I have been waiting to write this chapter since I don't even know. Hopefully you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it. :D
Klavier was a pretty good boyfriend.
Even Apollo—stubborn as he was—had to admit it.
Maybe it was the rock star tag and all the glitter that came with Klavier's image, but Apollo had resented him a bit in the beginning for having a natural sense of charm and the ability to somehow pull off the most ridiculously contrived lines—it was only now, after he had bothered actually getting closer to him, that Apollo realized that Klavier had the rare and truly special characteristic of really, genuinely meaning all the sweet and suave things he said.
Today, however, was different.
On this particular morning, Apollo got to see a side of Klavier that he'd only once before glimpsed at, proving that if he wanted, the rock star could be just as stubborn as Apollo was.
"Klavier, it was just a dream. It didn't mean anything. You don't have to do this."
Apollo watched helplessly as Klavier continued rummaging through his bathroom drawers, a slight frown of determination set upon his expression, "That's where you're wrong."
The defense attorney made a small noise of disapproval, feeling a bit put out. He was currently toeing the threshold of the bathroom, caught awkwardly between wanting to march in and directly stop Klavier, and feeling like he was obligated as a guest to not step foot in the bathroom while his host was occupying it.
When Klavier let out an exclamation of recognition and pulled out what seemed to be an ordinary looking pair of styling scissors, Apollo impulsively stepped forward and snatched them from his fingers.
"You can't!" he said, clutching them close to his chest.
Klavier gave him a very serious look, "Apollo…"
"I didn't mean to call you Mr. Gavin last night," there was a spot of desperation in Apollo's voice, "I was hysterical! I wasn't thinking straight!"
Klavier forced out a breath, rubbed at the back of his neck, but his voice was softer nonetheless, "Mein Forehead…"
"It was an accident, I swear," Apollo gripped the scissors tighter, "Right now, I only see you, okay? I don't see your brother, at all."
Klavier chuckled, just gave a sad, small smile and looked off to the side, "Then I wish I could see what you see."
And then there was a moment of silence, where Apollo nervously fidgeted with the scissors. He hesitated, wondering if maybe he should say something profound in response to this.
He slowly unfurled his arms from his chest, presented the scissors with both hands, "…don't do this for me."
Klavier encapsulated Apollo's hands within his own, "I promise I'm not doing it for you."
Apollo merely nodded in reply, tried hard to not let his relief show too much.
Klavier released his hands, ruffled Apollo's hair a little (to which the other grimaced a bit at), then said, "Stay right there. I'll be right back."
Then he turned around and unceremoniously left the bathroom.
Apollo stood blinking in the middle of the room, fingers still curled around the scissors, "…hah?"
(Well, um…wait, what?)
Before he had a chance to question it any further, Klavier was back, carrying a simple wooden chair. This he placed resolutely on the floor before making himself comfortable in it.
"You're going to cut it."
The reaction was immediate, "What?"
Apollo instantly recoiled when his voice bounced off the bathroom tiles, (Am I really that loud?)
Klavier crossed his arms and leaned back, "I'm serious, Justice."
"B-but…I'm a lawyer," he offered feebly.
"I never said you weren't."
"…I'm definitely not a hair dresser."
"You don't have to be—just a couple of snips. It'll be easy."
When Apollo let out a hesitant whine, Klavier touched the tips of his fingers to the defense attorney's arm, "Please. It has to be you."
Apollo bit his lip. Well, what was he supposed to say to that? Klavier was giving him a pleading look that was getting harder by the second to ignore.
"…if it comes out uneven, you can't blame me."
Klavier thoughtfully sat up straight and swept his hair back, off his shoulders, "I trust you completely."
At this, Apollo nervously shuffled over to the sink and grabbed a fine-toothed comb, wetting it under the faucet before taking his place behind Klavier. He ran his fingers through the section of hair above Klavier's ear, sweeping it back before combing it. Klavier's shoulders visibly slackened in reaction, which Apollo took special note of. Experimentally, he started at the very edge of the prosecutor's hairline, taking care to lightly skim the teeth of the comb across his scalp in what he hoped was a soothing way. When Klavier took in a slow, relaxed breath, let out a barely audible sigh, and leaned into Apollo's hands, he figured he had succeeded.
(Mental note: Klavier likes having his hair brushed.)
It was something so small, so minute in detail, and yet he found himself filing it away for future reference. Maybe it was due in part to last night's events, but he was feeling particularly grateful for Klavier's…well, just Klavier in general.
Why was Apollo just now really noticing how thoughtful he was? The defense attorney teased drops of water into his hair, making sure it distributed evenly as he considered the way his boundaries were always being minded, how every glance and gesture held meaning, even the way Klavier subtly helped him in court, slipped him hints and nudges in the right direction amidst all the teasing.
