Klavier tries to be as normal as possible when he visits Apollo’s apartment for the first time. It’s hard, given how weirdly excited he is. He’s been all but besotted with the tiny defence attorney for over a year now, and it feels like a new step in their relationship. Friendship. Colleague-ship. Whatever.
He isn’t surprised when Apollo texts him an address in a more run-down part of town, nor is he when he pulls up to the apartment block and finds an old brick structure. Solid, but worn. The stairs at least don’t creak under his weight as he ascends. He knocks on the door and Apollo opens it almost immediately. He’s in a t-shirt and jeans, feet bare, smiling up at Klavier in welcome, and the prosecutor spends a solid five seconds unable to communicate in any of the languages he knows. He hides it in a cough, greets Apollo, and enters.
Apollo’s apartment is small but cosy. Neat but lived-in. Apollo leads him into the living room and onto his old, soft, battered couch, facing a small TV with a coffee table in-between, files spread over the surface.
“I don’t have space for a dining table,” he says apologetically, but Klavier shakes his head quickly.
“Nein, it’s no issue.” And it really isn’t. They can look at the same files easily this way, flick through and point out and talk aloud, and it absolutely does not hurt that Apollo is close enough to feel warm beside him. If he turned his head, Klavier would be within breathing distance of his furrowed brow and pursed lips; close enough to press a kiss to his temple and tell him to relax. He doesn’t, of course.
They work well together. They always do. They sink into the case easily, forming theories and connections and shouting in revelation; Klavier unthinkingly grabs Apollo’s hand in excitement at one point, and though he drops it as soon as he realises, he does catch colour creeping into the attorney’s cheeks as he clears his throat.
Three hours pass like that. By the time they stop for a break, they’ve figured out more of the case that Klavier had alone in a week. Apollo is tired but clearly pleased; he stands and cracks his back, letting out a moan that definitely does not go straight to Klavier’s groin. He thinks he manages to keep his expression neutral as Apollo turns to him.
“Do you want some water? Tea? Coffee?” he asks. Klavier shakes his head, but-
“Ah, which door is the bathroom?” He’s pointed to the first on the left.
It’s about as tiny as he would have predicted, given this is a one-bedroom apartment in an old building. There’s just enough space for a toilet, sink, and shower cubicle. He does what he needs to do quickly, washes his hands, and then turns to exit.
Something catches his eye.
The shower door is open, displaying a space perhaps big enough for the five-foot-nothing Apollo, but which would probably challenge Klavier if he tried to use it. It’s not the height of the showerhead that’s got his attention, though, nor is it the small collection of generic-brand toiletries that sit on the floor.
It’s that suctioned to the wall of the shower is a textured black dildo.
Klavier experiences the fascinating sensation of blood rushing at once up to his face and down to his dick.
It’s big. Not massive, like some of the ones Klavier has seen floating around the internet, but a decent size, probably similar to his own. There’s nothing overly fancy about it: it’s black silicone, the impression of the general facets of a penis, including veins, and a suction cup at the base keeping it attached to the wall. It is, Klavier finds himself bizarrely reflecting, exactly the type of dildo he’d assume Apollo would own, had he ever sat down and really thought about the kind of sex toy his adorable rival defence attorney might purchase. Utilitarian but effective. No frills. Just something that does its job well.
Klavier imagines Apollo, wet from the shower and his imagination, pushing himself back against it. Moaning every time it slides deep into his pussy. A hand moving down to rub at his dick, whining out his orgasm as the water pours over him.
He blinks.
He’s in his friend’s bathroom with a throbbing erection.
Well, shit.
He closes his eyes and tries to push away thoughts of Apollo and showers. Think of unsexy things. That time he glanced at Herr Edgeworth’s phone in the break room and accidentally saw a sext from Phoenix Wright. Winston Payne naked. His guitar almost setting him on fire. Acid-wash denim.
Eventually, he succeeds in calming himself down to a manageable semi. He tucks it into his waistband for good measure, washes his hands again for show, and exits.
Apollo is back on the couch, two glasses of water on the coffee table, and a huge, furry lump covering his entire lap and part of his torso.
“I was worried you’d gotten lost,” Apollo grins, and Klavier manages a laugh. “Look who came out of hiding in the meantime.” A head emerges from the lump, all long whiskers and orange spots, and Klavier realises that it’s actually a huge calico cat.
