So Klingt Liebe

Once they got to the bedroom, Klavier undressed and slipped into the guise of a practiced lover. He wore it as easily as a beat up, shapeless housecoat, like it was the most common thing. Machi was stunned into the silence at the sight of Klavier naked. He was every bit the golden god his fans still praised him for being to this day. His muscles were chiseled and taut, his tanned skin seemed to glow and his hair was a halo rather than a mess despite the night’s weather. Yet it was the smile he wore for Machi that completed him and made this moment intimate reality.

Machi ran his hands over Klavier’s chest, learning its lines. The chill and moisture from his clothes still lingered on his skin, hardening his nipples. He delighted at pinching there, earning a feline growl from Klavier.

Klavier gathered him up in his arms then, kissing him breathless then laying him over the bed. The bed suited the rest of the apartment, big and bold as it was – but Machi was too distracted to think of the meaning of the disconnect between his boyfriend’s serene personality and taste for interior décor.

Machi tugged at the red sheets and stared at the vaulted ceiling as Klavier languidly memorized his neck and collarbone with his tongue. “You’re driving me crazy,” Machi muttered. It was a cold anxiety in the pit of his stomach rather than the heat of arousal that made him complain. “Just hurry up and fuck me.”

“Now?” Klavier gazed at him, deep blue concern. “Surely you know I do otherwise. If I did such a thing, I fear I’d finish quickly and leave you unsatisfied.”

Something about those words sent a jolt through Machi. He swallowed hard. “No, I like it like that.”

Klavier rubbed a circle over Machi’s nipple, seeming to pull the gasp from him with a single thumb. “Have you ever known anything else?”

“No, but,” Machi was having trouble speaking as Klavier touched with tongue instead of fingers, “I, ah, never, um, saw the need…”

He cried out too loudly when Klavier applied teeth. Klavier looked up at him, genuinely concerned. “Machi, you need to relax.”

“I can’t relax when you do things like that to me!” Machi blustered, sure that his face could take up a secondary profession as a brazier.

“Relax,” Klavier said, kissing him. “Relax. Breathe. We can take our time.”

Machi nodded like fluttering and calmed his breathing. He still felt keyed up, squirming and fidgeting.

“I have an idea.”

Klavier rose from the bed, sauntering out of the room. Machi took this opportunity to ogle his finely sculpted ass. He wouldn’t have thought such a thing possible, but it seemed Klavier was even more confident without clothes on. He strode down the halls of his penthouse like a lion.

He returned with a bottle of white wine and two glasses.

“I don’t really like wine, besides, I’m not old enough,” Machi said, taking his glass. “Is the district’s finest prosecutor honestly giving alcohol to a minor?”

“You are an adult in the eyes of the law,” said Klavier, pouring the wine.

“And in your eyes?”

“You are beautiful.”

“But am I adult?”

“You are Machi. Believe me, it’s not your youth I find appealing. I’m not…” Klavier turned to set the bottle of wine on the dresser. He tasted his wine then set his glass down rather than finish his sentence. “This is eiswein. A very sweet dessert wine from frozen grapes.”

“Icy wine?”

“Try it.”

Machi sipped it, making a face reflectively before realizing – “Oh, I like this! It goes down easily, like juice only stronger.” He took another drink.

“I thought you would. I drank a lot of it when I was young, before I developed my palate.” Klavier gazed into the past without expression. Machi kissed him to pull him back into the future. Klavier smiled and hugged him closer. Machi climbed into his lap.

“Can I have another glass?”

“You gulped that down,” Klavier chuckled. “I’ll give you one more. Don’t drink it so fast. It will catch up to you.” He stroked Machi’s back, tracing the line of his spine.

“It will not!” Machi laughed. Of course it already had, but who could fault Machi for wanting more of this warm, pleasant feeling?

“You’re so thin,” said Klavier. “The alcohol will affect you quickly, especially since you don’t drink.”

