So Klingt Liebe

Weeks passed. Aside from their weekly dinners, Machi and Klavier took to spending Sundays together. Klavier made it his personal obligation to show Machi the sights he’d missed despite his years in the city. Walking along the pier or waiting in line at Samurai Adventure Land, Machi’s hand would stray to Klavier’s like it did under the table that night. Soon it became so comfortable for them they didn’t even notice they were doing it.

They knew their mistake when they went to visit Daryan. The prison was an intimidating place, home to a million uncomfortable memories. Machi’s hand sought out Klavier’s. Klavier squeezed it as they entered the visitation area and approached Daryan.

His blue eyes fixed them with a withering look and Machi let go.

“So is that how it is? You write me and say that you love me, but you’re with him? Does he get you all the money you need?”

“Daryan! You will not speak to Machi that way.” Machi hadn’t seen Klavier this angry, well, since the last time Daryan said something that rubbed him the wrong way.

Machi raised a hand to silence Klavier. He looked to Daryan. “We need to talk.”

“Not with him here.” Daryan crossed his arms.

“Klavier, will you leave please?” Machi pushed his sunglasses up into his hair to look at Klavier. “I’ll be okay.”

“If you insist,” said Klavier sourly. Machi recognized that tone of voice as the one that usually precluded what Daryan would call a ‘bitch fit.’ Daryan seemed to bring out that side of him easily. “I need to visit someone in solitary, anyway.”

“I’ll see you soon.” Machi knew whom Klavier was going to see. He knew that out of the two of them, Machi was better off.

“Ja.”

Klavier exited. Machi sat at the table in front of Daryan. “Orange is not your color,” he said after a moment.

Daryan looked different. That was to be expected. His wonderful hair was cropped short, grown into mouse brown after the dyed black. His razor sharp features were even more severe with lines of stress. Machi still saw a beautiful man, but his bitterness was much more visible than it was those nights they spent in the Borginian summer. There was a heavy ache in Machi’s chest, an emotion he didn’t know the word for in English.

“Ain’t exactly royal purple,” Daryan snorted. “Why did you come, Machi? Are you here to give me the ‘let’s just be friends’ speech? Because I hate to disappoint you, but I’ve already moved on. I’ve got a hot new boyfriend named Matt and everything.”

Machi thought he looked a little uncomfortable saying that name, but overlooked it. “That’s not why,” he said carefully. Machi was always so careful around Daryan. Hated disappointing him, hated his outbursts and raucous laughter.

“Then why?” Daryan pierced him with his gaze. Machi folded his hands in his lap and stared at them.

“I don’t know why. I just needed to see you. They’re going to put you to death someday--”

“Because of you. You’d rather I get the needle than do something good for me, after all I did for you.”

“I tried to cover you. I would’ve taken the death penalty for you, can you imagine?”

“They wouldn’t have given the death penalty to a fourteen-year-old. Besides, Klavier wouldn’t have let it happen. He’s always had a thing for you. You know he tried to stick me with statutory rape charges in addition to murder? That Lamiroir bitch was behind it, too.”

“It didn’t happen because I begged her not to testify. And I would not.” The whole time was one of numbness, of social workers and juvenile detention centers. Machi didn’t remember it well, nor did he want to. “In his own way, he was looking out for me. But I don’t think you raped me.”

“That’s what I keep trying to tell everyone! You seduced me. Just like you seduced Klavier.”

“I haven’t seduced Klavier. We’re not like that.”

“Yeah, because you totally hold hands like queers prancing off for their honeymoon because you’re just bestest friends. Whatever.”

“We’re not here to talk about Klavier,” Machi broke in. “About you and me, actually. I’ve thought about it. You knew what I was, and you never told me you knew. That hurts.”

“What do you mean? That some sick fucks had you in their pimp and porn business? I thought you knew we investigated that.”

Machi fixed him with his most withering look, bad enough that it burned through the lenses of his sunglasses. “Don’t play dumb. No one told me.”

“Shit, Machi, I… sorry, I guess I just thought it would be better not to bring it up.”

