The Quilt

     Klavier woke up with a sudden start, right in the middle of the night; well, maybe not so much a sudden start as a sudden fit of coughing.  Tiredly, his bleary eyes fixed themselves on Apollo, who had been staying with him for the past two days.  He reached a shaky hand toward Apollo, cupping it over the brunette's forehead.  However, something didn't feel right.

     Klavier could tell this--after all, his own fever had broke some time during the night.  It seemed as though Apollo had caught the flu from him; oh how he cursed himself!  He then cursed Phoenix Wright.  That damned professionally aimless bum had coughed and sneezed in his general vicinity during court and it enraged Klavier to no end how that jerk could just spread germs without a care.  Then again, he'd read up on a case where Wright had been the defendant and had a horrid cold at the time and wondered if that was the reason Payne's voice was all nasal and whiny.  He then dismissed all these jumbled thoughts, placing his hand on Apollo's cheek.  It was just as warm as his forehead.

     "...I'm...sorry."  Klavier whispered softly, sitting up in bed.

     He ran a hand up and down Apollo's arm before dragging himself up.

     "You stay there, okay Herr Forehead?"  He murmured, stumbling in the darkness of the night toward the bathroom with the medicine cabinet.  He figured that Coldkiller X would be at least a little bit of help for the younger man, seeing as a combination of it, rest, and fluids had broken his own fever.  As soon as he dug out the medicine bottle, he took it with him to the bedroom.

     Apollo was sitting up in bed, giving a harsh, grating cough.  Even looking like hell, Klavier had to admit that Apollo was awful cute.  He dipped his fingers into the Coldkiller X bottle and plucked a pill out, then reached toward Apollo.

     "Here.  It'll make you feel a little better for now."  Klavier smiled.

     Apollo cautiously took the pill, swallowing it carefully and shuddering as it went down.  It tasted, for lack of better terms, absolutely and utterly horrible.  After he finally got the pill down, he gave a weak smile to Klavier.

     "Thanks...Kla..."  Apollo began, suddenly cut off by a rasp of hoarseness.

     Klavier kissed Apollo on the forehead.  "Ah, don't worry about it, ja?  It's the least I could do to repay you."

     Apollo blinked.  "For what?"

     Klavier smiled brightly, perching himself on the bed.  "For taking care of me these past couple of days.  You could have left at any time and you chose to stay.  That means more to me than a legion of screaming fangirls and twelve platinum records.  One true friend--wait...one true lover--is worth more than the fangirls and the platinum records combined."

     Apollo blinked, remaining somewhat silent.  He couldn't quite think straight, or coherent, so he just nodded before laying back down.  Klavier tilted his head sightly, keeping his eyes on Apollo for a moment; the smaller brunette gave a few shivers.  It was only a moment later that Klavier realized that Apollo had no real cover over him, and hadn't had any cover earlier that night.  By this point in time, of course, he could also tell that Apollo was asleep; how this was, he couldn't explain.  Call it a gut instinct.

     He got up, walking quietly and carefully to his own closet and digging out his favorite purple quilt; it was the perfect thing for this situation.  Carefully and quietly, he tucked Apollo in under the quilt, taking extra caution to avoid waking up the defense attorney.

     "Gute nacht, meine liebe." Klavier whispered as he drew himself back under his own covers.