Ace Attorney, it's characters and settings, are property of Capcom, and are being used here without permission and no profit.  This fic is rated NC-17 for sex, and contains spoilers for all of Apollo Justice.

 

 

"I'll Take You… Back To Borginia, 2024!"

Oneshot for Gefrierpunk, by Croik

 

 

 

 

"It is a beautiful song," Lamiroir concluded.

 

"It would have to be," Klavier replied as he stretched his weary shoulders.  "It came from us."

 

Lamiroir chuckled.  Even her laughter was music itself, and it made Klavier smile every time.  He continued to work the tension out of his body while Lamiroir stood, and moved to pour herself a glass of water.  They had been at it for hours now, nestled away in her charming European apartment: Klavier hunched over his guitar, a notepad by his side; Lamiroir seated with perfect posture on one end of the sofa, singing his words.  They made for an inspiring pair, and long into the night they had shared their melodies as easily as long time partners.

 

Klavier couldn't remember feeling a creative drive quite like this in his life.  The wooden guitar Lamiroir offered him for the night had started out a shy and awkward stranger, but now it sang beneath his fingertips with effortless delight.  Though it was by now nearing twenty-four hours since he had last slept he had not felt any moment of fatigue until the completion.  Their song was finished.  It was a tender, simple creation, nothing that would win awards but certainly not without merit.  Klavier could not have been more pleased with himself.

 

Lamiroir returned, offering Klavier a glass of water.  He thanked her happily and at last set aside the guitar so he could accept.  "You'll sing it with me onstage, ja?" he encouraged after having taken a sip.  "You're going to be touring the States soon anyway."

 

"I do not believe a stop in Los Angeles was scheduled," Lamiroir replied.  She retook her seat next to him; Klavier still could not help but be impressed by the ease in which she moved about the room, completing simple and complicated tasks despite her lack of sight.  "But I am sure we can arrange it.  I would love to perform with you, Mr. Gavin."

 

Lamiroir reached up, at long last removing her hood, followed by her veil.  Klavier had been so intent on their writing that evening that he had barely noticed she was still wearing them.  But now, watching her full face being exposed for the first time, Klavier couldn't help but feel a faint sense of shock.  Though much older than him, Lamiroir was unmistakably beautiful, with her soft features and long, silk-smooth hair.  Even the act of removing her cloak and folding it carefully was graceful.

 

"Mr. Gavin?"

 

Klavier shook himself, and realized that he had been staring in silence for an awkward amount of time.  "Ah, yes," he said quickly.  "I'd love that.  You'll talk to your manager?"

 

"Of course."  Lamiroir began to remove her earrings, and next the thick bangles holding her hair.  Though her eyes seemed to flicker over him, he knew she wasn't actually seeing him.  "It should be no problem at all."

 

"Good."  Klavier watched her closely; he felt a bit guilty of taking advantage of her disability, but he could hardly be blamed.  He smiled.  "It's good to finally see your face," he said after a moment.

 

"Hm?  Oh!"  Lamiroir touched her cheek, and then smiled shyly as she went about removing the last bangle.  "Forgive me.  I am so used to wearing my costume that I forget sometimes how much it really hides."

 

Her modest smile made Klavier's chest tighten mysteriously.  It was such a simple gesture, but that in itself reminded him of how different Lamiroir was from usual the women that paraded through his life.  Though their reputations in the music world were comparable, in their hours of acquaintance she had treated him as no more and no less than a peer.  No fannish squealing, no swooning, no shallow declarations of love; just a woman, quiet and sincere, enjoying him for his talent and nothing else.

 

Klavier licked his lips.  The atmosphere was already warm and pleasant thanks to the satisfaction of their song-making, and he could not help himself.  "You shouldn't wear it so much," he told her knowingly.  "I know it's part of your gimmick to be mysterious.  But a face as beautiful as yours should be a gift to the world."

 

He had made a lot of women blush in his career, but it had never been as much of an accomplishment as it was when Lamiroir's cheeks reddened.  Her fingers, which had reached to comb through her hair, stopped self consciously.  "I am…flattened?"

 

Klavier chuckled; her mistake made her even more charming.  "Flattered," he corrected gently.  "But it's not flattery!  It's the truth."  Jealous of her hands, he edged closer along the sofa, and gently touched a lock of her hair.  "I didn't think anything could be as lovely as your voice, but I might have been wrong."

 

Lamiroir found his hand, and gently eased it away from her hair.  But the contact of warm skin only encouraged Klavier more, as did her darkening blush.  "You do not have to…tease me," Lamiroir said with good humor, being careful of her words.  "I already like you very much."

 

She reached to pat his knee, but just as she did so Klavier edged closer again, and instead her hand fell inadvertently against the inside of his thigh.  Though such a simple and innocent mistake, the gentle pressure of her delicate fingers heightened Klavier's senses with a jolt.  All through the night they had sung and laughed and shared, and all at once those feelings of mirth and content sharpened into something much more potent: a sudden stirring in his gut he hadn't felt in a long time.

