[fic] When No One Is Listening
Nov. 12th, 2008 04:33 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
kiyala.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
shannys_cornerTitle: When No One Is Listening
Original Thread: here
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
kiyala
Word Count: 1244
Fandom: Ace Attorney
Pairing: Daryan Crescend / Klavier Gavin
Rating: PG
Warnings: gay men
Disclaimer: CAPCOM own Ace Attorney
Prompt: Klavier is alone in the recording studio, playing an acoustic guitar to a song, singing a romantic and sweet song.
Daryan happens to walk by, and hears it.
He makes fun of Klavier big time.
Only thing is, Daryan actually loved it.
Make me have cavities, Anon. <3
He’d known from the moment he’d heard the gentle strumming. From the very second the sound had reached his ears. That was Klavier’s guitar. The acoustic one that lived in that big glass case in the prosecutor’s office most of the time.
It only came out when Klavier was in that strange mood – the one where his voice was quieter than normal and there was a softer, distracted look in his eyes that no one really knew the meaning behind.
Daryan frowned, taking out the mild irritation that accompanied the thought by jabbing a button of the vending machine, to be rewarded with the satisfying thud of his bottle of Coke falling down the chute. He opened it, bringing it to his lips and heard the guitar stop. He raised an eyebrow, glancing in the direction of the recording room to see the recording light turn on.
*
Klavier sat with his back to the door, unaware that he’d left the door slightly ajar, letting the sound escape through the gap to where Daryan stood, listening to him.
He counted the beats in his head, his eyes shut as he strummed. Four bars for the intro before he sang into the microphone in front of him. The song was an old one; he’d found it in one of the battered music folders at the back of his closet a week ago. His handwriting, the notes he’d scribbled into the margin and the way it sounded when he’d plucked out the tune on his acoustic all dated it back to when he was fifteen. He had been in high school, a month out of his relationship with one of the school cheerleaders and more importantly, it was when Daryan had started dating said cheerleader’s best friend.
I’m a hypocrite, it’s true, he sang quietly, playing by feel rather than sight. Just a fool in love with you.
It had been one of the only songs he’d written to reflect his own emotions. The last, of what couldn’t have been more than a handful. Those songs were memories stored in plastic sheets of old folders now, faded until he couldn’t recall them without a cue like this.
The song was just under two minutes – he hadn’t yet mastered the art of writing longer songs at that point and he couldn’t see the point of editing it now. It was over soon after it had begun and Klavier leaned across to the control panel, stopping the recording. As he took his headphones off, he heard the door open behind him. He knew it was Daryan even before he heard the quiet snort of laughter.
“Recording a demo? Hope you’re not planning on putting that sappy shit on our next album.”
It wasn’t unusual for Daryan to insult the songs he didn’t like, but this was the first time he’d done it to a song that had been written based on Klavier’s own emotion. Written about Daryan, no less. The words cut deeper than he expected and it was a struggle to keep his expression passive.
“Relax, I don’t plan on releasing it.” Klavier replied, sliding his hand over the curve of his guitar’s polished wooden body. “Just an old song I found. I simply wanted it on a disc to add to my collection of personal projects.”
“You’re sentimental as hell, aren’t you?” Daryan scoffed, taking another sip of his bottle of Coke, which was almost empty already. “Was this one of the songs you wrote in high school? About one of the chicks you screwed?”
A muscle in Klavier’s jaw twitched and he looked down at his guitar, strumming the chord progression for the intro.
“I don’t remember,” he lied easily, “Sounds like something from high school though, doesn’t it?”
Daryan took the guitar out of Klavier’s hands. It was left-handed. For some reason, Klavier was partial to left-handed acoustics – he’d only play right-handed ones if they were somebody else’s. He fought off the temptation to play the notes he’d heard and smirked instead.
“Planning on using this song in the background next time you’re trying to get some pretty lady out of her panties for you? You know – invite her over and just say you’ll put some music on before you go oh whoops, I didn’t mean to leave that one in to have her stop you from turning it off because aww, it’s so fuckin’ sweet …isn’t that right?”
Klavier massaged his temples and smirked. “Clearly you’re underestimating me if you think I use such childish techniques. Just because you do that, it doesn’t mean I do.”
“Haha, yeah whatever. Just wait ‘til the rest of the band hears this,” Daryan took the empty seat at the control panel and sang in a purposefully whiny voice, “Just a foool in love with yoooouuuuu!”
