Apollo hates being treated like a woman. He hated when Klavier decided to deliver flowers to his office, or sent the chocolates along with Trucy, which he gladly allowed her to eat. Klavier had complained that they were a special expensive chocolate imported from Germany, but Apollo didn't care. When Klavier treats him like one of his adoring Fraulein's, Apollo usually tunes him out. He hates the way the German compliments his body, calling it delicate and soft looking, like a womans! And he hates when Klavier spends money on him, buying him clothes, hair products, and, er.. special toys for enhanced pleasure.
So he doesn't understand it when he's looking out the window at the expansive city beneath the airplane that's nearly touching down; a round trip which Klavier paid for. A rough voice comes on the airline speakers, speaking a string of fluent German which Klavier nods to and Apollo catches words like 'eins, ja, and das bad,' but otherwise everything is alien to him.
When they're off the plane, Klavier is ushering him into the awaiting car - Apollo had half-expected it to be a limo. There are dozens of screaming fans outside and they're giving Apollo a headache. He watches houses and jagged streets roll by before they're into the clearing and all he can see is lush fields and greenery, but as quickly as the beauty has come, it is gone, replaced by the sounds of honking cars, tall buildings, and round-abouts on every street.
They pull into a hotel, which Apollo swears is fifty stories tall, and it's already making him dizzy. Their bags are unloaded and Apollo is being guided into the lobby and nudged into the elevator. During this time, neither of the men speak but as soon as doors slide shut and the button for the thirty-fourth floor is lit, Klavier's mouth won't stop moving.
"Mein Gott! That plane ride was so long, ja? It seems to get longer every time." AndApollo is drowning him out, aware of the uncomfortable feeling in his gut and the tight constricting in his throat. He thinks maybe the airplane food didn't settle well, and the elevator ride isn't helping. They step out onto the floor and Apollo nearly collapses, Klavier having to save him from hitting the floor, hard.
"Herr Forehead?" Apollo can sense he's being guided into the room, but he can't stop the throbbing at his temples, clouding his mind. He sinks down into the lush couch in the large room and puts his face in his hands. He wants to throw up, but he's afraid to taste the same food he had to swallow once before on the plane.
When he lifts his head, his mind still hasn't cleared but Klavier has his grip on his arm and he's being pulled up and ushered into the bathroom. Apollo is grateful for once, until he catches a glance of the flickers on the walls. There are candles lit around a large clawed bathtub filled with bubbles.
But Apollo doesn't complain, which he blames on his illness. He's vaguely aware of the rough, calloused hands running over his body, removing his vest, and then his shirt. He's being guided into the water and Apollo's whole body relaxes.
"I hope the water is not too hott herr Forehead." Klavier says as he balances on the edge of the counter. Apollo wants to tell him to leave, but he figures the man won't be able to see anything under all the bubbles anyways - and he is just too tired to care.
When Apollo awakes a few hours later, thanks to a loud crash somewhere in the hotel room, he's laying in a large circular bed, covered in some sort of faux-fur - at least he hopes it's fake. As he walks out into the living room, the smell of something rich and fattening wafts through the room. Klavier lifts his head from stirring some pot on the stove and gives Apollo one of his famous smiles. It doesn't melt Apollo like Klavier always thinks it does - mainly because he shares it with all of Klavier's adoring fans. His favourite smile of Klavier's is the genuine one he receives after they've just had sex. It's warm, and glows, and feels sincere to Apollo.
"Ah, did I wake up?" He sounds apologetic and Apollo shakes his head, taking a seat at the table while he does so. The table is covered in an arrangement of dark colored dishes, each looking more 'German' than the previous one he lays his eyes on. His eyes settle on a dish that resembles mushy dog food and he makes a mental note not to try that one.
Apollo wonders how he got here - how he was convinced to come to Germany, travel with the Gavinners for a week. He sighs and Klavier wipes his hands and joins Apollo at the table. He begins to load his plate and starts on Apollo's when he notices the look on his face.
"Mein Fore- Apollo, I could get you a cheeseburger." Although Apollo is touched by the offer, he shakes his head and picks up his fork. He shuffles the food around, which is starting to look appealing now that his stomach is rumbling, but his mind is too busy to focus on eating.
"The food's fine. I wasn't - Why am I here?" Apollo asks. He's a million miles from home, in a strange country, where the only words he knows are 'ja, mein gott, and fraulein,' all thanks to Klavier.
The cosy place they're staying at is different from Klavier's place back home in the city. While still high fashioned, the German hotel has an urban, dated feel to it. The carpets are too rough under his feet, and he's constantly getting confused by the weird structural design.
"To watch us play, of course," Klavier replies, not understanding a rhetorical question. And while his answer is mostly true, Apollo had also hoped to see a bit of Germany. The previous city they had been in though, Klavier was too busy with interviews and promos, or creating new songs with Daryan. Apollo often hung in the back, reading books about the lavish escapes of Germany.
"I mean," Apollo starts, "why didn't Mr. Wright beg me not to go?" The questions hits Klavier oddly and he frowns. "Are they really better off without me? Can they handle everything without me?" Klavier smiles.
"Apollo, Herr Wright and Fraulein Trucy notice how hard you work. You never take any holidays - even working straight through them. You needed this. Time away. Time with me."
Apollo knows he's right. It wasn't often he found time away with Klavier alone. There were always cases to see in court, or guitars to retune. As much as he hated to admit, he misses Klavier's fingers running through his hair, mussing it up.
Klavier breaks Apollo's thoughts. "Do you remember how I asked you out?" Apollo can't forget. Klavier was never one for subtleties and he had burst into the Wright Anything Agency, demanding Apollo go out for coffee with him. Embarrassed, Apollo had expected Mr. Wright to inform Apollo that such out bursts were not permitted in his offices, but instead Trucy giggled and Phoenix smiled as he informed them they'd give them more privacy.
In the end, he said yes. It was just coffee right? Just a simple date, right? Wrong.
Apollo had found himself pressed tightly against the floor to ceiling window in Klavier's seventeenth story apartment, his ass pressed tightly to the glass for the whole city to see. He clung to Klavier, his legs wrapped tightly around Klavier's hips, his arms around his neck, fingers tangled in the blond hair that had come undone from its ceremonious side swept coil.
But Klavier was making such orgasmic sounds, soft grunts and select moans as Apollo dug his fingernails into his back. Klavier had often protested, but an animalistic nature had taken hold of them both and neither could be bothered with being careful. Apollo knew though, that Klavier would have something to say in the morning.
But right now he's being thrust into, Klavier's dick disappearing into him at a quick speed, sending Apollo over the edge, his head tilted back against the glass. It's not the most comfortable place they've ever fucked, but it's one of the hottest. Apollo has never been so bare for the world - not even when he's in court arguing his cases; he always checks himself at the door.
But here, in the quiet of Klavier's home, Apollo has let go of his pride, has allowed this man before him to enter him, over and over. Sweat trickles down both their foreheads and Klavier is moaning louder - it's Apollo's cue that Klavir is close, but Apollo doesn't want it to stop. He bites his tongue, still too embarrassed to really make any noises, but then Klavier shifts and he's hitting that sweet spot inside of Apollo, and he loses it.
He's moaning louder now; they spill messily from his mouth and are meshed with Klavier's name. Klavier's grip tightens on him and he's murmuring, huskily, in German against Apollo's burning skin.
"Klavier!"
"Hm?" Klavier says, lifting his head from the food. Apollo blinks and begins to blush furiously.
"Nothing, I mean yes, I do remember." He pushes food into mouth part to quench his hunger and part to avoid talking. There is a knowing smirk on Klavier's lips.