Machi forced himself to meet Daryan’s gaze. He hated that Daryan really seemed sorry. This man murdered someone with a revolver. Why? For money? For himself? For Machi? He would probably never understand. He was too afraid to ask. He didn’t know what was worse, the thought that Daryan’s love led to murder, or the fact that it might not have. “When my mother died, I inherited nothing but an old piano and a pile of debts. The piano didn’t even make a dent in it. I had no choice; at least, that’s what they told me. I was ten years old and I had no one in the world. So I was forced to sleep with men.”

Machi was outside himself listening. Daryan was pale and obviously didn’t want to hear this, kept trying to speak and failing. “The only time anyone paid attention to me, the only time anyone treated me like something besides human garbage, was when there was sex. I liked you. You paid attention to me. So I became confused… you’re a detective, aren’t you? You’ve studied psychology. Aren’t you aware of these sorts of things? I didn’t know any better. But you did. Didn’t you?”

“You were fucking beautiful. I knew it was wrong, but you made me want it anyway. You’re even pulling Klav in now, aren’t you?”

Machi’s gaze fell back to his hands.

“Don’t make me feel bad for treating you like a whore. You act like one, you get treated like one, Machi.”

Machi jumped to his feet. “You are a bitch son, Daryan Crescend! You are a fucking bitch son!”

Daryan pointed at him and laughed. “Been here this long and you still can’t speak English? Go back to Borginia. Oh wait, you can’t!”

Machi stood lamely as Daryan had a long laugh at his expense, echoing through the visitor’s room, wringing his hands together. He felt every muscle in his body tense as he recalled the night Daryan convinced him to help smuggle the cocoon.

They’ve just finished fucking. Machi’s ass aches, but that’s fine with him. Seeing Daryan go all satisfied like a purring tiger makes up for it. Pleased with his handiwork, Machi goes back to reading his book while Daryan’s still talking.

“Just trust me. I’ve got a buyer already set. All you have to do is find it for me and help me hide it.”

“I don’t know. Security is pretty tight. And if we’re caught, we’ll be in big trouble.”

“Trust me,” Daryan says, putting his body over Machi’s and kissing him fiercely. His hands are in Machi’s hair. “Would I steer you wrong? If anything happens, I’ll protect you.”

Machi’s tiny fist connected with Daryan’s cheek before security noticed. It was a small blow from a slight person, but it was enough for security to bodily remove him. As a guard led him away, Machi saw Daryan rubbing his cheek. Sadness didn’t seem right on the older man’s face, maybe because Machi had never seen it there before.

“I didn’t mean for this to happen,” Machi called to him. “I did love you.”

“Go to hell,” Daryan shot back at him halfheartedly. “Go to hell and take that self-obsessed diva with you.”

Machi waited outside, sitting on the bumper of Klavier’s BMW. He could see Klavier coming a mile away. Knew before he saw his face the man had been crying. There was something broken in the way he walked. Normally Klavier never slouched.

“Time to go.” Klavier opened the car door for him. Machi climbed in. Klavier started up the car and they drove for a while. There were murmurs about lunch and they decided to go to Edgeworth’s tearoom. Of course that wasn’t the name of the place, but that’s how they thought of it. The place they went the day they reunited. Aside from that, their drive was silent. Machi watched the scenery go by. The trees were nearly barren. The sky was a stern gun metal gray, threatening rain. He looked at anyone but Klavier, who still sniffled. He felt somehow that looking at him or saying anything would be invading his privacy.

Lunch was a bust. Neither of them had any appetite. They could barely speak. The cookies and sandwiches they normally relished were bland and tasteless. They paid with their food less than halfway gone, and Klavier didn’t even take issue with Machi paying the bill.

Machi finally looked at Klavier when they got back to the car. Klavier was buckling his seatbelt. The tear streaks were still obvious on his face. Sympathetic, Machi reached over to wipe the stain away. The motion became more like cupping his chin, became more like Machi leaning over and kissing him full on the lips. After a moment Machi pulled away, startled.

“I’m sorry.”

