i. music
Apollo takes to spending time with Klavier outside of cases, and when he does Klavier finds himself scribbling down song ideas without even truly thinking about it. Despite the lack of attention, they're good, though, something odd and old about them, not at all like his usual fare. They're still him, though, enough that despite having broken up the Gavinners he ends up contacting his agent, putting them forward and actually toying with a solo career.
When his first solo album is released, he kisses Apollo on the forehead, grins at the blush and doesn't notice the way Apollo averts his eyes almost guiltily.
ii. art
Klavier catches Apollo doodling in his journal rather than writing and, not expecting any particular quality - Apollo has never struck him as the artistic type - he's surprised to find a detailed sketch of himself, close enough to reality that were it not purely in pencil it would practically look like a photograph. Despite how quickly Apollo covers it with one arm, coughing and trying to hold back a blush, Klavier finds himself oddly touched.
"I never knew you were such an artist, ja?" he laughs, wrapping an arm around Apollo's shoulder and kissing him.
iii. health
"You're being overdramatic," Apollo tells him with a sigh. "It's just a cold, stop acting like you're dying."
Klavier tries to protest that he certainly feels that way, but if he's honest he doesn't, not any more. He maintains that he'd felt awful right up until Apollo had come to him, though, and insists on calling Apollo Nurse Forehead for a whole week before he gets bored of that particular name.
iv. the sun
Klavier watches the sun play off Apollo's skin come morning, runs his fingers over Apollo's chest and watches the way the light moves as he shivers under the touch. Most people look better in the moonlight, Klavier's found, himself included, whether by grace of the darkness removing visible blemishes, or simply that the light happens to play more attractively upon them, but not Apollo. Sunlight suits him, glows off his skin in a way that makes him look almost unnatural. Not in an unattractive way, though - the exact opposite, in fact - and the morning after is Klavier's favorite time because it means he gets to see Apollo in proper light, the way he should be seen.
"You're like a god," he hums in Apollo's ear, and takes the responding shudder as one of pleasure.
v. truth
Apollo whispers it into the silent air of Klavier's room, when the other is asleep. I am Apollo, god of light and the sun, truth and prophecy, medicine, healing, plague, music, poetry and the arts. Repeats it like a mantra, the only thing breaking the silence but not breaking it enough to wake Klavier.
He'd tell Klavier if he could, he promises himself, chokes back the bile that rises because Apollo cannot lie to himself any more than he can tell Klavier what he really is when the other can really hear him.