“And what is this beast’s name?” he asks, grateful for the distraction. He sits back down and is immediately engulfed by feline, the creature’s huge paws mercifully missing what’s left of his erection. He runs a hand down its fluffy back and it purrs, rubbing its head against his chin.
“Mikeko,” Apollo says, clearly delighted at his pet’s immediate liking of Klavier.
“He’s adorable,” says Klavier. “But then they say that pets look like their owners, ja?” Normalcy. Easy flirting, make him blush. Don’t let on that you spent the last five minutes thinking about him masturbating in the shower and getting hopelessly turned on.
“Yeah, well, birds of a feather. He’s a huge dipshit.” The flush is back on Apollo’s face, and Jesus Christ, Klavier is so gone on him. “I gotta pee. Mikky, you’re in charge of hosting.”
He’s left blessedly alone for a couple of minutes; more than long enough to finally properly catch his breath.
He’s liked Apollo from pretty much the moment he saw him, all that time ago. From the very beginning he was short and serious and earnest. Any of those things individually would have made Klavier take notice; the three combined were deadly. And as time has gone on, through everything that happened in that first year, and now in the aftermath, Klavier has only found himself falling more and more in love with Apollo Justice. He’s short and serious and earnest, but he’s also smart, and wry, and so, fundamentally, undeniably good. He calls Klavier out on his bullshit and listens patiently when he needs. He’s probably the best friend Klavier’s had in years, and that fact combines extremely guiltily with Klavier’s utter infatuation with him.
Oh, he wants him, too. What Klavier feels isn’t just pure love or adoration. He’s horny, and he can’t stop thinking about Apollo and how he might sound if Klavier touched him in just the right way; kissed him, teased him, played him like one of his beloved guitars. He’s eternally guilt-ridden about how much he wants Apollo, and it was only made worse when, one tipsy evening after a case, Apollo had admitted he’d never been in a relationship or even had a one-night stand. That guilt had increased tenfold when, a few months ago, Apollo had disclosed to Klavier that he was transgender, and that detail began to factor into Klavier’s fantasies. He knows he’s not a chaser, that he was gone on Apollo long before he knew about that aspect of his life, but he certainly feels more than a bit gross imagining how the attorney might feel bouncing in his lap.
He sighs and continues petting the huge creature on his lap, smiling as the purrs increase in volume and the cat curls up on top of his thighs.
“Tell me, Herr Mikeko. What has your owner said about me?”
No answer.
“Very well, keep your secrets.”
His very one-sided conversation is interrupted when the bathroom door bursts open and a red-faced Apollo emerges. He fumbles for a second, turns to Klavier briefly, then somehow goes even redder as he quickly looks away. He swallows and fumbles his hands again.
Ah. He’s had the same realisation as Klavier.
The silence fills the tiny apartment, and oh, god, no, Klavier needs to think of a better phrasing for that; he really can’t be thinking about tiny things being filled right now.
“Mikeko has been a wonderful host in your absence,” Klavier says at last. “He offered to make a five-course meal, but I declined. I am unsure of his culinary tastes, ja?”
Apollo laughs haltingly. The awkwardness broken somewhat, he reclaims his position on the couch next to Klavier, reaching over to stroke the cat.
“D-don’t take the offer,” he advises, face still pink. “He’ll put mice heads in the spaghetti.”
“My instincts have saved me once again.” Apparently slighted, Mikeko jumps off his lap and pads his way into Apollo’s bedroom, squeezing himself under the bed and out of sight.
“What a drama queen,” says Apollo, watching him go.
“I think he and I may have an affinity.”
Apollo smiles up at him, and they look at each other for a moment before Apollo coughs and faces the table. He picks up a file and begins reading again.
Klavier swallows and does the same. He very pointedly does not think about showers.
They work for a little longer, though both of them are obviously distracted. At one point Apollo’s arm brushes against his as they reach for pens at the same time and Klavier nearly jumps out of his skin. He mumbles an apology and shifts aside. He thinks he might give himself an aneurysm with how hard he’s not thinking about Apollo’s body. Apollo looks a little hurt at Klavier’s reaction, though he covers it quickly. Klavier swallows down his guilt and keeps working.
