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Lovestruck

Summary:

Based off the sentence prompt I found on Tumblr "'Fuck, I feel like I got hit by a car... Wait I did? And it was your car?'"

This story is pure, absolute fluff. Following his first case, Apollo is on the way to Wright's law agency to accept his job offer- only to get hit by a car. Fortunately, he's pretty much fine. Unfortunately, the one that hit him was Klavier Gavin. Even more unfortunately, everyone seems to have somehow gotten the idea that they're dating.

Life's funny that way.

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Work Text:

    “Mein Gott, are you okay?”

    Apollo drifts back into consciousness at the sound an unfamiliar voice, and is instantly struck by a number of concerning things, the unfamiliar voice being number one. The second being that it appears to be the middle of the day, and he's lying on the… Sidewalk? No wonder he's aching all over. And now that he thinks about it, the casual use of German should probably concern him too, given that as last he can recall he was an ocean away from Germany.

    He peels open his eyes, and- well, at first doesn't see much at all. His vision is blurry and he everything seems to have an even blurrier doppelgänger attached to it. And when his vision finally clears just enough to see and the fog in his head dissipates enough for him to grasp his surroundings, he sees his boss leaned over him, looking, well, pretty concerned.

    No, not his boss, he realizes. Kristoph isn't his employer anymore, and even more than that he's been arrested. This can't be him- and yet, the man hovering over him looks almost identical to Kristoph- they could be twins. Except that he's fairly certain he would never see Kristoph with actual emotion on his face like the kind etched on the man’s face, and the clothing is all wrong- way too attention-grabbing.

    “Are you okay?” The man repeats his earlier question, slower this time as though concerned about Apollo’s ability to understand.

    “I feel,” Apollo groans. “Like I've been hit by a truck.”

    The man above him laughs hesitantly before reaching out and helping Apollo into a sitting position. And maybe it has something to do with waking up on the side of a road and feeling like roadkill, but Apollo thinks his laugh is almost melodious.

    “Well, it wasn't a truck,” the man explains. His voice has a fairly thick German accent- it sounds pleasant, but it isn't helping Apollo’s suspicions that he somehow ended up in another country without knowing how. “But you may have collided with my car.”

    Apollo stares at the man for a moment, letting his words sink in. “You hit me with your car.”

    The man grimaces. “I'm incredibly sorry. In my defense, it could also be said you hit my car with your body.”

    His words startle a laugh out of Apollo, and the man smiles at him in return. He reaches into one of his coat pockets and pulls out a scrap of paper and a pen, scribbling something down hurriedly before pressing it into Apollo’s hand. “Do you need me to call an ambulance?”

    Apollo shakes his head- he feels fine as far as he can tell- or at least, as well as on can feel after being hit by a car. “I don't think I'm that badly hurt.”

    The man nods. “If you're sure. I'm afraid I have to go- I'm already late for work. I wrote my name and cell phone number on that paper, so if you need insurance information, just call.” The man looks him over once more. “You're sure you don't need me to call someone?”

   Apollo shakes his head as he climbs to his feet. The man looks hesitant still, but finally climbs back in his car- which now, Apollo realizes is a pretty nice car. Some people have way too much money- and speaking of money, that's where he was headed. Turns out getting your last boss arrested doesn't make you a popular choice to hire- and he needs money now. So, time to swallow his pride and take Wright’s offer.

    He can't be worse than Kristoph.

*****

    “So what are the chances that both of us would get hit by a car in pretty much the same day?”

    “I don't know whether I'm more concerned for you or for him,” Clay responds from his place on Apollo’s couch. “But hey, at least neither of you were seriously injured.”

    “My wallet is plenty injured,” Apollo grumbles. “What with Wright expecting me to work for free.”

     “Hey, you could always try suing the guy that hit you with his car for extra cash,” Clay offers.

    “On what grounds?”

    “Emotional damage? Just work up some tears, I'm sure the judge will buy it,” Clay laughs.

    “Tempting as that is, I think I'm going to pass.”

    “What was the guy's name? I'll kick his ass for you if you want,” Clay offers.

    “I don't think that's necessary,” Apollo reassures him. He starts digging the piece of paper out of his pocket- Clay’s questions made him realize he never actually looked at it. It’s crumpled from being in his pocket all day, and it takes him a moment to flatten it out. “Damn, this guy wrote his name like he was writing an autograph or something. It’s hard to read,” he squints at the paper. “...something… Gavin?”