“Ach, shut up Daryan,” Klavier muttered with a frown and a blush. “That’s not how it sounds at all.”
“It’s how it sounds to me,” the guitarist shot back, still grinning. “Your fault for writing it.”
Rolling his eyes at Daryan’s back, Klavier got to his feet. “I’m getting a drink. More Coke for you, ja?”
“Appreciated!” Daryan called out after him.
*
“Tell me, Herr Crescend,” Klavier spoke with a raised eyebrow. “What is this?”
“Uh…” Daryan’s eyes darted to his sides as he fumbled with the remote. The room went silent as the sound system was turned off. “…I didn’t mean to leave that one in?”
“Funny.” The blond’s tone made it clear that it was anything but. “Explain yourself.”
“I stole it,” Daryan confessed. “…When you went out of the room to get us drinks, remember? Made a copy for myself.”
“To laugh at my expense?” Klavier demanded. “In case all those times you sang your own terrible version of it at band practices weren’t enough?”
“Fuck, you’re an idiot,” Daryan muttered. He turned his sound system back on and pointed at the display on the screen. “What does that tell you, dumb ass?”
Klavier’s gaze shifted to the small text that ran across the screen, reading it aloud. “…Klavier’s song…?”
“And?”
Klavier frowned, looking for more. Then he noticed it, right at the corner of the small screen. An arrow bent into a sideways U.
“…R-Repeat? You have it on repeat?”
Daryan pressed a button and the display went blank again. He threw the remote in the direction of the couch, not caring where it landed. Klavier tried to catch his eye, but the dark-haired man was resolutely looking away.
“…That song is about you, you know.”
“Yeah. I know.”
Klavier’s eyebrows shot up. “How?”
Daryan sighed. “The way you write your lyrics and music changes every now and then. Matures, I guess. I’m being totally honest when I tell you that this song sucks in comparison to what it’d be if you wrote it now. But… I dunno. It had a feel to it that reminded me of the first songs you showed me, that we played together. I had a listen to them, compared them to this. The rest was… well, obvious. You’re just about as subtle as that chain around your neck, man.”
The singer laughed quietly. “Of course.” He held onto the front of Daryan’s jacket, pulling him closer so he only needed to tilt his head up a fraction to kiss him. “You could have just asked me, though.”
Chuckling, Daryan kissed him back. “Out of the question.”
x
Original Thread: here
Author:
kiyalaWord Count: 1244
Fandom: Ace Attorney
Pairing: Daryan Crescend / Klavier Gavin
Rating: PG
Warnings: gay men
Disclaimer: CAPCOM own Ace Attorney
Prompt: Klavier is alone in the recording studio, playing an acoustic guitar to a song, singing a romantic and sweet song.
Daryan happens to walk by, and hears it.
He makes fun of Klavier big time.
Only thing is, Daryan actually loved it.
Make me have cavities, Anon. <3
He’d known from the moment he’d heard the gentle strumming. From the very second the sound had reached his ears. That was Klavier’s guitar. The acoustic one that lived in that big glass case in the prosecutor’s office most of the time.
It only came out when Klavier was in that strange mood – the one where his voice was quieter than normal and there was a softer, distracted look in his eyes that no one really knew the meaning behind.
Daryan frowned, taking out the mild irritation that accompanied the thought by jabbing a button of the vending machine, to be rewarded with the satisfying thud of his bottle of Coke falling down the chute. He opened it, bringing it to his lips and heard the guitar stop. He raised an eyebrow, glancing in the direction of the recording room to see the recording light turn on.
*
Klavier sat with his back to the door, unaware that he’d left the door slightly ajar, letting the sound escape through the gap to where Daryan stood, listening to him.
He counted the beats in his head, his eyes shut as he strummed. Four bars for the intro before he sang into the microphone in front of him. The song was an old one; he’d found it in one of the battered music folders at the back of his closet a week ago. His handwriting, the notes he’d scribbled into the margin and the way it sounded when he’d plucked out the tune on his acoustic all dated it back to when he was fifteen. He had been in high school, a month out of his relationship with one of the school cheerleaders and more importantly, it was when Daryan had started dating said cheerleader’s best friend.
I’m a hypocrite, it’s true, he sang quietly, playing by feel rather than sight. Just a fool in love with you.
It had been one of the only songs he’d written to reflect his own emotions. The last, of what couldn’t have been more than a handful. Those songs were memories stored in plastic sheets of old folders now, faded until he couldn’t recall them without a cue like this.