Klavier traced a line on Machi’s cheek and slowly pulled Machi’s sunglasses off. In a much more sudden movement, he took Machi by the ears and kissed him fiercely. His lips were salty and sweet from the traces of tears. When he lapped at Machi’s lips, Machi granted access. Their wasn’t much space in the car, but even when they shifted for more comfort they didn’t want to break lips or untangle tongues. Machi had his arms around Klavier’s neck. Klavier had his hands in Machi’s hair. Machi, attempting to climb into Klavier’s lap, bumped the horn several times. Klavier laughed, lifting his hands off Machi so he’d have more freedom to climb back into his seat. Machi’s glowed red with embarrassment.

“Let’s go to my place.” Machi was never so happy to see Klavier's easy, confident smile as right then.

“Yes,” said Machi, still trying to catch his breath. “Let’s.”


Though the Gavinners broke up four years ago, everything about Klavier’s apartment still screamed rock star. Machi found it hard to imagine his mild-tempered sort-of boyfriend living his daily life in this place. The bold purple and black and strong modern lines of the place verged on headache inducing. The lighting was very flattering, though. He wondered how many scandalous parties Klavier threw here.

He looked over the penthouse for the few moments it took to take off his shoes. Contrary to his once bad boy image, Klavier was rather particular about the pale plush carpeting. The thought of him ordering the likes of Daryan and the other Gavinners to take off their boots every time they came in made Machi smile a little.

Before he could complete that thought, Klavier finished hanging up their coats and kissed him again. They tangled. Machi tried to lead them to the couch. As he very nearly tripped over a coffee table, Klavier caught him. One hand was on his waist; the other catching the hand Machi threw out for balance. He spun Machi around. For a moment, as Machi looked up at him, they were dancing.

“Be careful, ja?”

Machi almost said it then, the dreaded words. Instead he kissed Klavier again, biting gently on his lower lip and sucking.

Klavier gave the most delightful little growl, rumbling in his stomach and vibrating against Machi’s skin. He pulled Machi close again just as Machi pushed forward. Their mouths met with hunger.

Machi let Klavier lead them to the couch. Climbed into his lap still kissing, tongue insistent, thrusting in. Klavier pulled away just to let them breathe a moment. They bumped foreheads, panting. Machi found himself thinking about how vividly blue Klavier’s eyes were. They were keen and deep like the ocean. Machi drank them, so grateful for his gaze.

Klavier kissed him once, twice, three times, slowly. Machi moved his hips unconsciously, brought them down against him.

“Oh, sorry!” He wasn’t sure why he apologized just then, why he got so red. So Klavier had an erection. That made two of them. Machi climbed off his lap, trying to decide whether the sensation he felt right now was a rushing, heady thrill or a cold sinking feeling.

“It’s perfectly fine, Machi. It’s a normal thing for men. May I kiss you again? I was quite enjoying it.”

“Don’t you want me to do something about it?” Machi reached a hand forward. Klavier batted it away.

“Nein. I want to take it slow with you, Machi. I think that’s best for us both.”

Machi tried to swallow the lump in his throat. He forced himself to look up from the sight of Klavier’s engorged package. “You don’t want to fuck me?”

Klavier shook his head. “Nein,” he said reasonably.

“Then why did you bring me here?” The acoustics in this place made Machi’s voice louder and more startling than it already was. Klavier lifted a hand, combing it through Machi’s hair. Machi backed away. “Daryan was right, I’m seducing you. Against your will, even. I won’t let it happen to you too! I’m so sorry, Klavier, it’s just that I like you so much. It’s like you said, I’m latching on because I don’t know any better…”

“Shh.” Klavier tilted Machi’s chin up with two fingers, and placed a feather-light kiss to Machi’s brow. “I said I will not fuck you, because I want to make love you to you. How are you seducing me? I’m the one who keeps making dates, keeps on finding excuses to see you. This is mutual.”

Even as he nodded in agreement, tears slipped down Machi’s face. Klavier stood up and walked away, and for several horrible moments Machi cried, feeling the tears cold on his face. He was certain Klavier left in disgust or indifference.

