Apollo sat at the square kitchen table, one finger idly scratching at a stain on the synthetic surface while the other hand supported the side of his face. His gaze flicked from the offending mark to his mostly untouched coffee for a moment before sliding back to glare at the dark discoloring, which was stubbornly refusing to come off under his diligent efforts.

Despite it being a rare day off, Apollo's internal clock had woken him up frustratingly early and trying to fall back asleep had proven fruitless. So he had slipped out of bed, pulled on a pair of boxerbriefs, a t-shirt, and a robe, then padded into the kitchen to make a pot of coffee. Part of him felt overdressed, but a slightly larger part of him still felt uncomfortable walking around the Wright home in just his undergarments.

Which, he supposed, was sort of ridiculous. Trucy wasn't even home, she was already at school. And even if she had been home, did it really matter so much as long as he was decent? Trucy had no qualms about walking about in oversized t-shirts and absurdly short shorts – Mr. Wright was horrified his little girl would wear such things and kept threatening he'd burn them someday – while she was at home, even before they had been told they were brother and sister.

And ever since Trucy had found out that not only was Apollo her brother, but that he was gay, too, she kept trying to drag him into all kinds of embarrassing situations, like sleepovers, complete with nail polish and popcorn, or gushing about how hot she thought so-and-so celebrity was and didn't Apollo think he was hot too? The latter made court especially difficult the next day when Trucy was going through one of her periodic Prosecutor Gavin-obsessed cycles because then all Apollo could see was the shirtless poster of Klavier of the Gavinners with the low-rise leather pants Trucy had gotten out of one of her teeny magazines and kept shoving in his face. Arrogant jerk or not, Prosecutor Gavin was still very handsome, not to mention a formidable opponent in the courtroom, and Apollo really didn't need any distractions when facing him.

As for Mr. Wri- – Phoenix, Apollo corrected himself – it was completely ridiculous to feel like he had to put on a robe when Phoenix had seen him unclothed so many times now. Apollo blushed at the thought. He took a sip of his coffee and resisted the urge to spit it out as he noticed with mild disgust that the acrid drink had gone cold.

Apollo mused for a second whether or not to pour out the coffee and get a new cup from the carafe or to just microwave his current cup before his frugal side admonished him for considering wasting a cup of perfectly fine coffee, especially when Mr. Wr- 'Phoenix, dammit! You're sleeping with the man, the least you can do it call him by his first name' – would want some too when he got up. Blush back in full force, he punched in the numbers on the beat up old microwave to reheat his coffee.

Hero worship was a dangerous thing, Apollo decided as the microwave hummed. If he had ever gotten the courage to admit his crush to Mr. Gavin, he would have – well, maybe, anyway – wound up sleeping with a psychopath. And now he was sleeping with his half-sister's adoptive father. What did that make him? Was he still just her brother? Some kind of adoptive step-father figure? It made his head hurt to think about it.

Apollo jumped slightly when he felt strong arms wrap around him from behind and a stubbly cheek graze across his own.

"You look ridiculous in that robe."

"You don't get to say anything. It's your old one."

"Touché. But I always managed to make panda print look good. But then again, it does make you look awful cute." Phoenix spun Apollo around in his arms to face him and kissed him. "Good morning."

"Hi. …you taste like morning mouth." Apollo grimaced ever so slightly. Phoenix just laughed. Despite his lackadaisical attitude, Apollo couldn't help but notice how his throat felt just a bit constricted and his heart fluttered like a happy butterfly – but only a little – at seeing Phoenix, especially when the older man was just wearing a pair of boxers.

"And you taste like sour coffee. Special blend number eighty three indeed," Phoenix mock-glared with a smirk at the coffee bag beside the coffee maker. At this, Apollo quirked an eyebrow, but said nothing. He was used to Phoenix's eccentricities by now, for the most part. Phoenix just laughed again.

Apollo felt sure that Phoenix wasn't going to elaborate any further and turned around in his – lover's? mentor's? – arms as he heard the microwave ding, Phoenix's chin coming to rest comfortably on his shoulder. He paused, thinking over the strange family that had been created in his life. He was sleeping with his half-sister's adoptive father… wasn't that kind of… incestuous? The idea made him feel guilty and a little wrong. Was it really right to be in this kind of relationship? Would other people accept them, if and when they came out as a couple?

"Hey," Phoenix whispered in his ear. "I love you."

Ignoring the newly warmed coffee and the open door of the microwave, Apollo turned around to face the older man yet again.

"I love you too." Phoenix grinned in response, and Apollo nuzzled into his neck to hide the blush that he was sure was staining his cheeks. Smiling into Phoenix's neck as the older man continued to hold him, he guessed it really didn't matter what labels they used for each other. Phoenix and Trucy were his family. And all that mattered was that they loved each other.

Author Notes:

I don't know that I got across the emotions I was trying to convey here. I think that maybe they're there, but they could be a lot clearer? I dunno. I was aiming for subtlety too, but maybe things could have been stronger? Somehow I think this would have been easier to write had I had an actual plot outlined in my head rather than just emotions I wanted to convey.

Comments and constructive criticisms are welcomed, since this is the first time I've written in this fandom. Although I feel like I should be filling out kink meme requests, I got inspired to write this and I've learned not to ignore inspiration lest it leave me.

I really wanted to include the phrase "At least it's not pink" when they were talking about the robe, but I couldn't make it fit any where. Also, concerning the robe, I'm not quite sure about the print I gave it. The first thing that popped into my head was Hello Kitty, but that seemed too girly for Nick to have owned. Then I thought of Kermit the Frog. But for some reason I didn't like that much either, probably because I had a very specific image of that print in my head and wanted people to see the same thing I did, but I felt that including such a specific description would have broken the flow.