“Maybe I should eat snackoos. Grow a butt like Detective Skye.”

“Machi, engel, hasi,” Klavier punctuated each pet name with gentle fingertips, tucking Machi’s hair behind his ear. “Never, ever mention her in bed again.” He pressed the admonishment to Machi’s ear. “It ruins the mood.”

Shifting gingerly with Machi in his lap, Klavier poured Machi another glass of wine and began to nurse his own.

“You’re not drinking.”

“It’s a little sweet for my taste, actually,” said Klavier with a touch of regret. “I’m afraid I’ve outgrown it.” He drank a little more, though. Machi watched his mouth, his throat, and thought it lovely. He kissed Klavier there, over his Adam’s apple. He climbed and shifted, trying to get comfortable, when something brushed his leg that caught his attention.

“Do you tan naked?” Machi asked Klavier.

“Ja. Why do you ask?”

“It’s the same color as everywhere else.” Machi might have only meant to point, but he couldn’t resist the urge to touch Klavier’s cock, bringing it to life. He studied its growth with fascination, feeling himself stir as Klavier did. “Well, almost.”

“The first time I attempted it, I got the nastiest sunburn. And I was too horny to do anything but cause myself sadness and trouble when I tried to apply lotion to it.”

Machi collapsed into giggles, falling backwards onto the bed. He propped himself up one elbow, still drinking his wine. “You sunburned your dick? Wait, does that mean you laid out in the sun with it just… hanging out for everyone to see? I thought you used a tanning bed.”

“Ja, though I stopped that practice when the Gavinners started having a following. Luckily the paparazzi never got a picture.” Klavier stretched out on his side beside Machi, stroking his hip. “The trick is to be careful. After all, the skin there is delicate.”

“That poor thing, it’s been through a lot, hasn’t it?” Machi’s hand went back to Klavier’s cock, pumping it slowly. “Maybe I should give it a kiss.”

“I assure you it’s feeling no pain currently,” Klavier smirked. “But it would not object.”

Machi tried to situate himself but couldn’t properly do so until Klavier snorted and took the wine glass from his hand. Machi inched downwards until he was face-to-face with Klavier’s half-hard, uncircumcised cock. He ran his hand over Klavier’s hip and down the smooth skin of his thigh. “You shave your legs.” Of course he noticed it before, but like this it was so much more punctuated. “You shave… everything, don’t you?”

“I like to look good naked.” Klavier was a little embarrassed by this admonition, but not defensive.

“Were you expecting to get laid?” Machi looked up at him curiously. They had never discussed sex or their relationship status, but he had assumed Klavier currently wasn’t getting any.

“Nein. It’s become habit after so long.” Realizing that hint of self-consciousness in Machi’s eyes, he petted the younger man’s hair. “There’s only you. And you defy expectation.”

“That’s what everyone always says about me,” said Machi, pressing the promised kiss to his cock head. He pulled playfully at the foreskin with his lips, coaxing him into further wakefulness with a firm hand. He licked and toyed until Klavier was fully hard, then lowered hot, moist lips down over him.

Klavier uttered words that Machi recognized as curses. Pleased, he sucked and licked, creating the wet friction he knew would please Klavier. Klavier twitched in his mouth, sighed and tugged his hair, gifted him with the bitter sign of readiness. Machi moaned deep in his throat, going maddeningly hard at the very idea of it all.

Walkürenritt sounded distantly, echoing from the bathroom across the hall. Machi knew immediately his phone was going off, jerked his head up and bumped Klavier. The wine glass Klavier still held was dumped all over his back and shoulder.

“Pig-fucking donkeys in hell!” Machi swore in Borginian, tripping on his own feet to make it to the bathroom before the phone went to voicemail. He caught on the last ring. “Hello, Joella? I know, I’m so sorry.”

“I understood about half of that, and none of it was very polite,” mused Klavier, leaning in the doorway.

