Work Text:
Klavier had always worn makeup and Apollo had never minded. From the day they met, Apollo was accustomed to the subtle eye liner and slight shimmer on his eyelids, and, after a while, he even got used to the occasional lipgloss. On special occasions he was treated to a bolder look and darker eyeshadow, but his everyday look was usually pretty simple.
That is to say that Apollo was not adverse to makeup itself. He’s seen Klavier with and without it, and he was devastatingly beautiful in each and every scenario. So it didn’t make much of a difference to him. At least, it didn’t until he’d started making a habit out of wearing lipstick.
Not lipgloss, not lip tint, lipstick.
The first time was in court, because of course it was. Apollo hardly remembered the case itself, yet he could visualize the exact shade the opposition had been wearing. Not his proudest moment.
He remembered Trucy nudging him with her elbow during a cross-examination when his eyes had.. wandered.
“Polly, please stop staring at Klavier’s mouth. How haven’t you noticed the witness fiddling with her earrings?” She’d hissed under her breath.
“I- I’m not doing that,” he’d lied. Trucy only grimaced.
“Dude, just pray that it wasn’t as obvious to the jury as it was to me.”
He refused to look in Klavier’s general direction for the rest of the case. 526 Mallow Rose, by the way.
He hated that he knew.
Back then, he’d been naive enough to hope that it was a one time thing. Maybe he had a photoshoot later in the day and that was why. Maybe there was some stupid rockstar-related reason.
But no, of course not.
It became a daily thing. His smile was always coated in a perfectly distracting pink or purple or, god help him, red. Now that was when Apollo really began to crack. When he couldn’t even pretend it wasn’t there. It was impossible to look at him when his eyes were drawn to his mouth every single time. It was a problem.
A big problem.
And when Klavier would fish out the lipstick from his bag and reapply it in front of him- that was when he just about lost his mind. He watched him shamelessly, enthralled by the way the color glided seamlessly onto his lips, the way his mouth fell open slightly to avoid getting any on his teeth. Apollo only realized he’d been caught when he watched his freshly coated lips pull into a smile.
“Distracted, are we?” Klavier’s eyes glittered as he said it.
Very, he thought. “Hardly,” he said.
He hummed an unconvinced sound, gorgeous red lips pressed into a thin smile.
“If you’re interested, the shade is 644 Sydney,” Klavier told him, probably just to make conversation. Apollo didn’t tell him that he’d known it was between 644 Sydney and 720 Icone. He didn’t tell him that he’d been driven to the brink of insanity and made the awful mistake of researching Dior the first time he’d seen the case in Klavier’s hand. He didn’t tell him that at this point it was an obsession, and treating every new shade like an investigation was the only way for him to keep his head on straight.
In fact, he didn’t tell him anything at all.
So Klavier kept wearing lipstick and Apollo kept thinking about it. He’d scroll through the catalogue of products and organize them by color and finish while his mind wandered to what they felt like. Would Klavier’s lips feel different against his own with a velvet finish versus a satiny one? Would they feel all that different bare? Which kind of lipstick would stain his skin the most as Klavier kissed his neck? How many kisses would it take to ruin the most long-lasting, kind?
He closed his laptop. This had to stop.
“You’re pretty fond of lipstick, huh?” Apollo tried to bring it up casually. He was sat across from Klavier at one of their typical lunch spots, 976 Daisy Plum staring back at him. He grinned.
“From the looks of it, so are you,” Klavier returned easily.
Apollo did his best not to bristle, having expected the comment. It was best to ignore it altogether.
“I only ask because you never wore it before. Now it’s pretty much every day.” It was every day. Without fail. Apollo would’ve noticed if he finally caught a break.
Klavier shrugged. “Ach, I hadn’t really explored it much in the past. A couple months ago, Ema gave me a lip makeup gift set that she’d received from a well-meaning friend, but none of it was her shade. I’m not sure what her friend was thinking, selecting purples for Ema of all people. A shame, really, because the products are spectacular. I guess I realized how much I liked lipstick after that.”