Klavier sat back down next to him on the couch, handing him a box of tissues and setting a wastebasket at his feet. Machi said several colorful curses in Borginian. “Why am I always crying with you?” he complained to Klavier in English. “Every other moment every day, every other time in my life, I can’t cry. Even when I want to.”

“Sometimes it takes another person to help you discover your heart. At least that is what Herr Edgeworth always says.”

Machi blew his nose delicately. He crumpled up the tissue in his fist then held it over the wastebasket, unclenching each finger until the lumpy ball dropped in. “In his case, two people, right?”

“Herr Wright is the one Herr Edgeworth is fondest of,” said Klavier, “And I believe that Frau Thalassa is fondest of him as well, though she and Herr Edgeworth have deep affection for one another. I am unclear on the specifics and prefer it that way. Though perhaps a little jealous of them.”

“Because you were always so keen on Lamiroir? Or is it because you think Mr. Edgeworth is handsome?” Machi tilted his head. It was an obvious fact that Edgeworth was good looking, yet not one that occurred to him very often. He only saw Edgeworth as a good friend, a companion on he and Klavier’s symphony trips and a confidante in the wee hours of the morning.

“I don’t like older partners. It’s more that I’m jealous of their love. Of course I’m part of the family, and all of them, as well as Fräulein Trucy, Herr Forehead and Fräulein Vera… they love me too. But if I could find just one person to love me as Herr Edgeworth and Herr Wright love each other, I think maybe the world wouldn’t seem so heavy.”

Machi almost said it again, those stupidly important words. Klavier played with his own hair and laughed self-effacingly. “Would you like to stay tonight? Just to spend the time? I’m afraid it’s gotten rather late.”

Machi shifted his weight uncomfortably. The thought of spending the night with Klavier was appealing. His erection was screaming at him to do something. He wondered how Klavier could stay so calm. Maybe it was something to do with being older. “I think I could stay, but I need to make a call.”

Machi took out his phone. The little silver G of his phone charm caught the light and made Klavier grin. Machi caught the look as the phone was ringing and smiled back at him.

“Hello?” A surprisingly masculine voice answered.

“Mr. Edgeworth?” Machi was so startled he nearly dropped the phone. “We were just talking about you! Can I speak to Lamiroir, please?” After all, it was her phone Machi called. Machi wondered if it was a habit in their household to just pick up whoever’s phone was nearby when it rang.

“Good things I hope. How is Klavier?”

“He’s fine. How did you know he’s with me?”

“Intuition. Thalassa? It’s your son.”

Rustling, and Thalassa answered the phone in Borginian. “Good evening, Machi.”

“How did you know it was me?”

Thalassa chuckled warmly. “Intuition. What do you need, dear one?”

“Well, I don’t know if you would, but I want to stay the night at Klavier’s, and I really don’t want to get a third degree from Joella. I’d understand if you think it’s wrong, but would you please cover for me and tell her I’m staying with you?”

“Machi, I won’t lie for you. You need to be honest with her, after all, you’re an adult.” All humor was sapped from Thalassa’s voice. The words held so much more weight for Machi in Borginian. “Besides, if it becomes a regular thing, don’t you think she will suspect you? She already knows you two are dating.”

“We’re not…”

“Tell the truth, Machi.”

Machi glanced over to Klavier. His blond sort-of-maybe-really boyfriend had risen and started to dust one of the many guitars he had on display. Slightly bent in concentration, the curve of his finely-shaped ass was clearly visible. Machi reddened. “Okay, mama.” This time it slipped out even though he wasn’t half-asleep. When they were working together Machi was so careful to say Lamiroir, but now that Lamiroir was Thalassa he couldn’t seem to adjust. Maybe ‘mama’ was suitable alternative. “I’ll talk to her.

“Be sure and use protection.”

“When I talk to Joella?” Machi blinked.

“With Klavier.”

“Oh, but we – we’re not going to – ohh.”

Klavier sauntered over, draping over the back of the couch. He pressed a kiss to Machi’s cheek, charmed by the vision of him flustered. Machi just about fainted. “K-Klavier!”

