radiates off her in waves. “Fop. You will regret that.”
Apollo backs up against the pool wall and contentedly watches his partners chase one another about.
Any barriers he may have felt with his company have melted away completely. He can’t help a smile as he looks at them and realizes he can cuddle them, kiss them, take them on dates whenever.
He slip underwater to hide his dreamy sigh. This sure beats telling people that his cat is his girlfriend.
---
“Ema… dah dah dum, it’s a chemical reaction… power chords of love…”
“What’s that you’re singing, Klav?”
Klavier continues plucking the strings of his guitar, but turns to give his girlfriend his full attention. “Just improvising a song, Liebling.”
“It sounds super cheesy. That’s just like you.” She grins and flops her head into his lap. He pauses his playing to run one hand through her hair, while he continues to hum.
Apollo listens to the whole exchange from the kitchen. He transfers a few handmade pastries to a plate and brings it out to the living room of the apartment. Apollo leans over the side of the couch, waving the enticing treats in his partners’ faces.
“Ah, Schatzi, thank you.” Klavier begins to reach for a biscuit, but Ema beats him to the one he is eyeing. She sticks her tongue out at him. He crosses his legs so her head falls onto the couch cushion.
“Thanks, ‘Pollo!” Ema says around mouthfuls of biscuit. “Hey, did you hear the song Klav was writing me?”
“I have actually been composing a song about the both of you. Your names are just so poetic,” Klavier explains, idly strumming his guitar once more, “I adore forming my lips around the words ‘Ema’ and ‘Apollo.’”
Apollo blushes, in equal measure from flattery and a slightly dirty mind. “Well? Can we hear it?”
“Ach, it is still unfinished. It is not ready to receive your approval or disapproval.”
“Oh, you perfectionist fop. You know we’re gonna approve,” Ema mutters.
Apollo smiles at her. Although he and Ema continue to pretend not to like Klavier’s music, they’ve both grown really fond of his voice. Plus, the songs he sings for them are much sweeter and slower than the rock music the Gavinners would play. Apollo melts a little bit whenever Klavier directs his songs at him. He knows Ema feels the same.
“Rest assured, Liebling. I shall give the both of you a private concert once it is done.”
Ema appears satisfied with the promise, forgetting Klavier’s guitar to instead bury her face into Klavier’s chest. She throws her arms around his torso and begins to doze off. Klavier turns to Apollo, lifting one arm as if to invite him to the cuddle session. Apollo sets down the pastries and sidles up to Klavier’s side. One of Apollo’s hands finds its way to Ema’s hands, which are clasped at Klavier’ back.
It is honestly too warm to be huddling up like this, but Apollo revels in it anyway. Compared to his life recently, he experiences a large degree of tranquility lying here with his lovers.
It feels like the three of them are just exactly where they are supposed to be.