The song was just under two minutes – he hadn’t yet mastered the art of writing longer songs at that point and he couldn’t see the point of editing it now. It was over soon after it had begun and Klavier leaned across to the control panel, stopping the recording. As he took his headphones off, he heard the door open behind him. He knew it was Daryan even before he heard the quiet snort of laughter.
“Recording a demo? Hope you’re not planning on putting that sappy shit on our next album.”
It wasn’t unusual for Daryan to insult the songs he didn’t like, but this was the first time he’d done it to a song that had been written based on Klavier’s own emotion. Written about Daryan, no less. The words cut deeper than he expected and it was a struggle to keep his expression passive.
“Relax, I don’t plan on releasing it.” Klavier replied, sliding his hand over the curve of his guitar’s polished wooden body. “Just an old song I found. I simply wanted it on a disc to add to my collection of personal projects.”
“You’re sentimental as hell, aren’t you?” Daryan scoffed, taking another sip of his bottle of Coke, which was almost empty already. “Was this one of the songs you wrote in high school? About one of the chicks you screwed?”
A muscle in Klavier’s jaw twitched and he looked down at his guitar, strumming the chord progression for the intro.
“I don’t remember,” he lied easily, “Sounds like something from high school though, doesn’t it?”
Daryan took the guitar out of Klavier’s hands. It was left-handed. For some reason, Klavier was partial to left-handed acoustics – he’d only play right-handed ones if they were somebody else’s. He fought off the temptation to play the notes he’d heard and smirked instead.
“Planning on using this song in the background next time you’re trying to get some pretty lady out of her panties for you? You know – invite her over and just say you’ll put some music on before you go oh whoops, I didn’t mean to leave that one in to have her stop you from turning it off because aww, it’s so fuckin’ sweet …isn’t that right?”
Klavier massaged his temples and smirked. “Clearly you’re underestimating me if you think I use such childish techniques. Just because you do that, it doesn’t mean I do.”
“Haha, yeah whatever. Just wait ‘til the rest of the band hears this,” Daryan took the empty seat at the control panel and sang in a purposefully whiny voice, “Just a foool in love with yoooouuuuu!”
“Ach, shut up Daryan,” Klavier muttered with a frown and a blush. “That’s not how it sounds at all.”
“It’s how it sounds to me,” the guitarist shot back, still grinning. “Your fault for writing it.”
Rolling his eyes at Daryan’s back, Klavier got to his feet. “I’m getting a drink. More Coke for you, ja?”
“Appreciated!” Daryan called out after him.
*
“Tell me, Herr Crescend,” Klavier spoke with a raised eyebrow. “What is this?”
“Uh…” Daryan’s eyes darted to his sides as he fumbled with the remote. The room went silent as the sound system was turned off. “…I didn’t mean to leave that one in?”
“Funny.” The blond’s tone made it clear that it was anything but. “Explain yourself.”
“I stole it,” Daryan confessed. “…When you went out of the room to get us drinks, remember? Made a copy for myself.”
“To laugh at my expense?” Klavier demanded. “In case all those times you sang your own terrible version of it at band practices weren’t enough?”
“Fuck, you’re an idiot,” Daryan muttered. He turned his sound system back on and pointed at the display on the screen. “What does that tell you, dumb ass?”
Klavier’s gaze shifted to the small text that ran across the screen, reading it aloud. “…Klavier’s song…?”
“And?”
Klavier frowned, looking for more. Then he noticed it, right at the corner of the small screen. An arrow bent into a sideways U.
“…R-Repeat? You have it on repeat?”
Daryan pressed a button and the display went blank again. He threw the remote in the direction of the couch, not caring where it landed. Klavier tried to catch his eye, but the dark-haired man was resolutely looking away.
“…That song is about you, you know.”
“Yeah. I know.”
Klavier’s eyebrows shot up. “How?”
Daryan sighed. “The way you write your lyrics and music changes every now and then. Matures, I guess. I’m being totally honest when I tell you that this song sucks in comparison to what it’d be if you wrote it now. But… I dunno. It had a feel to it that reminded me of the first songs you showed me, that we played together. I had a listen to them, compared them to this. The rest was… well, obvious. You’re just about as subtle as that chain around your neck, man.”
The singer laughed quietly. “Of course.” He held onto the front of Daryan’s jacket, pulling him closer so he only needed to tilt his head up a fraction to kiss him. “You could have just asked me, though.”
Chuckling, Daryan kissed him back. “Out of the question.”
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