“Tell the truth, Machi,” Thalassa repeated. “Oh, and before I forget, tell him that everyone said yes to the Christmas party.”

Christmas party? “Okay. I thank you. Have a good night. Tell Mr. Edgeworth and Mr. Wright goodnight, too.” Machi shut his phone. “I… I guess I need to call Joella.”

Klavier nuzzled Machi’s hair. “Am I in the way?”

“No. Lamiroir said that everyone said yes to the Christmas party.”

Klavier nodded. Machi thought he must have immediately realized the mistake despite his calm body language. “What party is that?”

“The yearly one I throw. It’s sort of a tradition in my family.”

“You didn’t invite me.”

“I wasn’t sure you’d want to go. You always hate crowds, remember Steel Samurai World?” Contact was broken then as Klavier stood up to go examine his already-dusted guitar collection. He obviously didn’t want to face Machi.

“You didn’t invite me,” Machi repeated.

“You refused the first two years Thalassa invited you for me, I thought you had no interest. I didn’t want to be rejected. Not by you.”

“It’s different now and you know it. You didn’t invite me! Why not? I would come. I want to meet everyone. Mr. Edgeworth will be there, and Thalassa’s children, and Mr. Wright… I’m doing so much better. I want to be part of it now. Why wouldn’t you want me there?”

Klavier still wasn’t facing him. He walked over to the window, leaning his arm against the glass and resting his forehead there. “I wasn’t sure where we’d stand by then,” he admitted.

“In a month or so? Are you planning to dump me?”

“Nein.”

“Then what is it? Are you embarrassed? You don’t want your friends knowing you date someone young as I?”

“Nein. Machi, it’s only that… there’s going to be a certain fräulein there and she doesn’t know about us yet. I don’t want to hurt her.”

“Your ex girlfriend. The one who left you for her work.” Machi stood up. “Tell the truth,” Machi echoed Thalassa’s words to Klavier in Borginian for emphasis. “Did you truly break up with her? Was I just a placeholder?”

“We agreed to call it off while she went to Germany, implying we might get back together if we wanted to in the future. I even told her I’d visit her, but never did. You weren’t a placeholder. You were unexpected. I never thought I could like a guy so much. Not one that cared for me in return, at least.”

“I am not hearing this. I am not.” Machi stomped toward the door. “I can’t believe I was about to have sex with you! Daryan was right, you think the world revolves around you.”

“You still listen to him? Don’t you have an opinion of me of your own?” This was a voice Klavier never used on Machi. No, it was that critical voice he typically reserved for Daryan, the one that was so sharp as to be painful.

Machi stood still, facing the door. “I thought I was falling for you, you told me I couldn’t. I thought we were a couple; you don’t want to invite me to your big event because you worry about what your ex is thinking. Tell me, what should I think of you? What should my opinion be?”

He climbed into his sneakers and crouched to tie them.

“It’s bad for prosecutors to just hand out answers like that.” Klavier spoke to his back. That lightness he adopted suddenly grated at Machi like nails on a chalkboard.

“This isn’t a courtroom, Klavier.” Machi tightened that last knot and ran out the door, leaving it swinging open behind him. When he entered the elevator at the end of the hall, he was all too aware that Klavier didn’t follow him.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Machi timed each self-berating word with the fall of his footsteps. He realized his feet were slowing. Maybe he should go apologize. Running out like that was awfully immature.

It was dark now. Machi scanned the street for the familiar sign marking a bus stop. Did buses even stop in this part of town? He was sure if he caught one downtown and transferred there, he could get home before curfew. Joella wouldn’t have to know about this mess at all.

Machi shivered. Like an idiot, he left his jacket at Klavier’s. He backed onto the curb, staring up at Klavier’s building. He couldn’t see Klavier’s window at the top, but he could imagine it well enough. Klavier struck such pretty poses. Had he even bothered to close the door yet?

As he stared skywards, the heavens opened up and sent him a message. The message was that he should have remembered his jacket.