Five minutes later, when it happens again, Apollo makes a frustrated noise and squeezes his eyes shut. Klavier opens his mouth to apologise, to offer some excuse, but before he can Apollo launches into a speech so rapid that it takes Klavier a moment to process it.
“Look, I’m sorry you had to see… that. I should have gotten rid of it before you came over. I’m embarrassed enough about it as it is, so can we please just act like it didn’t happen? Or if you’re grossed out can you just tell me you want to leave?”
Klavier blinks.
“Was?” he asks. “I… why would I be grossed out, Herr Forehead?”
“Oh, come on.” Apollo is red, stubbornly not looking at Klavier. “We both know what you saw.”
“Ja, I am not denying that. But why would I be disgusted?”
“Because it’s-” Apollo’s voice breaks, knuckles going white with how hard he’s gripping the hem of his shirt. He looks ready to break, shaking with anxiety and pure repression. Klavier shifts slightly, scooching just a tiny bit closer to Apollo. He doesn’t touch him, but he can feel the heat of his embarrassment.
“Apollo,” he says, “there is nothing to be ashamed of. It is a perfectly normal thing to own. I have several myself, ja?”
Apollo goes redder at that, but his vice-grip on his shirt seems to relax a little.
“Still. It was inappropriate. You’re a work colleague.”
It stings a little, but Klavier shrugs it off. He knows what Apollo is really saying; knows that the rejection is not directed at him.
“Regardless, I cannot stand to see you upset like this. Whatever you suspect I think about you, I am certain it is an anxious exaggeration. I care about you very much.” At the last sentence, Apollo finally looks up at Klavier. He chews on his lip for a moment.
“I-I care about you too. I just… I really don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”
“I have told you, I feel no discomfort.” He bumps his shoulder against Apollo’s just briefly, and offers a smile. Apollo returns it, a little shakily, before sighing and leading forwards, face in his hands. His voice is slightly muffled when he speaks.
“It’s still so embarrassing.”
“I understand. But you must not assume the worst about my reactions, ja? I know how much you value directness.”
“I know, I know.” Apollo sighs again and sits up. He appears a great deal more relaxed than at the start of the conversation, though he’s clearly still recovering from his mortification.
“Are we on the same page now?” asks Klavier.
“I think so. More than we were, at least.”
Guilt drifts through Klavier’s stomach. For all his talk about directness, he isn’t being entirely honest with Apollo. “Good,” he says. “I think so too.”
A frown flickers across Apollo’s face, at the same moment as his left wrist flinches. For a moment, there’s a hint of red to his irises, and then the relief is gone, expression guarded again as he looks at Klavier.
For the nth time in his life, Klavier curses that goddamn bracelet.
“Ah,” he says.
“Are you-” Apollo begins, and then stops. It’s the same frown that he wears in court when he’s thinking; the one Klavier associates with objections and accusations and breakdowns.
But this isn’t court, and there’s no witness on the stand, no case pulled into pieces for them to slowly reconstruct. It’s just Klavier and Apollo, and the anxious conclusions that are forming plainly in the smaller man’s mind, beckoning him back into his state of humiliation.
Klavier swallows, runs a hand through his hair and flops back against the couch. He takes an extra moment of pause, indulging himself just briefly before he ruins his own life.
“I should have known that your ability would be the end of me, ja?” When Apollo doesn’t say anything, Klavier continues. “I… apologise in advance, Apollo. I feel I have betrayed your trust.”
“What do you mean?”
“I must admit that my response to… my discovery, was not as neutral as I have implied.” He sighs. “I, ah, may have let my imagination get the better of me for a moment.”
It’s a moment before Apollo says, “Oh.”
“Ja.”
He sits, staring at the ceiling and waiting to be kicked out of the apartment. He doesn’t think Apollo will report him for this, but he can’t be certain. Maybe the press will get hold of the fact that Klavier Gavin was fired from prosecuting after he got an erection over his rival defence attorney.
At last he gives in and looks at Apollo. The smaller man is red again, cogs in his head still turning. Only now there’s a glint of… something else, in his eye.
“What do you mean by… ‘imagination,’ exactly?” he asks carefully.
Klavier cards a hand through his hair again. He assumes it’s becoming something of a bird’s nest. “Scenarios involving, ah, you. In the shower.” The hole he’s digging is becoming nice and deep indeed.
