I had plans for this? And then I forgot them lol so here is a part of a greater part that does not exists. Sometimes you just need dramatic love confessions
“I think I’ve always loved you,” Bacara said. He didn’t whisper it or say it softly. He said it like it was common knowledge though Rex was tripping over the sudden lack of air. Like a nerf had kicked him solid in the chest and he was still gasping for the breath that was forced out of him. “I think I loved you before I ever even met you. I would hear stories about you.
“I had this image in my head, of someone so much more everything then I was and I was afraid- I think. Of meeting you, at first.”
“That make no sense,” Rex found himself arguing. Bacara smiled slightly and Rex inanely wanted to- to do something. All at once he wanted equally whatever this was to just get over with all ready, and to stretch on and on.
“And then I met you,” Bacara dropped from his normal, emotionless after-action report. It fell low, as if in wonder. Rex resisted the sudden urge to lean in, he could hear it fine. Suddenly more aware of all his limbs and the space around him, how close Bacara stood. Still across the table, but Rex could feel the distance. Such a small place between them, but Bacara did not look away, “You were more then I could even imagine.”
Bacara reached out to him and Rex found himself frozen. All he could hear were the quiets puffs of breath between them. His heart in his ears, beating loud and present. Rex’s breath caught in his throat at the feel of Bacara’s fingers slid along his cheek and up over his temple. As if he was fragile. As if he was precious.
“I would do anything for you, Captain Rex,” Bacara promised and his smile grew. Force, his smile. Rex thoughts continued to grasp hopelessly at anything that made sense. “All you have to do is ask.”
prompt: friends (although this did not end up fulfilling that prompt at all.)
aa4 spoilers. disregards the existence of aa5/6 basically — my own take on a somehow post-canon Klapollo.
ao3.
When Klavier waltzed into the Wright Anything Agency (and later Apollo would think of how he hadn’t seen this sooner, how it was somehow so much more like Klavier than it wasn’t), it was on a Thursday that beat on them both like rain.
Klavier was all presence, Apollo knew—every part of him demanded it from the chain around his neck to the leather boots on his feet to the smile/smirk he trained like every performer was meant to—but when he opened the front door and slid onto the couch, it was with a stillness that surprised them both.
Stillness was the last thing he expected from Klavier. Klavier was movement and presence. Klavier was the space between the walls. Klavier was the tightening of the bracelet, the beat of Apollo’s heart (that if he listened, sounded a little like pity) that came like clockwork whenever Klavier smiled.
The bracelet tightened now when Klavier sat up and looked at him, finger drumming a non-stop beat into the couch. Apollo rubbed his arm.
“Herr Forehead! Just who I wanted to see.”
“Mr. Wright isn’t home,” Apollo said, dropped his umbrella by the door. Not that that really changed anything. Klavier Gavin still sat on his couch. The rain from outside sang into the window panes, matching Klavier’s beat. He reached for the umbrella again and stopped himself.
Klavier turned on the couch, still looking at Apollo.
“I’m not here for Herr Wright.”
With all the brilliance of a defense attorney, Apollo said: “Oh.”
His mind twisted and Apollo opened his mouth, shut it. Of course Klavier could be there if he wanted to—though he knew there was a time he would have dragged Klavier, leather boots and all, out the door and thrown him into the wet street kicking and screaming. Klavier opened his mouth again, and for all of one moment Apollo didn’t doubt that he would have done it again.
(Somehow, something had changed, shifted the moment the judge put down his gavel and the courtroom doors closed. Apollo shook his head. The pity surged and died again.)
“Trucy isn’t here either.”
Klavier stood up. “I’m here to see you.”
“Okay,” Apollo told him, swallowing. All the times he’d stood before Klavier in court couldn’t compare to this, to whatever pulsed between the walls and wormed its way into his ribcage. Again—pity. He swallowed again. “You’ve seen me.”
(In another life, maybe, there was a time when they stood in front of each other as Apollo Justice and Klavier Gavin. In another life, there was a time when he looked at Klavier and saw something other than the smile that now made his eyes ache for the ground.)
Klavier only shook his head, sliding his hands into his pockets. The bracelet tightened.
“You know that isn’t what I meant.”
I don’t, Apollo wanted to say, but didn’t. The bracelet was a noose around his wrist. The room shifted on itself.
“What is it, then?” Apollo said in spite of himself. He pointed at the couch and then let his hand drop at his side. “Maybe I should—sit.”
“I won’t take long. It’s just—“—Klavier stopped, and for a brilliant moment Apollo thought he understood what kept Klavier performing long after the curtains had closed—“—that I’m sorry.”
“What?” The bracelet was silent. “For what?”
Klavier shrugged and looked at Apollo like he was supposed to understand. He doubted Klavier knew himself.
“I’m not really sure myself.” He twisted his hands and then stopped when he saw Apollo looking. Klavier’s eyes were like glass, Apollo thought with the same almost thrumming pity from before. A mirror. “Just needed to say sorry for someone who couldn’t.”
Wouldn’t, Apollo’s mind said, and then stilled. The rain on the windows went quiet.
In another life, Klavier lived without the weight of another’s sins on his shoulders.)
(Did Klavier resent him, somehow? He must have—some part of him, the part of him that stayed where Kristoph was, must have. Apollo closed his eyes and opened them.)
“I understand,” Apollo said, and in that moment, he did.
The Weeknd - Drunk In Love (Official Remix) instrumental? I think it could make great sexy background music when writing intimate scenes >w>
SEND ME SONG RECS
(oooh la la~)
couldn’t listen all the way through | not my thing | it’s okay | kinda catchy | ok i really like this | downloading immediately | already in my library
I CAN’T JUST PORN WITHOUT ANY SET UP I’M SORRY BUT THIS IS TOTALLY GOING IN MY PUPPETEER REFS THANK YOU
A breath in his space; a breath in hers. A careful cadence passed between them in the low light was more than he could take, every brush bringing his mind to the fact that there was an expanse of unexplored skin beneath her clothing - something he shouldn’t be thinking about at all, but dark clubs and deep, throbbing baselines had a way of tugging out midnight fantasies better kept locked away.
He couldn’t see her eyes, not really - strobe lights were not made for illumination - but every so often, he caught a glimpse of a curve of lip, the swoop of her neck, and it felt like hell.
She pressed soft, lush curves against him and caught his arm. “We should go find Nino and Alya.”
Adrien forcibly pulled his mind out of the gutter and replied, “Alright.”
