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(being an underdog involves still being liked by people, along with having the skill and opportunity to get another chance. apollo doesn't find himself under any of those categories.
but somehow, saying out loud just how terrified he is to skate, how it's been a challenge to get on the ice and find any sort of enjoyment in his practices, it makes his heart ache and weep. almost enough that he feels himself about to start tearing up. he blinks furiously, silently demanding those tears never fall, not in front of someone like klavier.
the inquiry catches his attention, glancing at klavier still with a hint of caution in his eyes. he reflexively tenses up, curling back just an inch, but not enough for their hands to separate.
part of him doesn't really want them to.) What? Why?
[He doesn't let go, fingers securely looped around his wrist, only giving slightly when Apollo flinches back. His answer, however, is much simpler than what can be expected. There's nothing threatening about his smile, unlike a certain someone who shared his face, and his voice weaves a tapestry of silk through the air as he steps forward, no longer pulling him towards the ice.]
I want to spend time with you, is all.
[Is this an outing or a date, one may never know.]
When I'm not sure about something on the rink, I find the answer when I'm off.
(it's agony listening to that voice, how much effort it puts into being gentle and welcoming. how gentle klavier himself is, never forcing, only attempting to guide apollo to where he thinks is best. there's no hated orders being spat in his direction, no cold snide to just get over it. he wants to trust that voice, that man, more than anything, just let himself be taken in and cared for in a way klavier understands.
but he also understands that the last two times he trusted someone with a kind smile and sweet words, his life was turned upside down and left him with little more than nothing. no coach. no career. no chances.
even despite those words, of simply wanting to be with him, can he trust those? his eyes shoot up, wide and taken aback, as if that was the last thing he expected to hear.) You what?
(juts spend time with him? a complete stranger? any understanding apollo sensed is gone and replaced with nothing but confusion. but that dark little part of him that still sees the distrust in people, the part that always tries to keep a distance, that makes him tug his arm away (despite missing the touch), and glare at klavier.
but not nastily. no, more cautious and miffed than angered.) What, and you always ask out complete strangers who just happen to be broken skaters?
[All of which are familiar. Klavier trusted those words too, taking them until his brain broke under the pressure of his own brother's scolding and ridiculing. He'd almost given up skating, thinking about getting as far away from him as he possibly could. But his heart belonged on the ice, and if Apollo's gestures and voice (not his words, but his voice) were anything to go by, his did too.
A smile, humble and apologetic, spreads across his face as his hand draws back. Some vitriol was expected, he guesses.]
You're right. I'm being incredibly rude.
I'm Klavier Gavin--[Although a part of him is positive this man knows exactly who he is. He had an uncanny resemblance to someone...less than favourable.]--and you are...
[His hand, the one that had fingers looped around his wrist only moments before, extends out in gesture.]
(apollo swears his heart must have stopped the moment he saw klavier smile like that. how a face so like the devil's could exude nothing but kindness and genuine sympathy, he's not sure he'll ever understand.
everything klavier is makes it harder and harder for apollo to see any resemblance between the brothers aside from their looks. and if apollo was being honest... klavier was easily the more gorgeous of the two. that smile and that attitude, the openness and honesty he speaks with makes only one thought run through apollo's mind.
fuck, i'm gay.
his wrist grows cold with the absence of klavier's hand around it, leaving apollo almost wishing it would go back. but he snaps out of that daze quickly, hesitantly reaching his hand over to link with klavier's in a shake.) I'm... Apollo Justice.
(swear to god, if this guy makes an ice pun, i don't care how pretty he is, i'll punch him.)
Apollo Justice. [He practically sounds it out with his accent, letting it flow past his lips like water as he commits it to memory. He can just hear the announcer shouting that from the commentator's box, and it was perfect for a figure skater. His name alone gave him an image.
No ice pun, he's not exactly looking like a lawyer's assistant. But he will smile a bit at how...epic Apollo's name seemed to be. Then again, his parents weren't any better in the 'ridiculous' department.]
Well, then, Apollo Justice, now that we've exchanged names...that makes us acquaintances, ja? And spending time to get to know an acquaintance is what naturally comes after, isn't it?
[It's a little assertive of him, but there's something about this boy he can't quite shake just yet.]
(he's never heard just his name sound so gorgeous before, his heart nearly leaping into his throat as he hears his name resonate like a chorus. while klavier was thinking of an announcer shouting his name, apollo can only imagine klavier saying it over and over again, and god, he fell this hard after just meeting him.
but klavier is speaking to him, asking questions, and it would probably do apollo some good to snap out of his gaydream and listen. and... that part of him that can't trust anyone, not after all the lies and betrayal he's been through, that part of him gets defensive. he tenses up, just barely, hands on his bags tightening, staring at klavier with cautious and hesitant eyes.) Why are you so insistent on this? You don't even know if the feeling is mutual.