It began to rain, hard and cold. In mere seconds every layer of Machi’s clothes were drenched. Machi just stood there in a stupor for far too long, feeling the rain drips on his bare skin beneath his shirt and running down his sullen face. His teeth began to chatter. Hugging himself ineffectively, he began to walk down the street, hugging himself. Machi began to wish he’d worn something other than his smartest jeans and polo to face Daryan. He should’ve worn a scuba outfit instead. After all, it had been threatening to rain since this morning.

Machi felt the umbrella before he saw it. He didn’t turn around right away, because he knew who would be there holding it over his head, murmering with that quiet German accent. “You forgot your coat. You’ll catch your death out here.”

Machi hugged himself. He put on a show of not talking, but it was really just because his teeth were chattering so hard. Machi had a problem gaining weight, naturally thin and small from childhood. His circulation left much to be desired. He was cold even in the early fall and spring and never left the house without his wool coat. Klavier offered him the coat now. Machi didn’t turn to look at him.

“I’ll j-just g-get it w-wet.”

“Put it on at least while I take you back. I’ll put your clothes in the dryer and drive you home.”

“B-but I m-must be home b-before curfew.”

“And if you came home in this state, what would Frau Joella think of me?” Klavier put his arms around Machi. They were warm, and Machi didn’t resist them. He felt Klavier’s hair and his mouth near his neck, that lovely clean smell of his French cologne and fancy shampoo.

“Sh-shouldn’t you be m-more worried about wh-what I think?”

“Come inside, Machi.”

Before Machi could make his reply, a strong gust of wind came and knocked their umbrella away. Balancing the umbrella between his neck and shoulders to embrace Machi was romantic, but subjecting them both to the downpour was decidedly less so.

Machi turned to look at Klavier and burst out laughing. “You look like a drowning dog.”

“I think you mean a drowned rat.” Never one to take attacks on his appearance with much dignity, Klavier sniffed. He went after the umbrella and made a bigger mess of himself as he trod in a particularly deep puddle. Machi laughed, tugging on his jacket.

“No, I meant a d-dog. Like a d-dachshund.”

“A dachshund? Can’t I at least be a Boston terrier?” Klavier played at being hurt, finally retrieving the umbrella.

“N-no, now let’s go inside before I call you a Bichon Frise.” When Klavier put the umbrella over their heads, Machi added, “Wh-what’s the point?”

“Maybe I just want an excuse to be close to you,” said Klavier with a smirk.

“Stop b-being charming, I’m st-still angry with you.”

“Ja, ja, be angry, be angry. It will keep you nice and warm.” Klavier let them back into the apartment building. Machi said a silent prayer of thanks for the sinful excesses of this first world nation. The heat was heavenly.

“Your lips are turning blue. First thing, you’re getting a hot bath.” In the elevator, Klavier rubbed Machi’s arms, trying to induce some warmth and friction. Machi couldn’t tell if it was making things any better. He felt as damp and icy as ever.

“St-still mad at you,” Machi reminded him.

“Ja, ja, be very mad. What other thing shall I tell you to keep you nice and hotly angry? Ah, I know. The real reason I don’t want to tell my former girlfriend about you is because she knows you, and she will say you’re too good for me.”

“She what?”

“You remember Detective Skye? It broke her heart when you were framed for murder, but she could do nothing but report the crime as she saw it.”

“Snackoo lady? You dated snackoo lady? For how long? Did you fuck her?” Klavier’s tactic seemed to be working. Machi’s voice was raised, and he was too shocked to remember he was shivering.

“Two and half years, we were serious. Thinking about marriage, and she just left. Said she was sick of everyone she loved keeping so much distance.” Skipping quickly past the hurt, Klavier said crisply, “I do not fuck, Machi, only make love.”

“You made love with snackoo lady. You almost married snackoo lady. That is very weird. You’re weird.”

The rule of shoes at the door suddenly suspended, Klavier and Machi trudged to the bathroom. Machi hugged the damp wool coat around him while Klavier ran him a bath. The bathroom matched the rest of the house – it was huge and modern. Both the stand up shower and the Jacuzzi bath could fit half a dozen people in. Machi wondered if it ever had. He had a hard time imagining Klavier doing those kinds of rock star things, no matter what his apartment was like. If he had to be honest, imagining him with snackoo lady was easier.