    “Let me see that!” Clay exclaims, practically snatching it from his hand.”Oh my God, Apollo, this is Klavier Gavin’s signature!”

    “Aside from being related to my former boss, is that supposed to mean something to me?”

    “You uncultured swine,” Clay rolls his eyes. “You’re really telling me that you’ve never heard of The Gavinners?”

    “No?”

    “Aw come on, you’re an attorney! You of all people should know. They’re a law-themed rock band. They’re incredibly popular. Are you sure it was Klavier Gavin, and not someone messing with you?”

    “Well,” Apollo says thoughtfully. “He did look an awful lot like Kristoph. I would guess they’re related- and from the way he dressed, I would guess obnoxious rock star.”

    “Obnoxious? Apollo, The Gavinners are amazing!”

    “He did hit me with a car,” Apollo points out. “And what kind of name is The Gavinners anyway? How narcissistic.”

    “You just don’t appreciate fine art. I would pay to have Klavier Gavin hit me with his car.”

    “Of course you would,” he mutters.

    “Well, you have to call him,” Clay insists. “And when you meet him again, make sure to take me with you- I want his autograph too.”

    “It’s not an autograph- you know, never mind. Sure, why not?”

*****

    He ends up, though he doesn’t know how, with a dinner date for the following day after his court date. Not a date date, he insists when Clay squeals, just a meeting. He only called because Clay insisted- didn’t even know what he was going to say- and then the next thing he knew the man, Klavier, was maintaining that the least he could do after hitting Apollo with his car was buy him dinner.

    Apollo wasn’t one to turn down a free meal, anyway.

    Which is how he ended up standing in the defendant’s lobby with Trucy the next day, half focused on the trial ahead and half on his upcoming date that wasn’t a date.

    “You okay, Polly?” Trucy asks, bouncing on her feet. “You look distracted. You gotta get your head in the game for this trial!”

    Apollo sighs, rubbing his head and wincing at the residual ache in his body from the accident just the day before. He’s pretty bruised, but more or less unharmed, thankfully. “Wright’s not coming today?”

    “Nope, just you and me! He said you could probably do it.”

    Apollo’s just struggling to bite back a retort when the door swings open, and the trial begins.

    He and Trucy walk to their place behind the defense stand, and across from them-

    -it’s the guy that hit him with his car yesterday.

    The shock must show on his face, because Trucy gives him a look.

    “Head in the game, Polly! What’s up?” She gestures over at Klavier, who looks equally caught off guard. “Do you know this guy? He looks like a prince.”

     “Well, he hit me with his car yesterday,” he manages to say when he gets his voice back.

    “What! Trying to eliminate the defense?”

    “I’m pretty sure he didn’t know who I was, Trucy,” Apollo snorts.

    The judge bangs his gavel once, and Apollo is startled out of his thoughts.

    “Court is now in session for the trial of Wocky Kitaki.”

*****

    “Well, that didn’t go quite as bad as I anticipated.”

    “The important thing is we got my magic panties back, Polly!” Trucy declares happily.

    “Right,” Apollo sighs. “But our client is still the prime suspect.”

    “But,” she counters. “We’ve got another day to investigate! We’ve got this, for sure.”

    A new voice joins their conversation from behind them, causing them both to jump. “Hallo, Herr Forehead.”

    “Oh, um…” Apollo stammers. “Hey, Prosecutor Gavin.”

    “Did you really run over Apollo with your car?” Trucy asks.

    Apollo elbows her. “Trucy!”

    Klavier just seems amused. “Ja, we did meet under strange circumstances. Speaking of which, are we still on for dinner tonight, Herr Forehead?”

    “Well, I guess that depends on whether or not you want to spend time with the ‘little boy who bested Kristoph,’” Apollo retorts, not at all bitter about being called a little boy by his opponent in court.

    Klavier just smiles lazily. “Then I’ll pick you up from where we agreed, ja? Don’t be late.”

    Trucy watches their exchange with wide eyes, rounding on Apollo once the other man leaves.

    “Apollo! You’re consorting with the prosecution?”

    Apollo scowls. “I am not ‘consorting,’ we’re just having dinner together.”

    “You’re dating the enemy?!” Trucy demands, scandalized.