(... wait. he pauses, thinking over his words as they replay in his mind. that. definitely didn't come out right. a light pink blush washes over his cheeks, a bit of his walls coming down to be replaced with something more... embarrassed. frantic.) N-Not like that, I didn't mean it like that! I just meant I might not want to go on a date!
(shit. klavier never said it was a date. why did he say it was a date? IT WASN'T A DATE???? WAS IT????? HE DOESN'T KNOW. his blush only deepens, going from pink to red in moments, quickly losing his composure as he struggles to find the right words.) And it's not a date! This isn't a date, it's... it's just a meeting! Between acquaintances! That I might not want to go on!
(klavier please stop him before this boy stops breathing.)
[Klavier Gavin liked to think he was smooth. It's a bit ego-driven of him, one of his few faults if he had to choose one for himself, but he liked to go out with the reasoning that he's simply confident. And as such, he'd thought that line delivery was just spot on. A hitch in the road remedied and now with the real goal: to get Apollo to join him tomorrow for some time away from the lonely rink.
KLAVIER liked to think he was smooth. But APOLLO JUSTICE on the other hand...
Well, his eyes shoot wide open at the boy's outburst, a deer in the headlights as words came at him at a volume he would not have expected to come out of such a short statured man.
But it was there--right there, in that moment where Apollo had realized he'd blurted out too much of his internal monologue that Klavier's eyes practically lit up like the sun filled sky, each word Apollo tries to remedy making the man sink more and more into the pool of charmed. His smile doesn't deviate for a second the moment it appears on his lips, and actually, he's not even sure when that got there. The way it's splitting his face, he's absolutely enamoured by his struggle to find the correct words for this situation.]
A meet up between acquaintances, that's right.
[A date.]
Well, do you want to go with me?
[Klavier, a man who's had many dates with many men and women...felt his heart stop for just a moment, waiting for Apollo's answer.]
(apollo is glad, in certain cases, for what might be described as his "prickly personality". it means he doesn't always fall heads over heels for whoever or whatever, he as the sense to turn away from all that and continue his life without any issue. well. most of the time.
so it's here again, when apollo sees that smile on klavier's face, and he's sure any fan of the angel on ice would've screamed at a sight like that, a smile meant just for them. it should've been a dream come true.
apollo just saw it as another part of a nightmare. he's been here, working his ass off just for a little recognition for himself. he blunders once, and something about that smile just... stabs at apollo's heart, and not in the way one would think it might. he only sees someone mocking him again, focusing only on his mistakes and how oh so funny they must be to other people.
he straightens up, face firm and... maybe just a touch of pain in his eyes. he can't say he expected it from someone like klavier.) No. You haven't told me anything, where we'd go or do, or even why you're doing this. I don't know your reasons or motives or plans for any of this, and I'm not one of your screaming fans who'd do whatever you want at the drop of a hat.
(he pauses, just for a moment, that sinking feeling in his heart that he went too far. said too much, was a little too honest. his voice softens, expression going into something sadder, but only for the briefest of moments.) You... understand. And I'm grateful for that. But I'm done being dragged around by people on a whim for their own needs.
[His smile almost falters at that, and had he not already assessed Apollo's situation, he would have left it at that. He remembers how guarded he felt too, when he'd left Kristoph's teachings and was approached by Miles Edgeworth. A man with no soft edges or warmth to his voice, but a caring heart that was hidden beneath a rough exterior. He remembers being abrasive against him, rejecting any and all advances to be taken under the wing of another coach.
"You have something inside you that wants to get out and fly. I can help you." He'd said. And he'd shrugged it off.
Not that it did much. He ended up crawling back to the man before long.
The resistence from Apollo wasn't nearly so different, was it? And just like Miles Edgeworth had shown him, persistence and honesty would pay off. With his heart beating against his ribcage, he brushes a few fingers through his bangs, thinking it over.]
There's a rink on the other side of town I want to take you to. My motive? I just want to get your mind off of things. As for a screaming fan, even they get to decide yes or no, just like you.
[It hurt a little, but you learn to steel yourself when it comes to your public persona. If he hadn't, he'd have never survived on social media or any public outlet. There's countless Youtube comments of 'that fop' or questions about his sexuality. Which are true, but they have no right to make the assumption!]