Apollo wets his lips. “What did the scenarios… involve?”
Klavier’s mouth drops open. He closes it quickly.
“Apollo,” he says. He’s possibly used the man’s name more in the last five minutes than he has for the entirety of their relationship. “Do you-?” He isn’t sure what he’s asking, but Apollo seems to. He takes a deep breath, seems to steel himself, and then leans up and presses his mouth against Klavier’s.
Apollo kisses like he defends: inexperienced, almost panicked, but eager. Klavier returns it immediately, pressing against him, finally sliding his arms around him and pulling him close. He opens his mouth and presses his tongue against Apollo’s, and the smaller man makes a noise that Klavier thinks he could get high on.
When Klavier pulls away, it only takes one look at Apollo’s flushed face and pink lips before he’s leaning back in, pressing kisses to the smaller man’s cheeks. Apollo giggles quietly and Klavier can’t help his smile. Finally, Klavier sits back and properly regards Apollo, taking his hand and tangling their fingers together.
“We should talk,” he says, partially as a means of self-control. Apollo takes a deep breath and nods, settling next to him, their thighs pressed together.
“I like you,” he tells Klavier, and dear god, such a blunt sentiment should not make Klavier’s heart pound the way it does.
“And I like you. Very much.” He brings their linked hands to his lips and kisses the back of Apollo’s. “I would… very much like to take you on a proper date.”
The resulting blush on his face makes Klavier’s heart soar. “That would be wonderful.”
They grin at each other stupidly for far too long. Klavier can’t resist kissing him again, and again, and then Apollo’s arms are looped around his neck, and he’s pulling Apollo into his lap, and god he finally gets his hands on Apollo’s ass and-
“Wait.” He’s never hated his self-control more than in this moment, but this is important. “We, ah, do not have to do anything you do not want to. Regardless of what-”
“Klavier.” Apollo’s voice is firm. “I’m twenty-three. I can make my own decisions.” And with that settled they’re kissing again, hot and deep. Fingers tug at the buttons to Klavier’s shirt and he helps them with their efforts, pulling his shirt open and moaning as Apollo’s hands slide over his pecs, playing with the piercings running through them. He turns his attention to Apollo’s own shirt and tugs it up and over his head. His thumbs trace over the pink scars that curve under his chest and Apollo presses closer, whining happily at the warmth of Klavier’s skin.
It isn’t long before they’re down to their underwear, Klavier’s hands back on Apollo’s ass, squeezing and groping. Klavier pulls away from his lips, just slightly, pressing their foreheads together, though his hands stay where they are.
“What do you want, Schatz?” He presses a kiss just under Apollo’s eye.
“You,” breathes Apollo. “Whatever… whatever you want.” His breath is a little shaky from their activities, but his words are sure. Klavier hums.
“May I be honest?”
“Always.”
“I… would very much like to know how you use that toy of yours.” He rolls his hips up to punctuate his point. “You must have had plenty of practice by now, ja?” Apollo makes a broken noise and nods against him. This close, Klavier can feel the heat radiating from his face.
It takes some shifting for them to strip completely, their undergarments landing somewhere in the proximity of the coffee table. Once Apollo’s back in his lap Klavier slips a hand between his legs, rubbing gently over his clit. Apollo is incredibly wet by now, and feeling desperate if the way he grinds down onto Klavier’s hand is anything to go by. He moves his hand back, dipping just slightly into Apollo’s pussy, and-
Fuck. Shit. God fucking dammit.
“Schatz.” He withdraws his hand, clenching his jaw. “I- We do not have a condom.” Apollo opens his eyes and pauses, lips pursed. After a moment, he speaks, a little hesitantly.
“I can’t get pregnant. I had my hysto two years ago. And if you- I mean, if you don’t-”
“I had a test last month, and there is no risk since then.” He isn’t fully in control of the words coming out of his own mouth. It’s not just that, he knows it isn’t. It’s a matter of respect, and boundaries. He can’t let Apollo’s first time be-
“We can do it without one.” Apollo’s mouth finds Klavier’s neck and fuck it, he’s gone, he’s not pulling himself out of this one. He strokes his own cock, spreading the precum over the shaft and positioning it just beneath Apollo’s cunt.