“It won’t happen again, I’ll call if I’m staying over. I’ll see you tomorrow, bye.” Machi snapped the phone shut, shoving it back in his damp pocket. He looked over to Klavier. “I’m sorry.”

“You’re cute when you’re annoyed.”

Machi stared at Klavier lounging in the doorway, and for one long, frustrated moment wondered if anything ever really rattled him.

“Now, now, don’t make that face.”

Machi sighed. “You spilled my wine all over me. Now I need to bathe again.”

“Is it that bad? Let me see.” Klavier appeared in his space and gently urged Machi to turn and face the bathroom wall while he inspected the spill.

“It’s getting sticky,” Machi groused. Then gasped when Klavier swept his tongue across his shoulder blade. “I – I thought you didn’t like the eiswein. You outgrew it.”

“I think I prefer the adult version.” Klavier seemed determined to clean up his mess, lingering over Machi's smooth, wine-stained muscles until he tasted only the sweetness of skin. His hands rested at Machi’s hips, callused fingers brushing there. He breathed steam over Machi’s neck, heating what was already dampened. This must have pushed some accidental button, because suddenly Machi thought he might turn to jelly with the slightest touch. The wine made the world far too sensual and sweet.

Then Klavier reached around to stroke him. He knew Klavier was hard too, tried to move, get leverage against him, but he was just out of reach. “I wish you could see yourself right now,” Klavier confessed to him. “Or you could understand the German – you are – so lovely.” His accent grew thicker and rougher with each moment, contrasting the maddening softness of his touch. “The sound of you, the taste and smell… you are made of such fine bones, your skin is so very white… I think I love your shoulders best, the shape of them, they need wings…” Klavier bit Machi suddenly, earning a yelp that startled them both out of reverie. “If I go on, I’ll write a song.”

“It would be a good song,” Machi panted. One hand held the wrist that stroked him. He leaned against the other, flattened to the wall.

“But I don’t want to write a song, I want more to drink.”

“The wine’s in the bedroom.”

“I don’t want anymore wine.” Klavier let go then, making Machi whimper. He turned the shorter man around and then dropped to his knees in front of him.

Machi wanted to protest, but the look on Klavier’s face was so sincere he found himself tracing the line of his jaw instead. The words of resistance seemed more like apology. “I’ve never… no one’s ever…”

He was hard but not ashamed. Klavier looked up at him with adoration, teasing him with fingers so gentle Machi could hardly stand it. “Then I’ll be your first. I’m glad.”

Klavier drank him deeply. Machi’s fingers gripped his hair too hard, but he couldn’t seem to untangle as his hips bucked and Klavier accepted his demands. When Machi’s knees gave way Klavier carefully pushed him to sit on the toilet, urging legs over shoulders and not even seeming to stop.

Machi was utterly incoherent while some tiny voice in the back of his mind praised the discovery of why blowjobs were such a big deal. When Machi managed to open his eyes (he’d closed them?) he noticed movement beside him. He glanced over to his reflection of his naked upper half and the often disappearing back of Klavier’s head. Machi looked down at him, saw his cock moving past those sumptuous lips. Klavier met his gaze, eyes loving and mouth totally full. Machi pulled his hair and came immediately.

When Klavier drank all Machi could give, he stood over his ruins and kissed him just beside his mouth. “Lovely.”

“You have a little…” Machi licked the little sticky trail that dribbled from Klavier’s mouth and then laughed, pulling him close for a deep kiss. “I think I like it better than the eiswein,” he said, licking Klavier’s lips, drunk and delirious.

Klavier gathered him up and carried him to bed in what Machi considered to be a rather unnecessary show of manly strength. He laid Machi out on the bed gingerly, then sat down. After rooting around in the nightstand, he found a dog-eared notebook and pen and began to scribble in it intently. Machi sat up, throwing an arm over him and reading over his shoulder.

“So klingt liebe? You’re really writing a song. Wow.”