I won't drag you, not anymore. But if you want me to take a lie detector test I'm sure we can arrange that to prove my motives are pure.
[He's joking, of course. Who has a lie detector up their sleeve?]
(in the short time he spent under phoenix wright's tutelage, he'd learned about his bracelet. about what it could do, how he could see so well. once he left, however, he didn't have anyone to teach him to hone it after that.
but he could always tell, somehow, when someone was lying or being dishonest to him. apollo had seen it time and time again as he approached different coaches for help, their hesitance to take him under their wing, their uncertainty on being able to trust him. he still chastises himself for not picking up on it sooner, instead trusting blindly and following orders believing he was doing the right thing.
here and now, though, it's different. it's almost instinctual, the way he reaches over to rub the skin under his bracelet, almost hoping there would be the familiar clench reacting to another person's anxiety.
his eyes grow wide, something vulnerable and bear underneath him, as if searching klavier for something. he was nervous, no doubt, apollo was just barely able to see it, but it wasn't because of the words. his hand grips around his wrist with the bracelet, pulling it up to his chest and apollo has to look away this time, so unused to seeing people so honest and genuine to him.) No, I... I believe you.
(almost without realizing, his eyes are misting over, just starting to form tears, leaving him to hurriedly blink them away. he doesn't need to be that vulnerable to klavier.) S-Sorry. I'm not... used to this.
[Klavier noticed the tears, but kept his expression as level and calm as he watched him. There's no notice of them on his face, and it's probably for the best. When you're feeling exposed and vulnerable, someone pointing out said weak spots is the last thing you need. It causes you to lash out like a scared animal, which might explain why Apollo had been so hostile in the first place. In the end, you had to protect yourself, and Klavier had been that way once.
Not to sound like a broken record, but he knows. He truly knows.]
Then can I have the honour of being your first act of human decency?
A meeting of acquaintances tomorrow at the ice rink downtown. No strings attached, and if you decide to not come, I'll understand. We can talk about everything or nothing.
But I hope you'll come. It's more fun to skate with someone in a public rink, ja?
(it's painful, almost, despite being something so warm and needed for apollo. the open displays of honesty, the courtesy to give him space, to treat him like a human being, not a broken one, but a skater who just needs this. a kindred soul, one who's been through the same sufferings, one who broke out of them, and genuinely from the bottom of his heart wants to do nothing but help.
apollo wishes he could hold back, keep at least a little bit of composure in front of klavier gavin of all people, but seeing someone care so deeply and openly, and there's nothing he can do to stop the slow stream of tears down his cheeks.
he truly deserves his nickname "angel on the ice". apollo is sure there's no human being on earth closer to one.) I-I'll come.
(he's scrubbing away viciously at his tears, nodding through them and giving klavier nothing but confirmation that this is what he wants more than anything.) I'd like to. A lot. I'll be there.
[In Klavier's eyes, that's all Apollo ever was. There's nothing to fix about a skater who'd just fallen down, is there? There's nothing wrong with a skater with plenty of potential and left in the dark. All you have to do is turn on the light.
Apollo's answer is soft, but it's enough to ease up Klavier's face even more than before, his smile practically sparkling and his eyes as bright as the sky. There's a reach for his bag, one he'd deposited when he'd arrived here, to pull out a tissue. Mostly for wiping his makeup off or in case his allergies started acting up again, but Apollo needed it far more than he did right now.
He extends it without hesitation, a silent offer to even help dab those eyes dry.]
It'll be fun, ja?
[That smile's nothing but genuine, moving to dab a spot his hands had missed.] A warning, it won't be my best performance. We'll mostly be skating in circles.
(to have this happen, to have klavier gavin actually treat him like he's a worthwhile skater and someone who deserves a chance, it gives apollo that small glimmer of hope. that honesty shooting straight to his heart, and for right now, he doesn't care if he's fallen for klavier or not.
he's just glad someone cares.
he tries to force down his sniffles and sobs, but it only makes them come out more hiccuped and pained than he actually feels. this is one of his lesser moments, easily, breaking down in front of a legendary skater just extending a kind hand. a hand that now has a tissue in it, and before apollo can even extend his own hand to take it, he suddenly finds it gently wiping away his tears. the only thing he can do in a situation like this is gaze, into what's easily been the kindest and sweetest face he's met with in weeks.
his breathing softens, almost completely stopping as calm, blue eyes look at him like he's all the world right now, and he finally snaps out of his daze, bright red-faced and blinking as he tries to divert his attention anywhere than the face he just spent five minutes staring at.) Y-Yeah right, even on your worst day, you could still win a gold, I'd watch you skate no matter what.