“Ready?” he asks. Apollo nods, takes a deep breath and sinks down.
He’s tight - virginal tight, despite the clear evidence that he’s had things in here before. Apollo whines low and long as he takes Klavier completely and Klavier knows he’s making his own embarrassing noises, Apollo’s pussy wet and hot and perfect.
“Gott, Hase, you feel incredible.” He grabs Apollo’s chin with one hand and kisses him deeply. “You going to move? Gonna ride my cock?”
Apollo whines again and nods, lifting himself up slowly before sinking back down a broken moan. He does it again, and again, faster and faster, until he’s bouncing in Klavier’s lap, moaning cutely as his ass jiggles with the movement.
“Fuck, Klav, it feels so good-”
“Is it better than your toy, Hase? Does a real cock in your pussy feel good?”
“Yes! Fuck— god, I need it.”
“S-such a good boy, Apollo. Perhaps I’ll throw out that toy of yours, hmm? Cut you off and leave you all desperate when I want to fuck you?”
Apollo groans, low and needy, into Klavier’s shoulder. His thighs begin to shake under his own weight, his rhythmical bouncing in the other man’s lap falters, and Klavier feels his pussy tighten around him.
“Mean…” he chokes out, half-smothered by Klav’s shoulder. “So mean, Klavier. I let you do this to me a-and this – aah – is how you react.”
Klavier moans, leaning in to kiss and suck at the exposed curve of Apollo’s neck. “You like it, though,” he challenges. “Don’t think I don’t notice.”
Apollo’s knees go weak again when he feels a firm, broad hand smack his ass, the resulting vulgar slap echoing in the tiny room. The moan that wrenches itself from his chest is nothing short of pornographic. His head spins, barely able to register the filth that Klavier whispers in a steady stream to him.
“I’d have never guessed you were so shameless, Hase. You all but begged me to breed your cute pussy raw for the first time. How long have you wanted to sit in my lap and fuck yourself on my cock?”
Apollo’s breath comes in heaving gasps as he stutters, “So, so long. God— fuck— Klavier, I—“
His hands scramble for purchase against Klavier’s arms, the curve of his shoulders, anywhere he can hold tight to as he raises and lowers himself in Klavier’s lap. Klavier, in turn, moves his hands as well; one rests on Apollo’s hip, the other sliding up his torso to feel his chest. It’s not the feeling of bouncing his adorable crush in his lap that makes Klavier moan but the realisation at just how big his hand feels against Apollo’s lithe body. He’s always been aware of how tall he is compared to Apollo, but the difference seems more obvious now when he’s openly feeling up everywhere he can reach like his own life depends on it.
“God, you fuck me so good.” The words pour from Apollo’s mouth without thinking. “Don’t stop, don’t fucking stop, please, please I’m so close—“
Klavier moans, the hand on Apollo’s chest sliding up to lace itself through the hair at the back of his neck. He tightens his grip, tilting Apollo’s head back ever so slightly, and pulls him forward against his own body. The force is enough to bring tears to the corners of Apollo’s dark brown eyes.
“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this, Apollo. No idea how much I’ve thought about bending you over somewhere and breeding you until you cried.” And with that he brings his lips to Apollo’s again, kissing him open-mouthed and filthy while his other hand digs into his hip.
Apollo’s moans rise in pitch with each thrust up into his body, his legs having fully given up on supporting him by this point. It’s all Klavier can do to keep his grip on Apollo’s hip tight so as to keep bouncing him in his lap at the same pace.
“Beg to cum for me, Apollo,” Klavier demands, pressing their foreheads together, their lips inches apart. The hand on Apollo’s hip slides further in, his thumb lingering dangerously close to his pussy.
Apollo whines, eyes screwing shut and forcing tears to run down his cheeks. “Please- please make me cum, Klavi—“
He can’t finish his own sentence when Klavier’s thumb makes contact with his clit, stroking from tip to base and back again at a decadently slow pace. A choked sound wrings itself from his mouth instead and he’s shaking like a leaf the next moment, falling limp against Klavier’s broad torso as his orgasm wrecks him from the inside.
“There we are.” Klavier’s voice is right in his ear now, the grip on Apollo’s hair loosening as the hand comes down to rub his upper back. “Good boy. Oh, fuck, baby, that’s so good. Ride it out for me, Hase.”
