(he thinks maybe that’s the end of it, that klavier caved and finally decided to go first, even if the sigh gave apollo the impression that he’s being… difficult again. he’s about to apologize for just that, being stubborn and difficult and all the things he knows he shouldn’t be.
until klavier gives him a gentle shove into the bathroom, and it catches him so off guard, he almost trips over his own two feet as he clumsily stumbles into the bathroom and has to catch himself on the sink so as not to make even more of a fool of himself.
he’s this close to retorting, saying something about how you don’t just shove people into bathrooms like that. but a simple snap of his fingers, just how klavier does in the courtroom, and apollo is silenced into listening to his proposal. and thinking on it, apollo is well aware that it’s not a bad idea. it’s actually far more convenient, and it’ll save a little water.
apollo isn’t even going to pretend the idea of seeing klavier in the shower isn’t something he’d die to see.
he sets his items on the bathroom counter, rubbing the back of his neck, his own nervous tic when he’s not entirely sure of something. glancing between the bathroom and klavier, almost shy, before eventually clearing his throat to answer.) Are you sure? I mean, I don’t want you to feel like you have to do this. I don’t want to intrude or anything.
no subject
until klavier gives him a gentle shove into the bathroom, and it catches him so off guard, he almost trips over his own two feet as he clumsily stumbles into the bathroom and has to catch himself on the sink so as not to make even more of a fool of himself.
he’s this close to retorting, saying something about how you don’t just shove people into bathrooms like that. but a simple snap of his fingers, just how klavier does in the courtroom, and apollo is silenced into listening to his proposal. and thinking on it, apollo is well aware that it’s not a bad idea. it’s actually far more convenient, and it’ll save a little water.
apollo isn’t even going to pretend the idea of seeing klavier in the shower isn’t something he’d die to see.
he sets his items on the bathroom counter, rubbing the back of his neck, his own nervous tic when he’s not entirely sure of something. glancing between the bathroom and klavier, almost shy, before eventually clearing his throat to answer.) Are you sure? I mean, I don’t want you to feel like you have to do this. I don’t want to intrude or anything.