When the bath was full, Klavier peeled off every piece of Machi’s clothes reverently. He pressed a kiss to his hand, his wrist and his shoulder. Then he helped Machi climb in.

Machi put his arm around him and kissed him in thanks. Sheepishly, he laughed and pulled away. “I’ll get you wet.”

“Couldn’t much worse, ja? Soak a bit, wash your hair if you like. I’ll make us tea.”

Machi watched him go. Stared at the ripple of his muscles beneath damp clothes. He wondered if he really should still be angry. He decided he couldn’t hold onto it. Klavier had his own sets of problems and was studiously trying to avoid them. Knowing his perfectionist nature, he was probably doing a good enough job beating himself up for his shortcomings for the both of them.

Machi sighed, feeling the warmth and color return to his body. He slipped backwards in the bath, lying down under the water.

The memory sprang up without warning.

The water is boiling hot. Beneath it, he can see swim trunks and hairy, fat legs. The hand won’t let up. He opens his mouth to scream and there’s only water. Water in his mouth and eyes. Chlorine burning. Hot. Too hot.

Machi sat up quickly in the bath, choking and coughing. The splashing noises echoed through the bathroom. Machi stared at the marble tiles and the silver fixtures. The room was massive and cold despite the steam coming off the bath. Machi lay back against the edge of the tub, staring at the ceiling, wondering if he would ever be normal.

He wondered if Klavier had these visions, too. He was afraid to ask.

“I brought you pajamas.” Klavier knocked gently on the bathroom door, rousing Machi from his daze. Funny he would be so polite to Machi’s nudity when he stripped him minutes before. “They’re a bit big for you, but it’s what I have, ja?”

Klavier was dressed in pajamas, two mismatched pieces from different sets. The bottom was black, printed over and over with the Pink Princess label; top was pinstriped in green and blue. Machi smiled widely. Seeing a mismatched Klavier felt like some sort of privilege.

“Your phone went off but I didn’t answer it.”

“Good. I’m really getting sick of their habit of doing that over there.”

“Frau Joella then called me, and I explained that we got caught in the rain while we were out on a walk. She yelled at me for letting you run around without an umbrella then asked me if you were staying over, I said I didn’t know.”

“I should call her.”

“Ja. Towel?”

“Please.”

Klavier threw one at his head. Machi stood up, drying himself. Klavier’s towels were fluffy like hotel towels, nothing like the ancient threadbare ones at his house. They smelled a little like Klavier, too.

Klavier sat on the toilet, calmly staring at the ceiling as he waited for Machi to get dressed.

“You can look at me if you want,” said Machi, climbing out of the tub.

“Not a good idea. If I look, I’ll want to touch, and you’re still angry with me.”

“It’s okay. I’m still a little hurt, but I can see you didn’t mean to do that. So as long as I really am invited to the party, I can forgive you.”

Klavier looked over to Machi and smiled, relieved. “Of course I want you there. If you don’t mind being yelled at and possibly barraged with snackoos.”

“What makes you think she’ll throw them at me? You’re the one who’ll be in trouble with her.” Machi strode over, knotting the towel at his waist. “Maybe you’ll need me there to protect you.” He looped arms around Klavier’s neck.

“Ema can be awfully scary,” Klavier warned him, returning the embrace.

“I’m scarier. I’ll punch her in the face.”

“You’d never be so vulgar.” Klavier laughed to his bare collarbone.

“Don’t be so sure. I punched Daryan today.”

“…Surprising.”

“Between you having some torrid affair with snackoo lady and me beating up Daryan, I wonder who of us is more so?”

“I think you’re exaggerating a little.”

“I’m sorry sir, I don’t speak English,” Machi said in coy Borginian.

“Have I already made you forget? And I haven’t even turned my charm on to the full extent.”

“I’m not afraid of your full extent.”

“You shouldn’t be afraid,” agreed Klavier. He bit Machi softly on the neck and sucked for a long moment. He breathed and licked over that tender spot. “But you should be prepared, ja?”