[Klavier is very, very lucky he was blessed with a naturally dark skin tone--it hid any and all visible forms of blush aside from the warmth rising to his cheeks and ears. He has no idea how Apollo could cause him to go into a stir like that from such an innocently spoken line like that...but perhaps it was BECAUSE it was so innocently said that it got Klavier's mind buzzing like a hive of bees.
Of course, Klavier's not blind to Apollo's own flushed cheeks, and it's a little relieving to know that the boy is just as flustered by his attempts at flirting as he is at the...'accidental' ones Apollo gave. He makes no notice of it though, and if asked, he'd say it was just from the fact Apollo had been crying.
Deep down, though, he truly hoped it wasn't the latter in the slightest.]
You flatter me~ [His voice trails off melodically, running that tissue just underneath his eye to get the residue of the tears already shed.]
As hard as it might be to believe, I have fallen once or twice in the public rink.
Don't tell the fans that, though. That's just between us.
(while klavier lucked out in the complexion department, apollo's far fairer skin tone does nothing but show how bright his blush really is. part from how elated he was to have klavier... maybe flirt back? he's not sure, and god he wishes if he knew that smile was just for him. but most of his blush is from embarrassment, speaking so boldly and openly to a man he met literally minutes ago.
and though he tries to avert his eyes, look anywhere but klavier in fear of teasing remarks, he just... can't. not with him looking so intently at him as he wipes the remains of the tears away, and by this point, apollo believes with no question that klavier must be at least a little freaked out by him, unless he treats him like a fan. and if this is how klavier treats his fans...
he's never been good at this. trying to guess people's intentions, pick out who's flirting and who's just being nice out of courtesy. this hardly seemed like the sort of action a person would do to just anyone. yet at the same time, apollo knows klavier has always given off a much friendlier vibe.
god, he wishes this was easy.
he finally manages to tear his gaze away, still red faced, but with a flatter look on his face as he gets some of his fight back in him.) Oh wow, two whole times, it must be so hard being you.
[He had to say, that reaction wasn't quite what he expected out of Apollo. Maybe it's because his first impression of him had been such a skittish, guarded, and self-preserving individual. He didn't blame Apollo in the slightest for any of these, but it certainly didn't do him any favours for thinking anything else lie underneath that shell.
Especially not sarcasm.
His eyes widen briefly for one moment, blinking owlishly at Apollo's words as they process in his brain. What to most people would be an insult is...hilarious to Klavier, his hand reaching up to flick at his bangs once more as something erupts out of his mouth. Not a yell, not a complaint, but...laughter.
He's laughing.]
Look!
[There's nothing that comes after that except more laughter. Daryan often poked fun at him just like this...but it was never with this sort of vibe. His had more bite to it, more...sting, maybe. But Apollo's had a somewhat light, if deadpan tone to it.]
(oh. oh that was unexpected. that laughter, so free and open with how it seems to shake klavier's very frame and spread like waves through his body. apollo is captivated by the sight, bright flush finding its place with renewed vigor. you'd think he'd have been skating for hours with how he looks, breathless and gazing and red faced.
but no, instead it's only just hit him how hard he's fallen for a man he met half an hour ago. like something out of a bad romcom, and he's hating himself for falling to that stereotype so quickly.
it's no wonder people call him the angel on ice. as apollo stares hopelessly in love at the man in front of him, he can't help but see the most angelic being he's come across. a very nice change from the devil he called a coach only months before. but his mind snaps to it rather quickly, blinking out of his daze and turning his gaze away before it goes from awkward to borderline creepy.) Yeah, well, if a skater falls, and no one's there to see it, does it even count?
(just peeking over at klavier's bright face, a face that sends a wash of comfort and relief over him like everything is somehow fine again after weeks of the opposite, and apollo finds himself smiling just a crack.)
[It'd been awhile. Maybe it was because Daryan had kind of learned that it was hard to rile him up, but the sarcasm, the way he was treated like an actual person for that one moment (even at his own expense, he's got a lot of pride to spare, at least) instead of a celebrity. It made his heart want to burst, and it was the first display of emotion that didn't seem like it was written on a cue card behind the camera by one Kristoph Gavin.
How could he ask for more than that?
Ringed fingers move to hide his mouth, lest he give away any more of that splitting smile.]
Mmm. A great mystery of life, ja?
[Conversation like this was nice. Easy.]
One I hope stays a mystery. Whether it counts or not, you still feel that ice when you go down!