So this was Ema’s fault. He’d have to give her a piece of his mind.
Everything crumbled the night he opened his apartment door to find a smile glittering with 112 Sunlit Amber.
He’d only seen the shade once before, and he’d just about ran into a lamppost. Matte he could handle. A little shimmer he could take. But this one- this goddamn lipstick- this one was burgundy and glossy and made his mouth shine.
He’d found the shade the second he got home that day. It was impossible to mistake for anything else.
“May I come in?,” Klavier asked teasingly when Apollo failed to do so much as greet him.
“Yeah- uh, come in,” he muttered, stepping aside and staring at the floor.
“I hope you’re ready, liebling, word has it that the season finale is a wild one,” Klavier told him excitedly, and Apollo felt terrible that he was about to tune their show out completely. But could you blame him? He could actually hear the subtle, wet click of Klavier’s lips parting, as if he’d applied a fresh coat of gloss right before knocking on his door. Fuck.
He’d never worn lipstick in his apartment before. Or at the very least, he’d taken it off the moment he arrived. After all, there wasn’t much point in being glamorous over popcorn and a shitty sci-fi drama series. But somehow, impossibly, he was walking past the bathroom and sitting on the couch. Somehow, he was looking at Apollo with that sweet, expectant look while his smile glimmered irresistibly in the light of the TV.
Apollo tried very hard to control himself. He sat a reasonable distance away and stared straight ahead, ignoring the insurmountable urge to turn and stare and admire.
As soon as Klavier pressed play, he knew this was a losing game. The words of the actors buzzed incomprehensibly in his ears, the visuals meant nothing to his eyes. Hell, he couldn’t even think. It took every drop of focus in his body just to keep himself still. To keep himself from taking the leap and just kissing him.
Klavier, like always, made it worse.
“Ach, did you notice that, Apollo?” The ‘p’ in his name was over-enunciated thanks to the coat of product on his lips. “Did you hear what he said?”
No, he sure as hell didn’t. He hasn’t heard a word. He wasn’t even sure how long the episode had been playing, or if they’d gone through more than one.
Klavier hummed, far too close to his ear despite the space that Apollo had purposefully put between them when he’d sat down. “Are you alright, schatzi? You seem a bit out of it,” he drawled, feigning concern. All at once, Apollo was finally sure that he knew. He knew exactly what he was doing.
“Klavier,” he began dangerously. He felt Klavier tense beside him.
When he finally looked over, he wasn’t met with discomfort or apprehension. No, he looked impatient. He wore a subdued smile, the kind he wore in court when he knew something Apollo didn’t and was waiting for him to catch on. He was excited.
“I am begging you to take it off before I do something stupid.”
Klavier’s mouth twitched upward. Loose blond hair fell over his shoulders as he leaned ever so slightly closer to Apollo. “Something stupid? I’m not sure I know what you’re referring to,” he murmured slowly, almost seductively. He traced his fingertips down Apollo’s arm, touch featherlight as it trailed down to his hand. “Tell me, what exactly should I take off for you?”
Apollo, with his heart stuck in his throat, just barely choked out, “You know. You have to know- Don’t you realize I’m about to kiss you?”
Klavier laughed, breath hot against his mouth. “Yes, Apollo. I’d appreciate it if you hurried up.”
Apollo wasted no time burying his hands in perfect, silky hair and kissing him hard on his gorgeous, red mouth. It was everything he’d imagined, yet somehow greater. His lips were smooth and sticky, gliding rhythmically against his own as he knew they would. But nothing could’ve prepared him for the warmth in them. He hadn’t been prepared for the way a simple press of lips set his blood on fire and left him wanting more.
