I will cry tears of joy just to see 'The Etermal Diva' on the shelves of our movie section, but it isn't and I still don't own Professor Layton or anything related, save for this story.

Clive was surprised at how compulsive Dimitri could be at times. He'd been spending the last week filling out papers and leaving and doing god-knows-what, and Clive found why when they walked into the recreation area, right near the telly. In an area separate, there was a piano, and Dimitri looked rather pleased with himself.

There wasn't a piano there a week ago. And then, things clicked in Clive's mind.

He'd bought a fucking piano. For the Prison. On a damned impulse.

Dimitri sat down on the bench, with Clive behind him, open-mouthed in something akin to surprise. "Since I won't be getting out like you will, Clive, I may as well have something to do when Doctor Who isn't gracing the telly screen." He paused for a moment, thoughtfully. "Do you play an instrument, Clive?"

Clive ignored Dimitri's question entirely. This was news- despite the fact that they had life sentences, they could be released on parole for good behavior and paying bail. Both had enough money for it, but that Dimitri didn't plan on trying, that was surprising. Had the prison really broken Dimitri to giving up already?

"What do you mean, you won't be getting out?" Clive hissed, watching as the older of the two started to play, in turn, ignoring Clive's question. What he played sounded rather sinister, despite the tune itself. Rachmaniov's Piano Concerto No.2, Clive realized, as it was a piece he'd hear Dimitri humming sometimes. The rec room was quiet, other inmates staring at the man with a silver ponytail trailing over his shoulder play, the sound loud and clear. When he was done, there was one person clapping, then another, and then a good majority of the room was standing, clapping. Clive could swear he saw Dimitri blush, just a bit, but it was there. After that, someone else wanted to play, so Dimitri simply left and went back to the cell, Clive following behind, demanding answers.

"Dimitri! What in the fucking hell do you mean, you're not getting out! Of course you are, and we'll be out two years from now, on parole, free men!" Clive spoke, his tone somewhere between indignant and downright pissed.

"Unlike you, Clive, I haven't anywhere to go, nor any jobs to go to. My whole field is nonexistent now; I'm useless as a scientist. I haven't got a home to go to, that was all destroyed, nor do I have anyone to take me in. There's nothing left for me out there, Clive. It'd be utterly pointless." Dimitri sounded utterly defeated, taking his seat on the edge of his bed, the younger boy standing a few steps in front of him.

Clive was struck dumb for words. He had destroyed all of Underground London, and the same for the area where Dimitri had lived. Nobody was killed, thank god, but a few people were injured by that fortress. (How he missed that fortress, his beloved fortress.) Grasping for something to say, he couldn't think of anything at all.

"You- you could- you could stay with me!" Clive said, blurting out the first thing that came to mind. He wouldn't mind that at all, having Dimitri with him. "After- After I find a place, I can move in and you can live with me and-"

"And then what, Clive? Go on and live with you like that? I couldn't impose like that, even for a few months, no doubt you've got plans to get some nice girl and start something." Dimitri almost sounded bitter, but it was more irritated than anything else. "It's a stupid plan, Clive, you know that."

Clive had no such plans, not at all. "Dimitri, I don't have any intention of letting you rot in here. Look at what it's done to you! Just listen to yourself!"

Dimitri didn't say anything at all. He didn't say anything for at least five minutes, only looking at Clive, almost bored, not very much amused by what he was suggesting.
"Why in the hell do you care so much about what I'm going to do, Clive?"

Clive looked at the man for maybe a whole two seconds before deciding, action will take better than word would. He wouldn't be able to choke it out, anyway, so why the flying fuck not? He'd be leaving for Layton's house to leave for the weekend tomorrow, anyway.

With five seconds of hesitation, Clive did the only thing he could think of to answer.

He leaned forward in one motion, and with another, took Dimitri's face in his hands and kissed the older man full on the mouth.

A/N: I think I need to be listening to Cobra Starship every time I write for this fic.

Personally, I think this chapter could be better, but it'll do.
Let's see, now we'll have the whole, "Fucking what the hell was that Clive what the hell are you just what. Stop messing with me already dammit."

And aaaaaangst.
I like me some good angst every now and then.
I'll probably get a new chapter up tonight, as I find writing this fic later in the evening is a lot easier.

Well, then. Please drop a review, they're really appreciated! They make me really happy! c: