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If it had just been ordinary herbs that Datz had been keeping on hand, Apollo might have never even noticed the squat little medicine cabinet in the corner of Datz’s office.
He often went into Datz’s office just to look at Dhurke’s old collections. Sometimes, he’d find himself enraptured by a good dozen of defense attorney badges, kept safe in a glass picture frame against crushed velvet. Another time, he might examine the records of old case files, back when attorneys had been allowed to make copies for their own use. And when all else failed, he might sit in the antique wooden chair that they refused to return to Khura’in Palace, and one that Rayfa would playfully try to steal until they caught her, every time she visited Justice Law and Co.
But that little medicine cabinet in the corner never caught his eye. Now that Apollo was glaring daggers at it though, he had to take it in a bit more. A strange, slightly reddish pink color, lacquered without any mistakes he could see bare. It had been embossed in places with what appeared to be silver, to keep it from appearing too warm. When he pulled open one of the tiny drawers, he’d find a velvet pouch inside, alongside a small inscription in Khurianese. Now that he could read it, and the writing hadn't faded, he could name what was kept there.
Whitegrass.
Rush reed seeds.
Shatavari.
Lali Guras.
All of it was written not in Dhurke’s more chunky script Apollo had come to know, but a more thin, slanting writing that came in short flicks of a pen. He imagined it had to be Amara who wrote it, in the end. She seemed the type to have the knowledge of such plants, and pass it onto her husband. Taking a deep breath, Apollo opened a conspicuously shifted drawer.
Moonflower stamens.
He sighed, picking up the little pouch inside, and moved away from the chest. In the corner, Datz stood like a dog caught eating a steak plain off the table, hands behind his back and eyes wide with remorse.
“...You know, Maya told me about Khurainese moonflowers. She said it was a medicine, something pretty powerful but only in larger doses. And of course, that it was a restricted substance, though not forbidden. So.”
He wiggled the little pouch, eyes narrow and sharp. “Want to explain how Kristoph got his hands on this?”
Datz cowered further, if such a thing were possible. Even though Apollo was half his age and much taller, even reaching Kristoph’s height, the man still looked like he desperately wanted to poof right into the air.
“Look, I didn’t think he’d even notice the thing! I put it under a blanket for a reason, I didn’t really want to do anything with it! But it belonged to Dhurke, and I… I just couldn’t get rid of anything that belonged to Dhurke, you know that.”
Apollo knew it keenly. One of Dhurke’s jackets hung in his closet at home, after all. But this went beyond some fond sentimentality. He’d seen the other things in there that could be poisonous. If Kristoph had eaten any of them, Khura’in hospitals might not be able to keep him alive long enough to detox. With weakened lungs and heart, he made the worst possible patient to consume this stuff. Even moonflower could prove too much for him.
The entire nonsense had started when Kristoph wandered into his office, without his usual robe laying lax over his shoulder, and his arm through the sleeve. Apollo hadn’t paid it too much mind at first- Kristoph often came in just to lay on his couch and relax a bit, to keep his heart from getting overexerted. Being around so many people downstairs, in the main office, would tire him out over time. But when he noticed the sheen of sweat on his forehead, and the small, stilted breaths he’d started letting out, every sense of his kicked into overdrive.
He’d nearly knocked a case file off his desk in his mad dash to check on Kristoph, who had started curling in on himself, a bad sign. His hands shook on his chest, and his head shifted, knocking his glasses askew. Apollo had tried to ask what was wrong, but Kristoph only shook his head, unable to answer. When he screamed for help, a few of his subordinates came running at the chords of steel, trying to figure out what happened to Kristoph until one person had a keen enough eye to notice.
“...Mr Justice, do we keep moonflower in the office?” Her brow was raised, as she looked down at Kristoph.
“...Moonflower? That’s a restricted ingredient. Only apothecaries and pharmacies are allowed to carry it. Why?” He had pulled a rag from atop his mini-fridge, wiping at Kristoph’s brow when he could.
“Apologies for my crudeness, boss, but uh… If you’d look down a bit further…”
The rest of them politely turned away suddenly, one whistling a small tune. When Apollo dared to look down Kristoph’s body, he found exactly what had made Obia, said subordinate, so worried about offending him.
Kristoph had started sporting a raging hard-on, one that even appeared visible through two layers of clothing. One being a rather heavy fabric. When he seemed to realize where Apollo was looking, even in a half-lucid state, he rolled himself over onto his stomach, trying to hide the evidence. Pleading, clouded blue-gray eyes looked up at him, as Apollo pulled away his glasses to keep them from getting bent.
“It’s okay. Just stay right here, alright?” He stood, trying to pretend his cheeks hadn’t gone bright red. “You four. I need you to go through the office and look for any signs of whatever drugged him. Go into the offices if you need to, and if the partners ask, you tell them Mr Justice said you have authority to search. Don’t leave anything unturned.”
With quick nods, all four of the attorneys ran off, trying not to collide in Apollo’s door. Perhaps too eager to get out of the way. Quite a few panicked or annoyed yelps came from the offices around him, but Apollo had little time to care. He nearly slid over to his mini-fridge, grabbing a spare ice pack from it to put on Kristoph’s head. The erection… Couldn’t really do anything about it at the moment, so he politely worked around it.
“Kristoph, can you hear me?” He nodded, quite rapidly even. “I know, this is a bad situation, but stick with me, okay? Dammit, I should’ve told one of them to ask for a doctor… Do you mind if I call Ms Maya? She may be able to help.”
Kristoph seemed to mull it over for a moment, his vacant gaze sharpening. Then, he spoke up, throat raspy. “Don’t… mind. Water please.”
Apollo stood, nearly throwing himself into the hall to grab a plastic cup and fill it with water. As Kristoph practically chugged the thing down, Apollo held him up to keep him from choking. Maya, thankfully, picked up on the first ring, and when Apollo managed to explain the situation, he could practically hear her getting up to get moving. With a quiet thank you, he waited for her to arrive, rubbing soothing circles against Kristoph’s back.
He wasn’t the kind of man to attack someone suffering, but Kristoph’s flushed face and dazed expression was almost enough to make him do something just a little stupid (kissing him right now would be liable to earn him a slap, even if Kristoph was half-conscious). Thankfully, Maya must have just been down the street, because she came barrelling into the room in just a few minutes. Maybe someone had contacted her about a case. He found himself running into Maya more often than not, due to her spirit channeling sometimes overlapping with the office. Luckily, she hadn’t appeared as a defendant in quite some time.
“Oh dear. Yeah, that’s bad.” She said, after giving him a quick examination. “He didn’t take a lot, I can tell. His mouth would be a lot drier by now. But it’s enough to affect him. His pulse is high.”
“How bad?”
“Uhhh… Sorry, the numbers… Well, his heartrate’s over a hundred when I counted.”
“Shit. The doctor said that’s definitely bad. He’s already got a weak heart.” Apollo pushed back his horns, pressing his palms against his forehead. “Dammit. How the hell could this happen? Someone said it looks like moonflower, but I barely know about the damn thing except that it’s apparently an aphrodisiac. All I really knew is that it’s a restricted substance, and that’s only for law…”
“No, I get it. And it does have those purposes. Traditionally, it’s for spiritual rituals, but uh, it really only gets you a little… I mean, it usually doesn’t do this much.”
“Well, he’s sick, you know that–”
“Not an invalid.” Kristoph protested from where he lay.
“I know, I know. Wait, hang on, how did you get your hands on this?”
Kristoph slowly looked away, ducking his head so his eyes were shaded. “...Datz is… guarded about a corner of his office. Checked it. There was…” He paused, coughing for a moment. “There was… saffron. Thought it was. Tasted it… Was not saffron.”
Both of them stood there, silent for a moment, before Apollo’s bafflement got the better of him.
“WHY DID YOU JUST PUT A RANDOM THING DATZ HIDES IN YOUR MOUTH?!” He shouted, his hands now tearing through his hair.
“I thought it was saffron.” Kristoph looked almost miffed, as if the thing offended him by not being saffron.
“Thought does not mean ‘knew’!”
“Saffron… also a flower stamen. Same color.”
“Dried Khurainese moonflower stamens… Well, you can’t get much more potent than that.” Maya rubbed at her chin, lost in thought for a moment. “The petals are much more mild, as are the stems, but the stamens…” She squeezed her eyes shut, before snapping them open. “Let me go down to the apothecary, I’ll get something to sort him out. At the very least it’ll make it… not as bad. You may want to talk to Datz though.”
“Oh believe me, we’re going to have some words alright…” He stewed, while Maya skipped out the door, already heading for the stairs to get the things she needed. Apollo had no idea how she could fix… this, but at least it made him less worried that she had some kind of idea. Didn’t make him any less angry. “I know you’re hot right now, but I’m gonna put a blanket on you. Stay right here, okay?” He pulled a blanket off the back of the couch, and carefully draped it over Kristoph. He barely gave a complaint, simply rolling over and tugging it around his body.
With that settled, Apollo stepped out, making sure to close the door behind him. A few associates crowded around the hall outside his door, many eyes shifting away to not make contact.
“...Datz is in his office.” One piped up.
“Right, right, okay. You all go back downstairs and get back to work. I’ll handle this.” He pressed his palm to his forehead with a long sigh, before heading down the hall, his sea of employees parting to get the hell out of dodge. Probably better they did. Datz was about to get the scolding of a lifetime.
Post one scolding and ass-handing later, Apollo found himself back at home, with Kristoph in bed and a set of herbal medicines in hand. Maya got them from the apothecary after mentioning what happened, and thankfully he didn’t seem to ask too many questions.
Thankfully, getting him back home hadn’t been too tough. With the help of a blanket and a quiet cab, Kristoph had managed with his dignity intact. Of course, falling to his knees the moment they got into the apartment didn’t bode well, but the only person who saw it was Apollo. And at this point, Apollo had probably seen his worst.
But despite making dinner and having the tv on, he couldn’t stop thinking about Kristoph. He’d given him some privacy, and told Kristoph to make some noise if something went wrong, but so far he hadn’t heard a peep.
…Maybe he should check on him.
Apollo got up from the couch, ignoring whatever news was on the tv, and knocked on Kristoph’s door.
“Hey, just checking in. Do you need anything?” Silence, for a few seconds, before he heard some rustling. Then, the distinct click of the door lock. Did Kristoph lock himself in there when Apollo wasn’t paying attention? Well. He’d have to keep that in mind for the future. But since he unlocked it, he took it as his invitation to come in.
From what he could tell in the low light, Kristoph had bundled himself into his comforter and blankets. Hopefully the aphrodisiac didn’t give him a chill, though with how much people blathered on about them, he assumed they made someone feverish. He shut the door behind him, kneeling down on the side of the bed.
From between the pillow and blankets, he could catch a glimpse of Kristoph’s eyes, unfocused and glassy. When he pressed a hand to his forehead, he was burning up. Shit. With a careful hand, he peeled back the blankets, and put his ear to Kristoph’s chest. Even if his skin felt blistering hot, he could tell from listening to his breathing that at least he wasn’t congested again.
When he pulled back, he got a better look, and his jaw nearly dropped. Kristoph’s face had a heavy flush over the cheeks and nose, and his hair had come undone, almost curly in places from how mussed up it had gotten. His eyes followed Apollo, but something behind them almost made him think Kristoph barely saw him.
“...I’m gonna get you some tylenol, one second.” Slipping out of the room, he had to brace himself on the kitchen counter for a few moments, pressing his forehead to the countertop. At least the coolness shocked some sense back into him.
“...Fuck.” He muttered, under his breath. Half undone pajama-shirt. Sleepy gaze, barely lucid. He smacked his cheeks a few times, before grabbing the pill bottle. He’d never seen Kristoph undone. The most he’d ever caught a glimpse of was him taking off his bolo tie to unbutton his shirt a little on those scorching California days. But this? This was obscene.
But it was also his mentor in trouble. Medical, real awful trouble. He couldn’t be a complete bastard and take advantage. On the barest surface, it was a shitty thing to do. On the bottom of it, it was illegal. Maya had said it herself- this stuff was powerful, and it was basically a drug. Even if Kristoph had accidentally poisoned himself, he still didn’t deserve to suffer from it.
Apollo headed back in with a cup of ice water.
“Can you sit up, Kristoph?” He held out his hands, and thankfully, Kristoph grabbed onto them with a rather firm grip. So at least he wasn’t weakened by this whole ordeal. With some grace still remaining, he took two of the pills and washed them down quickly, a sheen of sweat on his forehead and neck. While he drank some more water, Apollo wiped at him with a towel.
“...Thank you.” He murmured, eyes shifting down to Apollo at his knees. “Sorry, I… I thought it would… die down eventually.”
“Is your breathing alright?” His pajamas seemed damp, so he went for a new pair, perhaps a lighter one this time. “You look hot, but I didn’t hear any problems.”
“Mmm… not congested.” He took a deep breath, and without a wheeze, Apollo could tell he sounded clear. “But I… feel heavy. Breathing takes… effort.”
“It could be a heart thing. Do you want to change before I take your pulse?” Kristoph nodded, and even though he’d had to cool himself off before, Apollo gave him a hand. Despite his expression, it was decidedly unsexy, and thankfully screwed Apollo’s head back on straight. His body was covered in sweat, and pale, and perhaps just like any other body at the moment. Clearly sick.
But a warm part of his heart bubbled to the surface, slipping Kristoph’s arms through his shirt and buttoning it for him. Once again, his mentor seemed so small. He’d barely gained any height in his early twenties, but now he almost stood shoulder-to-shoulder with Kristoph, perhaps just a little shorter depending on his shoes.
When he did check Kristoph’s pulse, he nearly fell over from where he was kneeling. Shit. Definitely over a hundred. Probably closer to a hundred and fifty. Not good at all. Kristoph didn’t even seem aware of it, not fully.
“I’m gonna get the herbs Maya gave me, okay? Lie down and relax for a bit.” He helped Kristoph lie down without banging his head, and practically ran to the living room, barrelling back in with the bottles. She’d told him hawthorn for a high heartrate, so he’d start with that. She’d told him to use a very small amount, after making sure Kristoph wasn’t on certain heart medications. It always amazed him just how much traditional medicine intertwined with modern methods in Khura’in. It had surprised him even more that Maya knew what she was talking about, but perhaps being a spirit channeler required some medical knowledge.
“Alright, take this.” He helped Kristoph up again, and passed him the medicine powder on a piece of paper, folded so he could swallow it down. From Kristoph’s expression, it had to be horribly bitter, but at least it would hopefully fix the heart problem for now. “Sorry. I promise I’ll make it up to you later. I’m… really sorry this happened.”
Kristoph turned slightly, slumping back down into bed. “I know. I’m… not mad.” His hand lingered near Apollo, and taking the sign, Apollo took it in his own. “...Datz, on the other hand…” He trailed off, and Apollo couldn’t help himself but laugh.
“Yeah, I’ll let you get angry at him when you’re better, okay?” He brushed back Kristoph’s bangs, pressing a kiss to his forehead before he could think better of it. When he pulled back, perhaps a little hesitant, Kristoph’s expression had barely changed. Perhaps turned a bit fonder. Perhaps his eyes crinkled a bit more than usual. Scratch that. He almost looked like he was about to cry.
“Do you… want me to be… angry?”
“...Maybe?” He huffed slightly, ducking his head. “I mean, if I had known… if I had warned you…”
“But you’re… the one worrying… about me.” He managed to say. “I’m… stupid. Obviously. Couldn’t… tell the stamens… apart. Couldn’t… tell that… I was being fooled. Couldn’t… escape from… the hole I dug… myself into.”
Someone punched Apollo in the stomach. At least, that’s what it felt like. He nearly coughed, and wouldn’t that be awful, coughing in a sick man’s face. He managed to hold back the wave of nausea that coursed through him just from what Kristoph said.
“No, Kristoph, I…” He trailed off, squeezing his hand a bit tighter. “You’re not stupid. You’re not stupid at all.” And the way he said it so fervently seemed to make Kristoph’s eyes widen. “If anyone had noticed, if anyone had been responsible… You wouldn’t have slipped through the cracks.”
Kristoph slumped a bit more, just a bit more limp. “...Well, if you… want to believe that. No reason to say… you’re wrong.”
Apollo gave an almost exasperated laugh at that, almost unbelieving of his stubbornness. “Sure. Alright. We’ll go with that.” And despite himself, Kristoph smiled.
“Apollo, I…” He started to say something, then trailed away, pressing his lips together for a moment.
“Yeah?”
Kristoph’s eyes darted off, and he slid his hand down further in Apollo’s grasp, til his thumb pressed against his pulse point. Oh no. His heart had gone up even more. For a moment, Apollo felt panic truly set in. If Kristoph’s heart went up enough, he could easily faint or worse, have a heart attack.
“I… Dammit, what do I do…?” He pushed his hand back up over his hair, pressing his lips together again.
Kristoph pushed himself a bit closer, voice quieter now. “...There are… ways to lower a heartbeat.” He murmured, and Apollo leaned down, faces inches apart from each other.
“Well, you’ve gotta tell me. If you have a heart attack it’s gonna be bad for all of us.” He huffed, and Kristoph almost looked amused.
“Theoretically… if we solve the problem… I shouldn’t… have such a high heartrate…” The way he smiled at Apollo, almost looking half-drunk, and just like Klavier. Maybe it was the lack of glasses. Either way, in his own little world, Kristoph sounded like he’d just come up with the funniest idea.
But Apollo’s heart went down to his feet, and he put his hands over Kristoph’s. “...Are you sure that’s a good idea? If you’re…” He swallowed, thickly. “If you’re not… if you’re basically inebriated, I…” He wouldn’t forgive himself, left unsaid.
“Justice.” Suddenly, his voice cut through the haziness, cold and sharp as ever. “I may have… a shit pair of lungs and… a shittier heart.” Even with heavy breaths, he spoke rather sternly. “But I know… my limits. And when I’m… not in my right mind. Either… give me a hand, or… let me handle it myself.” He narrowed his eyes, and Apollo momentarily felt the rare frosty gaze Kristoph had given him when he really fucked up.
“...Well. You can’t blame me for wanting to be a good person.” He sat up further on his haunches, reaching over to peel the blanket away from Kristoph. For a moment, he seemed startled, but quickly got back his bearings as he pushed himself up again. It had only been a few minutes, but he’d already gotten damp again, the scalp on his threaded with drops of sweat. “Are you still warm?”
“Mmm. But it… won’t last. Tylenol…” He waved his hand in the air for a moment, before chuckling as if it was somewhat hilarious. “...Don’t worry.”
“You say that and I’m gonna worry.” But despite himself, he unbuttoned Kristoph’s shirt with ease and a bit of speed. His skin still seemed pale, and clammy, but a spread of red had taken over his collar and shoulders, rising up to his face. Before long, he realized he was staring, and Apollo’s eyes darted away.
But Kristoph didn’t let him escape for long. “Do you… like what you see?”
“I… how could I not?” He licked at his lips, eyes flicking down. “I just…”
Kristoph’s hand pressed against his forehead, pushing back his hair. “Don’t feel… guilty. It’s not… your fault. If anything, I should have… paid more attention. Haven’t I… wanted this for a long time?” Even he looked confused at his own admission.
Pride and fear scrambled into a lance of lightning through Apollo, and he could feel his face go as red as his work suit. Relying on him was one thing. Admitting some dredged up feelings was a whole other ballpark. Apollo shook his head, regaining a small bit of composure. “We’ll… talk about that later.”
“Mm.” Kristoph replied, but didn’t seem too miffed. Instead, he stretched, languid like a cat showing its belly. “At your… leisure, then.”
His heart started pounding in his chest, so hard he’d almost worried he’d have a heart attack himself. His legs shook where he kneeled down, but he managed to move his hand, palm resting on the lower part of Kristoph’s stomach.
Procrastination always got the better of him. He couldn’t make his fingers inch down, to where they were needed most. Too indecent. Too hot. Too much like all he’d ever wanted. But here was Kristoph asking in the plainest of words, and here he was being a coward.
Apollo took a deep breath, and dove in.
Kristoph’s flesh, at least down here, came warm to the touch. Sticky, but not tacky, and almost uncomfortably hot. Hair, thin and pale, brushed against his fingers. He’d imagined Kristoph shaved, or perhaps waxed, but perhaps all of his hair was thin. They’d figure out the bald spot stuff later.
His free hand tugged the pants down further with his underwear, and compared to his pale stomach and face, his cock almost seemed engorged with blood, reddened and aching. Begging to be touched.
His fingers wrapped around it, nearly burning from the touch. Something like this came rarely and quite short. A messy fumbling of hands, not something pointed and direct. Not like this. But Kristoph seemed pleased, letting out a long breath he’d seemed to be holding. His legs fell apart on his side, giving him more room to do whatever he pleased.
Apollo pushed himself up slightly with his free hand, and instead of taking the obvious opening, pulled his free arm over to wrap around Kristoph’s shoulders.
He wanted to see him when he came.
He wanted to press his cheek against his and be close. To spread out the warmth, to mix cold and fire together.
Maybe to remind Kristoph he wasn’t alone. That he wasn’t just using Apollo to get off. He wasn’t bold enough to kiss him, not yet, but he was bold enough to press his forehead to his and think about it.
Kristoph gasped, his fingers flying out to dig into Apollo’s shirt as his grip tightened, pumping along the length. His thighs kicked up, jolting from the sudden sensation. Did it feel good like this? Even when his body rebelled against him, and his heart wanted to beat out of its chest, did it feel good when Apollo’s hands pulled and tugged, trying to bring him some semblance of pleasure? Did he feel pain when he bit his lip between his teeth, watching as he came undone by someone else’s hand?
Apollo didn’t really know. He didn’t want to take moonflower and figure it out himself. What he did want to see was those drops of precum rolling down the shaft, clear and weeping almost constantly. He wanted to work his hand over it, making sure every inch felt his callouses. Wanted Kristoph to feel good from the top of his head to his toes.
And even if that was going to be difficult, his free hand slid around Kristoph’s back, a finger reaching to roll a nipple under his nightshirt. Kristoph hissed, head tossing back. He nearly knocked into Apollo’s nose, but he stayed firm, circling around it almost agonizingly slow.
Kristoph’s hips bucked up into his hand, a low, dangerous moan croaking out of his mouth. He panted for a few moments, and Apollo went easy on him.
Until he didn’t.
Like it or not, he almost wanted to see Kristoph scream at this point. It’d gone from some kind of altruistic help to feeding into exactly what Kristoph asked him to do. He’d make that heart rate go down, one way or another.
And if it made Kristoph see stars, then all the better for it.
He turned his wrist slightly, and started jerking him off with reckless abandon, an even, steady, but fast pace.
Kristoph choked off another moan, just a bit higher than the last one. His face was hidden by his bangs, but his mouth was right up against Apollo’s ear, letting him hear every hitch in his breath, every time he had to stop himself from moaning like a whore.
Even falling apart, Kristoph just had to keep his cool, didn’t he?
Apollo wasn’t going to let him.
He slipped up, letting himself just keep pushing, no regard to pace or rhythm. Just thrusting as fast as possible, trying to get him off. Kristoph’s thighs kept spasming, trying to close but failing every time. He’d put himself in an awkward angle, and he had to deal with that. But he was getting close, that much kept becoming clearer and clearer. His stomach seemed to flex, fingers digging into his skin under his shirt.
He almost wanted to ask if he was doing good. If he was enjoying it. If Kristoph wanted him to do this again sometime, make him fall apart just with his hands. But he couldn’t speak, just focused on every little reaction Kristoph had to the sensation.
The way his hips bucked into his hand as he kept approaching the peak.
The way he seemed to be whispering under his breath, his voice dying from how much it was tested.
The way he seemed to put all of his weight on Apollo, trusting him not to fall over.
Being trusted with this… No, he couldn’t think about that now, no matter how much he wanted to. No matter how much he wanted to rut into the mattress next to Kristoph, his pants uncomfortably tight. All that mattered was seeing Kristoph go over the edge at his own mercy.
And soon enough, he got his wish.
Something had shifted, that usual strange mix of pleasure and uncomfortableness morphing into full pleasure, with every gasped out moan Kristoph could eke out. A near silent chant of ‘please, please, please’ whispered on every breath. Apollo could only listen, back and forth faster and faster, fingers slipping slightly and dipping over the head–
Kristoph screamed.
It wasn’t that stupid, pornographic scream-moan, but a genuine, near silent scream as his hips jerked up, trying to get Apollo’s hand right where it needed to be as he came, milky white fluid coating his stomach and rolling down the shaft, onto Apollo’s hand. His nails dug in, nearly drawing blood, and his teeth clamped shut, a moan through his teeth coming through as he worked through it.
And when he finally went slack, Apollo pulled back slightly, looking over him.
Kristoph laid back on his bed, hair askew around his head, and his face flushed red, breathing heavily, eyes staring off into space. His legs sat slightly apart, the mess hot but cooling over him. The skin he could see between the halves of his nightshirt hanging apart almost felt obscene. After a few moments, his hand came up to his forehead, and he brushed back his hair, slick with sweat.
“...Fuck.” He managed. The sound nearly burned Apollo’s ears.
“...I’m sorry.”
“No, I… I needed…” He huffed, almost chuckling. “I needed that.” His eyes seemed less cloudy as they shifted over to Apollo, the red slowly calming on his face. “Check?”
Apollo nodded, wiping his hand on the sheets as he leaned over to listen to Kristoph’s pulse. Even, steady, and better yet, under a hundred beats per minute. He almost laid there for a full minute, listening to the sound as it should be.
“Thank the Holy Mother.” He murmured, and despite himself, could feel a few tears pricking at his eyes. “I was worried.”
“I know.” Kristoph smiled, before pushing himself up. “Well, now you ought to help me change.”
Apollo laughed at that. Not full belly, nothing dramatic, but enough that his sides started to hurt. Though Kristoph cocked his head at him, Apollo only shook his own.
“I got you. Though you may want to get out of bed for a minute, your sheets are probably gonna need a wash.”
“Hm. Damn.” Kristoph did as he was asked, though, and managed to slide himself off the edge to stand. “Eugh.”
“You think you can take a shower on your own?”
“Probably.” He slipped off the soiled pants and undergarments, then the sweat-soaked shirt he’d been wearing. “This better not last. I don’t like the old man sweats.”
“No one does.” Apollo nearly laughed again, but instead handed him his boxers and a clean set of pajamas. “I’ll wash everything else. You go get clean, alright?”
“Mmm…” He nodded, and trotted off to the bathroom, seemingly uncaring of who saw him naked at this point. Perhaps he’d need to check for a fever when Kristoph got back.
But for now, he sat in his room, pulling off the sheets. A hundred thoughts hit his mind at once, but for now he batted them all away like cobwebs to a broom. He could worry about the implications later. Could worry if Kristoph would be mad later. He certainly didn’t seem mad now.
Some small prideful part of himself flared, knowing Kristoph had needed it. Needed him to give that to him. Even if words went unsaid, he quite literally could see it. Could feel it in every word. And Kristoph himself seemed pleased enough to forgo the usual rules of decorum.
Though now that he thought about it, he ought to keep an eye on him, just in case he proved too tired to stay standing up…
With that, Apollo left the room, linens bundled up in his arms.
The next day at work, Datz seemed a bit surprised to see Kristoph so hale, even if he was lounging on Apollo’s couch, chewing ice nuggets from a styrofoam cup, with an ice pack on his forehead.
“I thought that stuff would knock you out of commission for a week! Not that I was trying to.” Kristoph’s glare could probably melt the ice he was eating.
“I know you weren’t, but you must be more responsible, Mr Are’bal.” Only Kristoph insisted on referring to everyone as a Ms or a Mr. But sometimes, his professionalism was refreshing in this law zoo. “If someone sicker than me consumed that, they might be dead.”
“I know, I know, I’m really sorry about it. I asked Amara to hang onto it for now.” She’d taken the medicine chest without fuss, somewhat shocked it was still all in one piece. He could still remember how misty her eyes got, seeing hers and Dhurke’s handwriting side by side. “So don’t worry, no one else should get poisoned, promise.”
Kristoph nodded sagely, tossing some more of the ice nuggets in his mouth. He seemed pensive, before Datz heard a few small crunches. “Khura’in really should have poison control… I’m adding that to my list.”
“Yeah, it should. Which, I guess I’m wondering…” He rubbed the back of his neck. It was a silly question, really. But he’d heard of it before, in passing, when people talked about Moonflower. “Did… someone like, help you with that? I hear it passes faster when–”
The look Kristoph gave him could kill.
“This line of questioning is hazardous to your health, Datz.” He hissed out his first name, and despite the glare, his cheeks were starting to turn pink.
“I mean, it’s an honest question, I’ve never seen anyone use Moonflower before!” He waved his hands, trying to make some sort of gesture of surrender, but Kristoph still looked pissed. “Though I mean, there’s really only one person who would–”
Datz got a cup of ice nuggets right in the face.
“AUGH!” He stepped back, trying to wipe the water from his eyes, and nearly ran right into his boss. Apollo sidestepped him, letting him hit the wall instead.
While he was recovering, Kristoph stood up in an instant, and marched out of the office, whispering one thing to Apollo in passing.
“Justice, I’ll see you in your room after work.”
That didn’t really sound like a request.
More like a demand.