    “Okay, number one,” Apollo starts, crossing his arms. “Not a date. Number two, consider that your father is married to the Chief Prosecutor, and was dating him while they worked together, and realize you have no ground to stand on.”

    “I’ll give you the second one,” Trucy admits. “But it’s definitely a date. Oh my God! I know Klavier Gavin’s boyfriend! That puts me like, one degree away from fame myself! I’m gonna tell everyone.”

    “Trucy, do not-” She’s running off before he can even finish his sentence, and Apollo can do nothing but sigh and rub his eyes.

    It’s been a long week.

*****

    “So, Prosecutor Gavin, huh?” Wright says as soon as Apollo arrives back at the agency. Trucy really does work fast, he realizes despairingly. “I need to give him ‘the talk’?”

    “‘The talk’?” Apollo echoes warily.

    “You know, ‘you break my employees heart, I break your legs’?”

    “I don’t know what Trucy told you, but it’s not a date. I am not dating Klavier Gavin! He hit me with his car, and now he’s buying me dinner. That’s it.”

    “That’s gonna be a hell of a story to tell your families someday,” Wright says, completely ignoring Apollo’s denials. “And I thought my story about changing majors to follow my love was good.”

    “Mr. Wright, we are not going on a date!”

    “Methinks the lady doth protest too much,” Wright smirks, before turning back to an intimidating looking pile of papers on his desk.

    Apollo wants to melt into the floor.

*****

    Apollo has to admit that it was kind of a date. Maybe. When looked at from a certain viewpoint.

    The restaurant Klavier took him too was, arguably, a good first date restaurant- romantic atmosphere, but not too romantic. And Klavier had actually insisted on paying for him, which still surprised Apollo even though Klavier had told him he would. And then when they went home, Klavier had insisted on walking Apollo to his door.

    But that definitely didn’t mean anything.

*****

    “Come on, Apollo,” Trucy begs.

    “No.”

    “Pleeeeeease?”

    “No.”

    She pouts, sticking her lower lip out. “You’re no fun. Come on, we won the trial, we should celebrate!”

    “Celebrate by not pestering me for details about my love life.”

    “So you admit that it was a date!” Trucy declares triumphantly.

    “I- no- I mean!” Mercifully, the door of the agency chooses that moment to open.

    Less mercifully, the one that walks in is Clay.

    “I heard that my best friend won his second case in a row!” He exclaims, running over and wrapping Apollo in a strangling hug. Apollo stumbles back when released, and Clay lays a hand over his heart. “My little boy is growing up so fast.”

    “Who’s this, Polly?”

    “Ah,” Clay says, just noticing Trucy. “I’m Clay Terran, this successful bastard’s best friend. Right, Apollo?”

    Apollo glares at him, and Clay laughs. Trucy perks up quickly from her pout.

    “I’m Trucy Wright!” She exclaims. “You’re Polly’s best friend?”

    Clay nods. “That’s right.”

    “Tell him to give me the details about his date with Klavier Gavin! He won’t tell me anything,” she whines.

    “You went on a date with Klavier and you didn’t even tell me about it? You said you would tell me when you went!” Clay glares at him. “I hope you at least got me an autograph.”

    “Oh! And me,” Trucy adds, bouncing on her feet.

    It’s been a long week.

*****

    At some point, Apollo has to admit that he’s dating Klavier Gavin. Oh, he bravely kept up his denials for as long as he could, but eventually it just slipped. He couldn’t tell exactly when. Maybe it was after their first kiss. Maybe it was after they started spending the night at each other’s homes more often than not. Maybe it was after the tabloids finally got a hold of a picture of them kissing, and the news of Klavier Gavin’s new mystery boyfriend was splattered across every cheap celebrity news magazine and television station that could get it’s grubby hands on the story.

    Apollo doesn’t know. He finds he doesn’t really care.

    And Wright was, well, right- the story of how they met was always a fun one to tell.

Notes:

I had so much fun writing this honestly. This is just a fun little side piece to distract from the fact that everything else I'm writing right now is basically just a bundle of angst.
I hope everyone enjoys this as much as I enjoyed writing it! Please, leave feed back- your words give me life.
This is unrelated to my current ongoing Ace Attorney fic, but I guess if you wanted to you could consider it canon in that universe- I'm not stopping you.
And you should all follow my writing blog: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/garrettxg
For updates on my writing and so I feel less lonely.