(no, bring back that smile, don't hide it. it's stunning, really, how apollo's sarcasm of all things, the one trait he was often criticized on for being too blunt or too mean. that was what made klavier burst into laughter and bring out a smile that could make flowers grow.
he tries not to make it too obvious how he's attempting to glance at what bits of klavier's face he can still see behind that hand, and suddenly, every jab about him being cynical or unapproachable die out in his mind. if it brings a smile like that to klavier's face, why on earth would he ever want to stop?
he crosses his arms, glancing away with what he thinks is an unimpressed, but really, he just looks like he's trying to hold back his own laughter.) Well, glad to know you supposedly know what your ass hitting the ice feels like, same as the rest of us plebes.
[This was a much better side to Apollo, Klavier decides, taking the comment with another chuckle as that hand moves away, ready to go and grab his things. He had a da--...no, a meeting of acquaintances tomorrow, and he had to make sure he got enough sleep so he wouldn't prove himself wrong and fall on his ass in public. It's slow, though, as if he's purposely taking his time to keep a hold on this conversation as long as he can. A soft hum escapes, head tilting in just such a way that you can see the muscles in his neck move along with it.]
'Plebes' are just success stories that haven't happened yet.
We all put on the same skates and we all fall on our asses, ja?
[A pause.]
I am fortunate you're not interviewing me for a magazine. I can onlly imagine how that would look as a quote.
(his heart picks up just a little bit more as klavier's smile becomes visible once again, the corners of his lips tugging into more of a smile at his words. when was the last time he was this comfortable enough to talk and joke around with someone that wasn't clay? it was so easy and refreshing... no wonder he had a loyal fanbase, who wouldn't want to follow klavier?
but he watches as klavier begins to pick up his belongings as he prepares to leave, and apollo's heart breaks just that little bit. it kills him to see him go, even if there's a promise to meet up tomorrow.
he keeps his tone light and sarcastic, though, eager to continue their banter.) Hey, I could still take that quote to the press and let them have a field day.
(not that he ever would, he'd never wish the cruelty of the press on anyone that didn't deserve it. he shifts in place, though, as klavier prepares to leave, his voice dropping a little quieter.) Are you leaving?
[His heart pauses at that question, making mental note of how Apollo's voice drops of, how it takes itself just a couple notes deeper and softer. A piano instead of of mezzo-forte.
Was that slight disappointment he was hearing? Something he never thought he'd get out of their first meeting. After all, hadn't Apollo just been the one who was trying to escape? And now, here he is giving the man a little space and he can't get enough. Ironic, how the tone can shift in their conversation, much like a key change in a song.
Klavier's not one to let a chance like that just slip by.]
(apollo almost immediately regrets asking that question, only met with a question that's no doubt inviting a whole slew of teases and possibly less than well intentioned jabs at his expense. there's just something too light and easygoing about his tone that makes apollo expect nothing but the worst.
clay uses that tone all the time.
he turns away with a scoff, face scrunched up in annoyance, but that blush is still evident on his cheeks, perhaps even from having his motives discovered so quickly.) Oh, don't flatter yourself.
(even though it's a high possibility that it's already far too late for that. his expression softens, once again that teeniest smidge of vulnerability showing through as he rubs the back of his neck, quite unable to make eye contact.
for multiple reasons.) I was just worried I was intruding on your practice or something...
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but somehow, saying out loud just how terrified he is to skate, how it's been a challenge to get on the ice and find any sort of enjoyment in his practices, it makes his heart ache and weep. almost enough that he feels himself about to start tearing up. he blinks furiously, silently demanding those tears never fall, not in front of someone like klavier.
the inquiry catches his attention, glancing at klavier still with a hint of caution in his eyes. he reflexively tenses up, curling back just an inch, but not enough for their hands to separate.
part of him doesn't really want them to.) What? Why?
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I want to spend time with you, is all.
[Is this an outing or a date, one may never know.]
When I'm not sure about something on the rink, I find the answer when I'm off.
[For the most part.]
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but he also understands that the last two times he trusted someone with a kind smile and sweet words, his life was turned upside down and left him with little more than nothing. no coach. no career. no chances.
even despite those words, of simply wanting to be with him, can he trust those? his eyes shoot up, wide and taken aback, as if that was the last thing he expected to hear.) You what?
(juts spend time with him? a complete stranger? any understanding apollo sensed is gone and replaced with nothing but confusion. but that dark little part of him that still sees the distrust in people, the part that always tries to keep a distance, that makes him tug his arm away (despite missing the touch), and glare at klavier.
but not nastily. no, more cautious and miffed than angered.) What, and you always ask out complete strangers who just happen to be broken skaters?