“It’s been years since I’ve been so inspired,” said Klavier, pushing Machi’s hair out of his face. “You shouldn’t watch me while I’m working, though.”

“And you shouldn’t write when I should be repaying you.”

“If you want to repay me, bring me my guitar. Or lay down so I can use you like a desk.” Klavier was clearly teasing, but Machi decided to take him up on his suggestion anyway, and lay across his lap. Klavier promptly set the notebook on his back, continuing to write. While he seemed perfectly devoted to his task, Machi could feel Klavier growing harder trapped underneath his chest.

Machi could only endure a few minutes of this kind of temptation and had soon shifted from serving as a desk to giving Klavier an intensely thorough blowjob. Luckily, Klavier was all too ready to set aside his pen and paper and receive the pleasure. He threw his head back, breathing softly and rubbing the back of Machi’s neck appreciatively.

“How do I do it,” Machi spoke between licks as he worked Klavier with insistent hands. “How do I undo you like you undid me?”

“I’m not sure what you’re asking me.”

Machi stopped and looked up at Klavier. He was getting hard again from the friction against the sheets, from the weight of Klavier’s cock against his lips. “Let’s make love.”

Klavier nodded quickly. “Lay down, I’ll get you ready.” He got lube from the nightstand. Machi wondered what other essentials he could possibly keep in there.

“No.” Machi grabbed it from his hand. “Let me… let me do this. You watch.”

Klavier swallowed audibly. “If you like.”

Machi warmed the lube in his hands, spreading it over and in deep, working the muscles until they gave way to his fingers. He uttered a curse, feeling his face go hot. Klavier watched him, stroking his proudly erect cock.

Wetting his lips, Machi climbed atop Klavier. Both had been generous with the lube, and guiding Klavier to the needed place was at first a little messy. Those concerns completely disappeared as Machi bore down and buried Klavier deep in him.

Both uttered profanity as Machi adjusted, and again when he began to move. They were separate and lost in their own languages, yet moved in complete synch. Machi gripped Klavier’s shoulders. Klavier gripped his hips. Machi bore down. Klavier moved up. The mattress creaked beneath them.

Desperation colored their movements as Machi rode him faster, the strikes to his prostate ushering out choked cries. He had forgotten this feeling, this fullness bordering on being rendered. He kissed Klavier’s mouth and bit him. Klavier gave a feral, frustrated growl and pushed Machi off him. Tables were turned and Machi was on his back, legs forced wide as Klavier slammed him into the bed. Machi held onto him for dear life, the friction and Klavier’s ferocity already close to getting him off.

“Please,” pleaded Machi, though he was past the point of being able to elaborate what he begged for. He resorted to old tactics, wanted the peak, wanted Klavier’s expression.

“Look at you,” Klavier purred. “Just look at you. You’re so ready. Aren’t you?”

Machi squirmed and cried out a word he hoped sounded affirmative. Klavier took Machi’s hand by the wrist and placed it between them. “Let go.”

Machi nodded and handled himself vigorously. Klavier lost all restraint then, doing something that was a lot more like fucking than making love, not that this was the time to argue semantics. As he came for the second time that night, white fireworks exploded in front of Machi’s eyes. He missed out learning what Klavier’s face looked like when he came inside him.

For a long time, they were completely silent, gulping air in the stunned post-coital moments. Then Klavier pulled out and gathered Machi in his arms, kissing him gently. “Sheisse…” he laughed nervously. “I sort of lost it there; it’s been years for me. Are you okay? I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

Machi gave a laugh that sounded horribly hollow in his ears. “No, it was amazing. You couldn’t hurt me. Not you.”

Klavier frowned, brow knotting. “Really, are you okay?”

Machi nodded mutely.

“Answer me. Please?”

Machi shook his head no.

“Please Machi, please, engel, don’t leave me, not now, not like this.” Machi saw the genuine fear in Klavier’s eyes and tried to swim past the cold that now threatened him. He touched Klavier’s face.