(…I'm really lucky, aren't I?)
Apollo gently pulled through a knot, wondering if maybe he should work a little harder at this relationship stuff.
Klavier let out a soft laugh, "You're blushing, Mein Forehead."
Apollo jumped a bit at this, glad he wasn't holding the scissors yet.
He blurted out, "You don't know that! You're facing the other way!"
Klavier just laughed again and gestured in front of him. Apollo glanced up and was startled to see his own, embarrassed expression staring back at him from the bathroom mirror. And, yup, that was clearly a bit of color spreading itself across his cheeks. Damn.
He ducked his head back down and tried to concentrate on the task in front of him, but it was hard not to ignore the image of Klavier smirking in the mirror.
"You're too cute, Justice. I could just eat you up."
"…and I was just thinking nice things about you, too."
"Ah! So that's what it was!"
Apollo stubbornly yanked the comb through a section of hair.
"Ach! Alright, alright, I'm sorry!"
He returned to thoughtful brushes, careful to guard his expression, to not satisfy Klavier with a reply, but inwardly he thought, (This isn't so bad).
He had woken up this morning worried that things might be a bit uncomfortable, but this…playful banter and light teasing, no awkward or overly drawn, cliché conversations…yeah, this was nice.
Apollo placed the comb back on the counter, satisfied that Klavier's hair was wet enough, and picked up the scissors once again. He cautiously sectioned off some of the prosecutor's hair and slid it between the two blades.
"Last chance to change your mind," he said before actually doing anything permanent.
Klavier said simply, "I've made up my mind."
Apollo took a deep breath, apprehensive, "O-okay."
Truth be told, on some level he felt that cutting Klavier's hair was a bit of a shame—it was so nice and fine, it was almost a waste to cut it all off. Had he grown attached to its current state? It was something that he hadn't even been aware of until this very moment.
Apollo exhaled forcefully and pressed the scissors closed, all at once. The sharp sound of the blades sliding against each other was quick, so final sounding, it was almost a relief.
There. That was it. No way to undo it now.
He took the next section of hair and pulled it taught, felt the tension give way as he made the next cut. It was almost mesmerizing watching the scissors glide through each clip.
He worked his way through, section by section, quietly, as an amiable sort of silence wrapped itself around the atmosphere. Apollo wondered briefly if he should make conversation, but something told him that Klavier preferred it this way. This silent exchange felt somehow comforting, felt strangely intimate, just the sounds of metal on metal and the feather-light contact of hair hitting the floor.
Before long, there was a golden pile of hair strewn around their feet and what had been left intact now stopped at about an inch above Klavier's shoulders. Apollo picked up a brush and began combing out the remaining water.
"Is this okay? You didn't want it shorter, or…?"
Klavier smiled contently, eyes closed, enjoying the feeling of someone once again brushing his hair, "Mmm. It's good."
"It's not too short, is it?"
He shrugged, "I've had it shorter. This is manageable."
"Manageable?"
Without getting out of the chair, Klavier reached for one of the counter drawers and fished out a simple, black hair tie, "The last time it was this length I mostly just kept it pulled back—it looked best that way."
Apollo took the tie, thinking, (Well, at least I don't have to work the curling iron), and smoothed Klavier's hair back before manipulating it into a very short ponytail. The strands that were too short slipped out immediately, leaving a nice frame around the immediate sides of his face. Apollo circled to the front of the chair, fussing a bit over Klavier's bangs, brushing some of the loose strands behind his ears. Apollo had to admit that the prosecutor had been right about this looking nice—it really played well with his European features.
As he pushed back the last bits of hair from Klavier's eyes his hands lingered a bit, the tips of his fingers ghosting shyly against skin. He took in the sight of Klavier, glancing briefly at the overall work he'd done before focusing in on what was really appealing to him. It didn't take long for the edges of his vision to soften and center on Klavier's mouth, pulled into an easy grin.
Klavier looked at him, smile growing wider, fonder, "And now? What're you thinking about this time?"
Apollo didn't even bother feeling embarrassed about the color in his face—he wasn't going to feel sorry for having honest expressions. His response was to lower his hands onto Klavier's shoulders and lean in before giving him a light kiss. It was chaste, but it wasn't shy either—it was honest, with a hint of promise.
It had always struck Apollo how eloquent Klavier could be without uttering a single word. He could somehow speak volumes with just a touch or a glance. Apollo pressed a bit more into the kiss, hoping to convey everything he felt too awkward to say—a sense of gratitude and affection that he felt was long overdue.
And that, for the first time, he fully believed that this could all work out in the long run.