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A smile, humble and apologetic, spreads across his face as his hand draws back. Some vitriol was expected, he guesses.]
You're right. I'm being incredibly rude.
I'm Klavier Gavin--[Although a part of him is positive this man knows exactly who he is. He had an uncanny resemblance to someone...less than favourable.]--and you are...
[His hand, the one that had fingers looped around his wrist only moments before, extends out in gesture.]
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everything klavier is makes it harder and harder for apollo to see any resemblance between the brothers aside from their looks. and if apollo was being honest... klavier was easily the more gorgeous of the two. that smile and that attitude, the openness and honesty he speaks with makes only one thought run through apollo's mind.
fuck, i'm gay.
his wrist grows cold with the absence of klavier's hand around it, leaving apollo almost wishing it would go back. but he snaps out of that daze quickly, hesitantly reaching his hand over to link with klavier's in a shake.) I'm... Apollo Justice.
(swear to god, if this guy makes an ice pun, i don't care how pretty he is, i'll punch him.)
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No ice pun, he's not exactly looking like a lawyer's assistant. But he will smile a bit at how...epic Apollo's name seemed to be. Then again, his parents weren't any better in the 'ridiculous' department.]
Well, then, Apollo Justice, now that we've exchanged names...that makes us acquaintances, ja? And spending time to get to know an acquaintance is what naturally comes after, isn't it?
[It's a little assertive of him, but there's something about this boy he can't quite shake just yet.]
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but klavier is speaking to him, asking questions, and it would probably do apollo some good to snap out of his gaydream and listen. and... that part of him that can't trust anyone, not after all the lies and betrayal he's been through, that part of him gets defensive. he tenses up, just barely, hands on his bags tightening, staring at klavier with cautious and hesitant eyes.) Why are you so insistent on this? You don't even know if the feeling is mutual.
(... wait. he pauses, thinking over his words as they replay in his mind. that. definitely didn't come out right. a light pink blush washes over his cheeks, a bit of his walls coming down to be replaced with something more... embarrassed. frantic.) N-Not like that, I didn't mean it like that! I just meant I might not want to go on a date!
(shit. klavier never said it was a date. why did he say it was a date? IT WASN'T A DATE???? WAS IT????? HE DOESN'T KNOW. his blush only deepens, going from pink to red in moments, quickly losing his composure as he struggles to find the right words.) And it's not a date! This isn't a date, it's... it's just a meeting! Between acquaintances! That I might not want to go on!
(klavier please stop him before this boy stops breathing.)
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KLAVIER liked to think he was smooth. But APOLLO JUSTICE on the other hand...
Well, his eyes shoot wide open at the boy's outburst, a deer in the headlights as words came at him at a volume he would not have expected to come out of such a short statured man.
But it was there--right there, in that moment where Apollo had realized he'd blurted out too much of his internal monologue that Klavier's eyes practically lit up like the sun filled sky, each word Apollo tries to remedy making the man sink more and more into the pool of charmed. His smile doesn't deviate for a second the moment it appears on his lips, and actually, he's not even sure when that got there. The way it's splitting his face, he's absolutely enamoured by his struggle to find the correct words for this situation.]
A meet up between acquaintances, that's right.
[A date.]
Well, do you want to go with me?
[Klavier, a man who's had many dates with many men and women...felt his heart stop for just a moment, waiting for Apollo's answer.]
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so it's here again, when apollo sees that smile on klavier's face, and he's sure any fan of the angel on ice would've screamed at a sight like that, a smile meant just for them. it should've been a dream come true.
apollo just saw it as another part of a nightmare. he's been here, working his ass off just for a little recognition for himself. he blunders once, and something about that smile just... stabs at apollo's heart, and not in the way one would think it might. he only sees someone mocking him again, focusing only on his mistakes and how oh so funny they must be to other people.
he straightens up, face firm and... maybe just a touch of pain in his eyes. he can't say he expected it from someone like klavier.) No. You haven't told me anything, where we'd go or do, or even why you're doing this. I don't know your reasons or motives or plans for any of this, and I'm not one of your screaming fans who'd do whatever you want at the drop of a hat.
(he pauses, just for a moment, that sinking feeling in his heart that he went too far. said too much, was a little too honest. his voice softens, expression going into something sadder, but only for the briefest of moments.) You... understand. And I'm grateful for that. But I'm done being dragged around by people on a whim for their own needs.
(goddammit.)
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"You have something inside you that wants to get out and fly. I can help you." He'd said. And he'd shrugged it off.