 

Lamiroir must have felt how he tensed, because she too halted.  For a moment she even seemed to hold her breath as her hand remained still and uncertain.  It was such a more subdued reaction than his teenaged fans would have taken, had they found themselves with an opportunity to touch him, and yet that made it all the more fascinating to watch.  When she began to regain her composure and retrieve her hand, Klavier hastily prevented her by covering her hand with his.

 

"Mr. Gavin…."  Lamiroir did not squirm, did not try to move closer or ease away.  It was the impeccable posture with which she held herself that enthralled Klavier so much, and he was tempted to push her further if only to see the remarkably maturity with which she responded to it.  He could tell she was not wholly unaffected, though: she was flushed, and when her lips parted her breath could be heard as a quiet hiss through them.

 

"Lamiroir…"  Klavier wasn't sure where the sudden spur of confidence came from, but he was suddenly determined to see it through.  He gave her hand a squeeze.  "You know…when musicians like us create a song together, it's almost like…conceiving a child," he teased softly.

 

"Please," Lamiroir replied hurriedly.  She turned her head away from him shyly.  "Mr. Gavin, you tease too much.  There are much younger women whom you can talk like that to."

 

"No, there aren't," Klavier was just as quick to correct her.  "There aren't any other women like you."  The moment he said the words was the moment he understood them the best, and his heart began to pound as he inched closer still, until they were hip to hip.  "You're the most amazing person I've ever met, Lamiroir.  Not just as a musician, but…so much more."  As goofy and awkward as he felt for his clichéd compliments, after so many hours of pouring out his sincerity through his music he couldn't hold back.

 

"You are…speaking too big," Lamiroir tried to say, though her English was faltering.  "I am not…"

 

Klavier reached out himself this time, drawing his hand smoothly along the top of her thigh.  Lamiroir's voice instantly cut off as she stiffened beneath the touch.  He could feel the rise of excitement in her, but it was so gradual, so subdued that it made him ache to try and match her restraint.  It was as if each reaction occurred one at a time: the tensing of the muscles along her thighs; the almost unnoticeable arching of her back; the pursing of her lips as she gulped.  Klavier watched each sign with close, shameless attention, and was filled with a surge of arousal he couldn't remember experiencing so strongly before.  She had given so much of herself to him already through her voice, and he wanted more.  His body wanted so much more.

 

"Lamiroir…"  Klavier wanted to tell her of this sudden exhilaration he felt, and more than that of all the many reasons he adored her.  But only his hands were interested in speaking now, and the one at her thigh began to stroke up and down her leg, grabby and anxious like that of an inexperienced teenager.  He would have been beside himself with embarrassment had he been any more self aware, but thankfully her shivering was intoxicating.

 

"You are be…very child," Lamiroir scolded brokenly, but as she finally began to squirm beneath his caress he sensed no refusal in her.  Though seemingly very confused by the sudden turn of events, she made no move to stop him as he began gathering up her long white dress.  Surely, she must have felt it as well--the strange excitement brought on by their pooling of talent.  Her breath quickened the closer Klavier came to touching bare skin.

 

At last Klavier had worked her skirt up to her knees, and with a quiet hum of delight he slid his hand beneath it.  The massage of his eager fingers against the inside of her thighs drew from Lamiroir a startled gasp.  She quickly snapped her knees tightly together, but it only succeeded in trapping Klavier between them.

 

"It was be…has been…a long time," Lamiroir tried to explain her uncertainty, even as she leaned against Klavier's shoulder.  He could feel her quivering, which did nothing to convince him that he should stop.

 

"For me, too," Klavier lied.  He nudged her with his nose until she turned his face towards him.  "I'll be gentle."

 

Klavier kissed her, and though he was as tender as he had promised only a moment ago, it was out of nerves more than intention.  Lamiroir was a mature, older woman--how could a young upstart like him hope to please her?  Thankfully, she returned his kiss after only a few seconds of hesitation.  Klavier nearly melted.  But even more mind-numbing than the soft heat of her mouth was the rest of her body.  Specifically, her thighs, which began rubbing together with his hand between them.

 

Klavier moaned between their lips.  Now that she was reciprocating openly the arousal already tightening in his groin strengthened impossibly, making his tight black jeans an unbearable prison.  Carefully, so as not to break their kiss, he shifted on the sofa.  Lamiroir caught on beautifully, and after only a little manipulation of their bodies she was seated across his lap.  It allowed him to wrap his free arm around her waist, reveling in her curves, his other hand creeping higher along the inside of her thigh.  Though perhaps the even greater delight was Lamiroir's bosom, which rubbed against his chest whenever she breathed.

