"Will. You. Stop. Moving!" Klavier complained at around 11pm that night.
"Sorry!" came the embarrassed response from the other side of the bed, "I just can't …get… comfortable!" this was followed by a loud thud! And Apollo falling out of bed, pulling the covers with him.
Klavier clicked on the bedside light, and saw his unlikely bedmate sitting on the floor in a pile of sheets, wearing nothing more than boxer shorts and a sheepish grin. The Prosecutor sighed. He didn't even want to say anything. And he certainly didn't want to think about the mental image that cropped up when he saw Apollo mostly naked sitting there looking up at him.
Apollo climbed back into bed, and soon fell asleep, which left Klavier alone with his…problem. He sighed and stared at the darkness, trying to sleep. But sleep refused to come. He sighed again and rolled over. He seemed to be doing a lot of sighing tonight. Maybe it had something to do with the sleeping defense attorney in the bed with him.
Klavier had nearly fallen asleep when something grabbed him. for a second, he panicked, forgetting where he was and who was sharing his bed. When he remembered who he was in bed with, his panic was no lessened, until he realized that Apollo was still sleeping.
"Herr Forehead!" he grumbled.
Apollo stirred. "Never liked being called that." He mumbled, "'cept by you…don't mind when you say it…"
Instead of letting Klavier go, he pulled him close, snuggling against his chest.
"You make it sound good… like to hear you say it…your voice…" he trailed off again, curling into Klavier.
The Prosecutor simply didn't know what to think of this. Was this the real Apollo showing his true colors, or some kind of dream? He couldn't tell, so he went to sleep.