Not that it did much. He ended up crawling back to the man before long.
The resistence from Apollo wasn't nearly so different, was it? And just like Miles Edgeworth had shown him, persistence and honesty would pay off. With his heart beating against his ribcage, he brushes a few fingers through his bangs, thinking it over.]
There's a rink on the other side of town I want to take you to. My motive? I just want to get your mind off of things. As for a screaming fan, even they get to decide yes or no, just like you.
[It hurt a little, but you learn to steel yourself when it comes to your public persona. If he hadn't, he'd have never survived on social media or any public outlet. There's countless Youtube comments of 'that fop' or questions about his sexuality. Which are true, but they have no right to make the assumption!]
I won't drag you, not anymore. But if you want me to take a lie detector test I'm sure we can arrange that to prove my motives are pure.
[He's joking, of course. Who has a lie detector up their sleeve?]
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but he could always tell, somehow, when someone was lying or being dishonest to him. apollo had seen it time and time again as he approached different coaches for help, their hesitance to take him under their wing, their uncertainty on being able to trust him. he still chastises himself for not picking up on it sooner, instead trusting blindly and following orders believing he was doing the right thing.
here and now, though, it's different. it's almost instinctual, the way he reaches over to rub the skin under his bracelet, almost hoping there would be the familiar clench reacting to another person's anxiety.
his eyes grow wide, something vulnerable and bear underneath him, as if searching klavier for something. he was nervous, no doubt, apollo was just barely able to see it, but it wasn't because of the words. his hand grips around his wrist with the bracelet, pulling it up to his chest and apollo has to look away this time, so unused to seeing people so honest and genuine to him.) No, I... I believe you.
(almost without realizing, his eyes are misting over, just starting to form tears, leaving him to hurriedly blink them away. he doesn't need to be that vulnerable to klavier.) S-Sorry. I'm not... used to this.
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Not to sound like a broken record, but he knows. He truly knows.]
Then can I have the honour of being your first act of human decency?
A meeting of acquaintances tomorrow at the ice rink downtown. No strings attached, and if you decide to not come, I'll understand. We can talk about everything or nothing.
But I hope you'll come. It's more fun to skate with someone in a public rink, ja?
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apollo wishes he could hold back, keep at least a little bit of composure in front of klavier gavin of all people, but seeing someone care so deeply and openly, and there's nothing he can do to stop the slow stream of tears down his cheeks.
he truly deserves his nickname "angel on the ice". apollo is sure there's no human being on earth closer to one.) I-I'll come.
(he's scrubbing away viciously at his tears, nodding through them and giving klavier nothing but confirmation that this is what he wants more than anything.) I'd like to. A lot. I'll be there.
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Apollo's answer is soft, but it's enough to ease up Klavier's face even more than before, his smile practically sparkling and his eyes as bright as the sky. There's a reach for his bag, one he'd deposited when he'd arrived here, to pull out a tissue. Mostly for wiping his makeup off or in case his allergies started acting up again, but Apollo needed it far more than he did right now.
He extends it without hesitation, a silent offer to even help dab those eyes dry.]
It'll be fun, ja?
[That smile's nothing but genuine, moving to dab a spot his hands had missed.] A warning, it won't be my best performance. We'll mostly be skating in circles.
[A joke, or an attempt at one.]
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he's just glad someone cares.
he tries to force down his sniffles and sobs, but it only makes them come out more hiccuped and pained than he actually feels. this is one of his lesser moments, easily, breaking down in front of a legendary skater just extending a kind hand. a hand that now has a tissue in it, and before apollo can even extend his own hand to take it, he suddenly finds it gently wiping away his tears. the only thing he can do in a situation like this is gaze, into what's easily been the kindest and sweetest face he's met with in weeks.
his breathing softens, almost completely stopping as calm, blue eyes look at him like he's all the world right now, and he finally snaps out of his daze, bright red-faced and blinking as he tries to divert his attention anywhere than the face he just spent five minutes staring at.) Y-Yeah right, even on your worst day, you could still win a gold, I'd watch you skate no matter what.
(... shit.)
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Of course, Klavier's not blind to Apollo's own flushed cheeks, and it's a little relieving to know that the boy is just as flustered by his attempts at flirting as he is at the...'accidental' ones Apollo gave. He makes no notice of it though, and if asked, he'd say it was just from the fact Apollo had been crying.
Deep down, though, he truly hoped it wasn't the latter in the slightest.]
You flatter me~ [His voice trails off melodically, running that tissue just underneath his eye to get the residue of the tears already shed.]
As hard as it might be to believe, I have fallen once or twice in the public rink.