Klavier turned away, hiding his face between his arm and the pillow. Machi stared at his back, drawing little circles and lines on it with his fingertips. Klavier was crying without making a sound. Tears streaked down Machi’s face, but he couldn’t find a voice to say any words at all.

Eventually Klavier and Machi fell asleep back-to-back, twisted in grimy sheets. Machi kept finding himself awake, listening to the even sounds of Klavier’s breathing. He’d forgotten how difficult it was for him to relax with someone in his bed. Still, fitful sleep overcame him occasionally. He dreamed.

Machi is sitting in a white room with absolutely no features. He’s looking for something important, but he can’t remember what it is. Then he hears the telephone ring faintly in the distance. He searches everywhere for that phone. He knows he needs to pick it up. If he doesn’t answer it, someone will die.

Machi woke up troubled and stumbled to the bathroom to empty his bladder. It was morning and the dim light of dawn illuminated the apartment. Machi pulled on the pajamas Klavier gave him to wear last night. As predicted, they were too big.

Not really wanting to face the mess in the bed, Machi thought to go to the kitchen. As he trudged down the hall, the sound of a phone ringing caused him to nearly leap out of his skin. It was coming from Klavier’s office.

Half asleep and remembering his dream, Machi stumbled into the office. It was as garishly modern as the rest of the penthouse, though the pinky-blue light softened its lines. The phone continued to ring. He wondered if it rang before and informed his dream.

As Machi reached for the phone on the desk, his elbow bumped a picture frame. He picked it up, momentarily transfixed.

He recognized Klavier immediately, though he was quite young, ten years old or so. He was not really smiling, and stood slightly apart from the blond family group that posed next to him. The parents were unremarkable, blond and graying with smiles like plastic. In the center stood a tall, handsome teenager with familiar hair. He wore glasses and a sickeningly peaceful smile. He was touching the small of Klavier’s back, despite Klavier edging away.

Machi knew this man and his name and he felt like crying for that little boy, Klavier. He picked up the picture frame and brushed his lips over the cold glass, as if a kiss could rewrite the past.

The phone was still ringing. Without thinking, Machi picked it up.

“Hello?”

“Hello? Wait, this isn’t Prosecutor Gavin.”

“…Detective Skye?”

“…Machi Tobaye? Why are you—”

“I thought you were still in Germany, Klavier said…”

“Is he there? I need him at the scene of a crime.” Detective Skye was all business. At least she wasn’t munching.

“Oh.” All at once Machi woke up. He realized he was standing in the center of Klavier’s office holding a picture frame and a phone Klavier used for work, and none of those things seemed like very good ideas.

A naked figure darkened the door of the office. He spoke with terseness unknown to Machi, and crossed the room in a couple of steps. “What are you doing in here? Don’t touch anything!”

“That sounds like him,” said Detective Skye, “I’d recognize that tantrum anywhere.”

Klavier’s anger would’ve sent the surface of the sun into an ice age. He spoke through gritted teeth. “Put that down and get out of here. Don’t you have more sense than to touch my things?”

“I’m sorry,” Machi stammered. “I wasn’t thinking.”

“Obviously not!” Klavier snapped, snatching the phone from him. Machi backed towards the door. “Leave the photo!” he barked.

Machi set it down quickly on a bookshelf and ran to the bathroom. He climbed into his clothes. They were still damp and sitting in a heap from the night before. Shivering, he quietly let himself out of the apartment. The sky was brightening. It would be cold today.

Quando m'en vo rang tinny from his pocket, but Machi just ignored it until it stopped. He found a bus stop and sat on the bench, sore, exhausted and bereft. The bus didn’t come for nearly an hour.

*This chapter I will always consider to be "the chapter where Klavier and Machi take forever to have sex. Don't ever let it be implied you have total control of your characters, because they kept almost getting the point of doing it and getting interrupted until the end. Ah well, was the payoff good?