 

Klavier's roaming fingers reached the simple cotton of Lamiroir's undergarments.  He hesitated, realizing…he wasn't entirely confident in this particular area.  Thankfully, Lamiroir was aroused enough by then that she wasn't willing to wait for him to find his bearings.  She reached down, pressing his fingers into just where she wanted them.  And far be it for Klavier to deny a woman what she wanted; he stroked her tenderly, his entire body on edge.

 

"Ahhh…"  Lamiroir murmured something in her own language that Klavier hoped was an obscenity of some kind.  Fueled by his success, he continued his gentle treatment.  Every sharp gasp of breath she took, every slow shudder, he cherished.  When she breathed his name against his own lips his groin positively ached.

 

Long, delicate fingers lowered to Klavier's crotch, and he couldn't help but jump in surprise.  It took him a moment of bewilderment to realize that Lamiroir was unbuttoning his fly, but when he did his stomach turned.  Kissing was one thing.  Rubbing, groping…that was also one thing, but the implication of what she was doing now…was an entirely different thing.  He tried to hide his sudden uncertainty as Lamiroir guided his hand again, this time to the elastic band of her panties.

 

Klavier swallowed hard, and obediently removed the moistened undergarments.  It distracted him enough that by the time he had them off, Lamiroir had finished with the buttons on his jeans.  She twisted easily on top of him, settling her knees on either side of his hips.  When Klavier stared up at her face, he was entranced by the look of peace it held.  Though she was panting softly, and her cheeks were deeply flushed, it wasn't an expression of lust she was fixing him with: it was simply pure affection, almost wise in a surreal way.

 

Klavier didn't realize he had been falling until his back hit the sofa.  With a start he blinked, and found himself flat on his back, staring up at the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.  His heart was pounding so quickly he was beginning to feel faint, making everything but Lamiroir's face swirl out of focus.  He felt her hands at his hips, urging his briefs down.  He very clearly felt his erection spring to freedom in the chilling air of the room, only to be warmed again by the approach of a warm, feminine body.  But as clear as those sensations were, he couldn't bring himself to move.  It was as if all his eagerness from earlier had hit a wall, and he stood at the brink, watching with clenched fascination as Lamiroir lowered herself onto his waiting flesh.

 

The sound that came out of Klavier then was unlike anything he had ever uttered; it was more whimper than anything, drawn out of his throat as sensually as her body was drawing him in.  He was quickly enveloped in slick, heated ecstasy that spread its shivers all the way into his fingers and toes.  Lamiroir was amazing in every way, from the firm embrace of her thighs to the look of calm rapture playing out across her beautiful face.  It couldn't have been more perfect.

 

Klavier shivered beneath her.  "Mein Gott…!" he gasped weakly.  At last he found mobility again, and his hands quickly fastened around her curved hips to help ease her up.  When she rocked back down onto him, his voice emptied from him in another embarrassingly earnest sound of pleasure.  Lamiroir's utterances were much more elegant: soft sighs and gentle hums that gradually strengthened in volume as she rode up and down his straining erection.  They almost seemed to take on a melody, as impossible but enamoring as that was.  Klavier did his best to move with her, but he was too anxious to match her steady pace, and in the end could only hold still and assist as best he could with his hands. 

 

It was more than enough for both of them.  Klavier was quite content just to watch this beautiful creature that was making love to him.  Even though she was still fully clothed he could imagine nothing more erotic than her parted lips and swaying breasts.  He wanted to hang on longer, to be absolutely sure that he had done everything to satisfy her, but when she sped up his strength abruptly seemed to vanish.  His toes curled and teeth clenched, fighting against the pressure that was steadily building in his groin and abdomen.  It was a losing battle from the start.  Lamiroir was too much for him, with her perfect rhythm and silvery voice.  All too soon Klavier's pleasure overwhelmed him, and his voice rose in thick moans as a fierce orgasm shook his tense frame.

 

Lamiroir squirmed, squeezing him with her thighs as they both wound down from the impromptu lovemaking.  Klavier felt dizzy as he stared up at the ceiling.  Though it was the last thing he intended to admit to, the words came tumbling out of him breathlessly.  "That was my first time."

 

Lamiroir chuckled weakly above him.  "A star like you…?"

 

"It never felt…right…before."  Klavier closed his eyes, enjoying the sensation that had been so long in coming.  It wasn't until his euphoria began to fade, and Lamiroir grew very quiet, that he finally realized his mistake.

 

*******

 

"And that," Klavier finished dramatically, "is how I fucked your mother pregnant."

 

"That…that was over a year ago!" Apollo exclaimed, horror struck.  "You couldn't have gotten her pregnant then!"

 

Klavier reflected.  "Well…it could have been at the concert.  Or the night after.  Or a few times every week since then.  Oh!  Or last night."  He winked.  "Your mom is fine, ja?"

 

And then Apollo curled up in a ball and cried forever.

 

 

 

*~*~THE END~*~*

 

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