The sudden praise makes Apollo relax all the more willingly against him, whining and rolling his hips against Klavier’s as slowly but surely each wave of pleasure fades in intensity. By the end, his face is buried in Klavier’s shoulder again, the sound of their heavy breathing being the one thing between them and absolute silence.
Apollo is the first to fix that. “Um. Did you…?”
“ … “ Klavier shakes his head no. “It’s fine, though,” he insists quickly. For as much as he wants to keep going, wants to keep Apollo warm and wet and needy on his dick for as long as he can, he’s well aware that in this state the other man might want a break now.
“Hm. In that case…” Apollo straightens himself out. Klavier can feel his hands trailing down his chest to rest on his chest, the fingers on one hand toying gently with the piercing through his nipple. He continues in a low whisper, “I might have one more in me, if you’re up for it.”
“Oh?” That familiar heat of arousal stirs in Klavier’s gut again. “That was quick. Have I gotten you addicted after only one round?”
“Shut up before I change my mind.” Apollo’s lips are on his again, his taste and smell and the feel of his small, soft body being all Klavier wants to experience for as long as he lives. Even after being fucked once, the defence attorney still has a surprising amout of energy and enthusiasm to his kisses, and Klavier quickly finds himself overwhelmed by just how cute it is.
“Mmh… Hey, what are you—?“ Apollo’s lazy mumbling against his lips turns to a squeak of indignation as Klavier lifts him up from his lap with both hands, flipping him on his back and pinning him down on the sofa beneath his own weight. His eyes go wide and his mouth falls open in a little ‘o’ as he realises where this is going and god damn it Klavier is so far gone on him already.
“Such a cute expression.” Klavier brings a hand up to lovingly cup Apollo’s cheek. It’s a gesture, he notes, that the smaller man leans into very willingly, almost like he doesn’t notice he’s doing it at all. “You know what I’m about to do to you, right, baby?”
The hand slips back down between Apollo’s legs to feel his pussy, so wet that it’s made a mess of his inner thighs. Klavier suppresses a moan at how easy it is to slip two fingers in him now. Apollo nods frantically, legs splayed apart beneath him and his ankles crossed behind Klavier’s back.
“Please…” he moans, swallowing a mouthful of spit. His arms snake around Klavier’s shoulders, pulling their bodies impossibly closer. “Fucking ruin me.”
Faintly, Klavier wonders how much trouble they’d be in if they ghosted their respective jobs and spent the rest of their week fucking, because he doesn’t know how he’s meant to get anything done for the rest of his life after this.
Apollo’s thighs are soft under his fingers, every bit as pliable as Klavier imagined. Apollo moans as Klavier teases his pussy, gasping when Klavier rubs just the right spot inside him.
“Stop teasing,” he whines, and Klavier is useless to resist that. Maybe there’ll come a time when he’s strong enough to continue past Apollo’s begging, teasing him for hours until he’s a shaking mess, but that day isn’t today. He takes his still rock-hard cock and rubs it against the slit, up against Apollo’s clit, for a moment before sliding back in in one motion. Apollo moans loudly when Klavier immediately starts fucking him again, fingers digging harder to the gorgeous fat of his thighs. The sight before him - Apollo on his back, wrists useless by his head, legs spread and desperate for Klavier - is so hot that Klavier already feels the orgasm building in his abdomen.
“So cute,” Klavier tells him over the clapping of their movements. “Gott, I should have done this long ago, schatz. Could have been doing this all this time, could have had your cute body-” He gasps as Apollo clenches around him.
“Mmm, fuck,” pants Apollo, “Would have let you have me anywhere, Klav. Anywhere you like, just-” his voice falls into another moan.
The mental image of Apollo bending over somewhere, desperately begging to be fucked no matter how risky it may be, makes Klavier groan and unleash a string of German swears into his shoulder. “Had no idea you were such a cute little slut, baby. ‘Anywhere’, you said? How about I bend you over after our next trial and fuck you in front of the whole courtroom? Show the world how much Apollo Justice loves getting bred by his rival attorney?”
Apollo’s thighs tremble against him, his grip on Klavier’s back faltering. “Fuck- yes, please, god I don’t care who sees I just want you to keep fucking me, god damn it.”
