#klapollo week

Apollo latches on in a blink of an eye, face smushing against a shirt covered clavicle, arms holding tight around a broad ribcage. Klavier's arms don't move, and so he is quick to clarify, "touch me wherever. I don't care."

After only a small pause, warm arms return the favor, wrapping around his shoulders and pulling him sorrowfully close. He can feel Klavier rest a cheek on his head, and a hand slowly rises to hold the bare skin of the back of his neck. He can't even bother to bristle, he is just relieved those callused palms are taking what they need.

Because he is very desperately offering.

After a modest amount of time, Klavier loosens his grip, giving Apollo the okay to let go, but he doesn't. He doesn't move an inch, even daring to hold tighter. He feels a small tremble under his fingertips, against his squashed nose. The attorney doesn't need to look to know what is causing them, and when Klavier's hold finally, slowly returns, he speaks at last.