He let his mouth fall open, an invitation that Klavier accepted enthusiastically. He tasted like spearmint, and Apollo finally realized that he’d been planning this. He’d brushed his teeth before coming over, chose to wear this specific lipstick, and then waited for Apollo to cave. Apollo couldn’t even find it in himself to be upset. Not when Klavier’s hands were teasing the hem of his sweater and warm fingertips were ghosting his skin. He couldn’t help the embarrassing sound that escaped his throat as Klavier pressed his hand flat against the small of his back.
Klavier only kissed him deeper, tugging lightly at his hip with a finger through the belt loop of his pants. Apollo didn’t think twice, keeping his mouth busy as he tossed his leg over Klavier’s knees and sat himself on top of his thighs. Klavier hummed into his mouth, thoroughly content, and slid his hands across his bare skin to grip his waist. Apollo never tired of playing with his hair, tightening his grip here and there just to see if he’d make more pretty sounds. He did, of course, and Apollo would swallow each one eagerly, rubbing mindless patterns into his scalp.
Eventually Apollo’s lungs forced him to pull away, mouth wet and agape as he panted. And oh, what a sight to be met with.
Klavier’s prized lipstick was utterly, beautifully ruined. His lips shone with more than just the burgundy pigment now. This time, Apollo gazed at his mouth and knew that he was the cause of its radiance.
They stared at each other for a long moment, feverish eyes and heavy breathing, and Apollo wondered briefly if he should say something.
“112 Sunlit Amber,” he uttered foolishly.
Klavier’s eyes widened, understanding crossing his face, hot and heavy. “Gott, you really do like it, don’t you?” he purred.
“Fuck, obviously,” he hissed, kissing him once more. “You’ve known from the very beginning. You planned this entire thing,” he accused.
Klavier laughed into his open mouth, all too willing to admit his guilt. “Ja, and I knew it was working when I put on last season and you didn’t even notice.”
Apollo paused, embarrassment creeping up his spine. Klavier laughed harder.
“Did you actually??” He asked incredulously. The other calmed his laughing fit and gently pulled him to sit further up on his thighs, pressing his face into Apollo’s shoulder.
“Yes, I did. I wasn’t planning on dividing my attention,” he explained simply and pressed a lingering kiss to the side of his neck. Apollo shuddered, clutching his shoulders.
Klavier trailed kisses up and down his neck while Apollo struggled to get his hands under his shirt. He could feel the lipstick sticking to his skin every time Klavier pulled away and just the knowledge that it was there was almost too much. Almost.
Mostly out of curiosity, he brought a hand to his face and dragged his index and middle over his lips. When he drew it back again, he could see the dark red residue smudged on his fingertips. The sight was strangely exhilarating.
Klavier paused his mouthing at his neck, making an unhappy sound. He grabbed Apollo’s hand and intertwined their fingers before kissing his lips again.
“Don’t wipe it off,” he all but whined and Apollo shuddered. “You look divine with my lipstick all over you.”
Apollo grabbed his face and pressed their lips together aggressively, utterly bored of his mouth not being on him. Klavier swept his tongue across his bottom lip and Apollo was a willing participant to his own destruction, letting his mouth fall open. Deliriously, he wondered if the style of lipstick would affect his taste.
The moment he tasted him he knew he was done for. His fate was sealed by lavender tea that didn't quite cover up the ghost of spearmint, and he was once again tormented by the knowledge that he had planned this. A hunger unlike anything he'd ever felt overtook him, an insatiable need to have all of him- to taste him, to smell him, to feel him.
He made another feeble attempt at finding the hem of his shirt, far too distracted by the tongue in his mouth to accomplish much. The heat in his chest grew more unbearable with every second he was deprived of tactile contact, and he was losing his patience with the obstacle at record speeds. He pushed him back just enough to be able to speak, frustrated by the self-imposed interruption.
“Off,” he mumbled impatiently, pulling shamelessly at the offending article of clothing. Klavier’s laugh trembled.