Don't tell the fans that, though. That's just between us.
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and though he tries to avert his eyes, look anywhere but klavier in fear of teasing remarks, he just... can't. not with him looking so intently at him as he wipes the remains of the tears away, and by this point, apollo believes with no question that klavier must be at least a little freaked out by him, unless he treats him like a fan. and if this is how klavier treats his fans...
he's never been good at this. trying to guess people's intentions, pick out who's flirting and who's just being nice out of courtesy. this hardly seemed like the sort of action a person would do to just anyone. yet at the same time, apollo knows klavier has always given off a much friendlier vibe.
god, he wishes this was easy.
he finally manages to tear his gaze away, still red faced, but with a flatter look on his face as he gets some of his fight back in him.) Oh wow, two whole times, it must be so hard being you.
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Especially not sarcasm.
His eyes widen briefly for one moment, blinking owlishly at Apollo's words as they process in his brain. What to most people would be an insult is...hilarious to Klavier, his hand reaching up to flick at his bangs once more as something erupts out of his mouth. Not a yell, not a complaint, but...laughter.
He's laughing.]
Look!
[There's nothing that comes after that except more laughter. Daryan often poked fun at him just like this...but it was never with this sort of vibe. His had more bite to it, more...sting, maybe. But Apollo's had a somewhat light, if deadpan tone to it.]
All my messups are in private!
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but no, instead it's only just hit him how hard he's fallen for a man he met half an hour ago. like something out of a bad romcom, and he's hating himself for falling to that stereotype so quickly.
it's no wonder people call him the angel on ice. as apollo stares hopelessly in love at the man in front of him, he can't help but see the most angelic being he's come across. a very nice change from the devil he called a coach only months before. but his mind snaps to it rather quickly, blinking out of his daze and turning his gaze away before it goes from awkward to borderline creepy.) Yeah, well, if a skater falls, and no one's there to see it, does it even count?
(just peeking over at klavier's bright face, a face that sends a wash of comfort and relief over him like everything is somehow fine again after weeks of the opposite, and apollo finds himself smiling just a crack.)
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How could he ask for more than that?
Ringed fingers move to hide his mouth, lest he give away any more of that splitting smile.]
Mmm. A great mystery of life, ja?
[Conversation like this was nice. Easy.]
One I hope stays a mystery. Whether it counts or not, you still feel that ice when you go down!
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he tries not to make it too obvious how he's attempting to glance at what bits of klavier's face he can still see behind that hand, and suddenly, every jab about him being cynical or unapproachable die out in his mind. if it brings a smile like that to klavier's face, why on earth would he ever want to stop?
he crosses his arms, glancing away with what he thinks is an unimpressed, but really, he just looks like he's trying to hold back his own laughter.) Well, glad to know you supposedly know what your ass hitting the ice feels like, same as the rest of us plebes.
(and what an ass it is FUCK.)
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'Plebes' are just success stories that haven't happened yet.
We all put on the same skates and we all fall on our asses, ja?
[A pause.]
I am fortunate you're not interviewing me for a magazine. I can onlly imagine how that would look as a quote.
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but he watches as klavier begins to pick up his belongings as he prepares to leave, and apollo's heart breaks just that little bit. it kills him to see him go, even if there's a promise to meet up tomorrow.
he keeps his tone light and sarcastic, though, eager to continue their banter.) Hey, I could still take that quote to the press and let them have a field day.
(not that he ever would, he'd never wish the cruelty of the press on anyone that didn't deserve it. he shifts in place, though, as klavier prepares to leave, his voice dropping a little quieter.) Are you leaving?
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[His heart pauses at that question, making mental note of how Apollo's voice drops of, how it takes itself just a couple notes deeper and softer. A piano instead of of mezzo-forte.
Was that slight disappointment he was hearing? Something he never thought he'd get out of their first meeting. After all, hadn't Apollo just been the one who was trying to escape? And now, here he is giving the man a little space and he can't get enough. Ironic, how the tone can shift in their conversation, much like a key change in a song.
Klavier's not one to let a chance like that just slip by.]
Did you want me to stay, now?
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clay uses that tone all the time.
he turns away with a scoff, face scrunched up in annoyance, but that blush is still evident on his cheeks, perhaps even from having his motives discovered so quickly.) Oh, don't flatter yourself.
(even though it's a high possibility that it's already far too late for that. his expression softens, once again that teeniest smidge of vulnerability showing through as he rubs the back of his neck, quite unable to make eye contact.
for multiple reasons.) I was just worried I was intruding on your practice or something...
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