Klavier pauses then, ignoring Apollo’s request and subsequent betrayed whine, supporting himself with one hand as he leans down against him for a kiss. The smaller man immediately brings his hands to bury in Klavier’s hair, legs shifting and locking even tighter around his waist. Klavier sucks on his tongue and starts thrusting again into Apollo’s tight heat, hips almost frantic with how good it feels. His other hand feels around blindly for a moment, thumb sweeping across Apollo’s skin until he finds his pussy, once again sliding against his clit and stroking its length indulgently. Apollo mewls into his mouth and Klavier pulls away just slightly, just enough to lean down and whisper into his ear.
“Going to come on my cock again, baby? Greedy boy.”
Apollo makes a broken sound. “Fuck, yes, please, need all of it-” Klavier presses his thumb harder against his clit, rubbing it faster as heat rises in his own body.
“That’s it, baby, you feel so good. Give me one more, angel, cum on my cock a second time. Gonna come in you, ja? Gonna fill up your pussy-”
Apollo all but screams then, coming hard, his pussy tight around Klavier’s cock, and then Klavier’s following him, crumpling on top of Apollo, shaking with the force of it. The feeling of his tight, warm pussy working him through his orgasm makes Klavier’s head spin with how good it is, and he moans several strings of German and English obscenities into Apollo’s shoulder and the couch.
The room falls silent, save for the quiet whooshing of the air conditioner and for the pair’s labored breathing as they try to compose themselves.
Klavier attempts to sit up and pull his softening cock from Apollo’s body, but Apollo stops him with his ankles wrapped around his lower back and an irresistible set of puppy dog eyes.
“Stay?” His voice is a bit hoarse, no doubt from their earlier activities, and, well. Klavier certainly can’t say no to that. With an amused smile, he settles back on top of Apollo and presses a soft kiss right beneath his ear.
“So,” he whispers, “how was that?”
The happy sigh Apollo lets out makes Klavier’s heart flutter like a lovesick teenager’s. “So good, Klavier. God. I don’t think I’ve felt this relaxed in… ages.”
He presses a shy kiss of his own to Klavier’s cheek, playing with the strands of curly blonde hair running down past his shoulders. Holy shit. Klavier didn’t think it was possible to feel more in love than he does now, but here he is. His face feels very warm all of a sudden, and it’s not lost on him how ridiculous it is to be blushing over a tiny peck on the cheek with his entire dick still inside his crush-slash-possibly-new-boyfriend.
Klavier eventually does pull out and quickly finds himself entranced by the sight of Apollo’s pussy, still shiny with his own arousal and dripping a steady stream of white all over the couch. He doesn’t even realise he’s staring until Apollo squeezes his plush thighs together, sitting up on his forearms with reddened cheeks.
“Ah…“ Apollo swallows. “Shit. Uh, could you go grab a towel? They should be under the sink in the bathroom.”
“Certainly.” Klavier gives him a final kiss - this time on the forehead, which earns the most adorable indignant squeak from Apollo he’s ever heard - and gets up. Halfway to the bathroom, he pauses. “Apollo?”
“Hm?” Apollo seems more occupied with trying to gather his clothes from the floor without making any more of a mess than he already has.
“Do you want me to put that dildo away while I’m in there?”
He can’t help cackling at Apollo’s squawk.
Apollo’s towels are scratchy with age, but Klavier endeavours to be as gentle as possible as he cleans him up, carefully wiping his thighs and between his legs. Apollo stays quiet during the entire process, until Klavier rejoins him on the couch and pulls him in close, relishing the feeling of Apollo’s soft body against his. Apollo presses his face into his neck, taking a few more moments’ pause before speaking.
“That was… god, Klav.” The nickname has Klavier’s heart going all over again. He coaxes Apollo’s face out and presses a kiss to his lips.
“Indeed,” he says. He tangles their legs together, dark skin pressing against pale. In another moment he might have thought it was ridiculous how well their bodies fit together, but right now he can’t feel that it’s anything but perfect.
“Time is it?” mumbles Apollo. Klavier hums. He reaches out and slaps the coffee table a few times, unwilling to turn his attention from the man in his arms. After a few attempts his hand lands on his phone.
“Just after four,” he says. “We, ah… We could lay here for a few hours longer, and then I could take you to dinner?”
The smile he receives in answer is all he’s ever wanted.