“Eager, are we?” He teased, but made no complaints as he quickly did what he was told. Apollo had his hands on him before he’d even gotten the shirt over his head. He dragged his fingers across the smooth, tan expanse of his torso, appreciating each and every detail of his body. Klavier huffed and pulled at his sweater. “Won’t you return the favor?” he asked, voice husky and needy.
Apollo freed himself from the fabric in record time, tossed it carelessly to the side, and tugged Klavier back in. He reveled in the feeling of broad fingers pressed to his chest, exploring his skin and tracing his scars. He slipped his hands up his sides, clinging to the back of his shoulders as Klavier amused himself with his neck again. Except this time he wasn't being gentle, sinking his teeth into the crook of his neck and sucking at the sensitive skin. Apollo was never the best at being quiet and this encounter was, humiliatingly, far from an exception. He closed his eyes and dug his nails into his shoulders, doing everything in his power to stifle sounds he didn't even know he could make.
“We’re alone, you know,” Klavier murmured heavily. “You don’t have to be quiet.”
“My apartment isn’t-“ He gasped as Klavier nipped at his collarbone, dragging his nails down his back. “-sound proof. Like yours. I have neighbors,” he managed in stilted syllables. Klavier hummed, passing his tongue over the spot he’d bitten.
“That’s a shame. We’ll have to hold our next rendezvous at my place, then. I look forward to hearing you in full,” he whispered, kissing the underside of his jaw. The sentiment suddenly brought Apollo a little closer to reality, and he remembered the question he was supposed to ask before kissing him.
“Does this mean you like me? Because we shouldn’t keep doing this if you don’t,” he uttered hoarsely.
Klavier grinned, evidently aware of how late in the game it was to raise such a concern. It made sense, though. This was practically a formality. They both knew very well what the other was feeling in that moment.
“Ja, I like you quite a lot, liebling. Very, very much,” Klavier hummed.
“Good, now how about you take us to your place?”
. . .
Apollo let out a yawn as he shuffled into the bathroom, Klavier right behind him.
When he caught a glimpse of their reflections, he couldn’t help the tired laugh that escaped him. “Wow, it’s even worse in the light,” he thought aloud, leaning over the sink and pulling at Klavier’s oversized shirt to examine his neck.
Practically every inch of his skin was tinted a reddish purple in some degree, and his face wasn’t much better. His lips had about as much product on them as Klavier’s did, the majority of the pigment ending up smeared around their mouths.
Klavier hummed a satisfied sound, draping his arms around Apollo’s shoulders and pressing their faces together to examine them side by side. “What a pair,” he mused and kissed his cheek.
Apollo rolled his eyes. “Well aren’t you sentimental,” he teased. Klavier only smiled and reached around him for his stupid expensive makeup wipes.
“Can you blame me? I mean, how many years have we been running around in circles?” He chuckled as he plucked a wipe from the package and held it out for Apollo to do the same.
Apollo shrugged as he accepted the offer, looking back at his reflection. He found himself laughing again as he held the wipe to his skin. “I can’t even tell what’s lipstick and what’s bruises,” huffed.
“Ja well, you’ll figure it out in a second,” Klavier snarked. Apollo shot him a glare.
They washed up together in something close to harmony, as if they’d gotten used to this routine years ago. Klavier washed his face while Apollo brushed his teeth, then the opposite. It was almost strange how easy it was to move around one another in such a private setting.
At the end of it, Apollo was only a little bit mortified when the cleanser did very little to help to color of his neck.
“Shit- you really did a number on me,” he grumbled, rubbing at the many, many bruises.
“Nothing above the collar of your work clothes,” Klavier replied, as if that made up for the fact that he wouldn’t be able to go out in public without a fully buttoned up dress shirt for a good long while. But as Klavier pressed a kiss to his temple, Apollo decided he didn’t really mind. “Besides, I’d say we’re pretty even,” he added cheekily.
Apollo scoffed, barely biting back an objection about false equivalence. Klavier’s marks were far less visible, more spread out, and could easily be covered with some concealer. And even then, what was there to complain about?
Purple had always been his color.