
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/27752.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Gyakuten_Saiban_|_Ace_Attorney
  Relationship:
      Apollo_Justice/Machi_Tobaye
  Character:
      Apollo_Justice_(character), Machi_Tobaye, Trucy_Wright
  Additional Tags:
      Humor, Smut, Kink_Meme
  Stats:
      Published: 2008-10-20 Words: 1460
****** Foreign Exchanges ******
by alienchrist
Summary
     Machi wants to learn all about American life... and all about Apollo.
Borginians kiss to say hello. At least, that's what Machi told Apollo.
He had his suspicions. Machi only ever kissed Lamiroir and Trucy on the cheek.
But he didn't want to be rude and question a culture he didn't understand, so
he just went with it.
Sure, it was startling the first time. Machi just ran up to him and planted a
kiss on his lips like it was nothing. When Apollo stood there sputtering, Machi
patted his cheek. "This is Borginian hello," he informed him.
"Oh… hello Machi."
Trucy laughed behind her hand and Apollo sent her a glare. Later, he would
lecture her about sensitivity and tolerance.
After his charges of smuggling were dropped, Machi asked for and was granted
asylum in the US. Now, Lamiroir worked with Mr. Wright to have the teen legally
adopted. Between the paperwork and preparation for her upcoming surgery,
Lamiroir didn't have much time for Machi. Thus, she named Apollo Machi's
'American touchstone' and tasked the two young men to learn more about each
other's countries.
So Machi walked home with Trucy every day. He'd throw his arms around Apollo
and kiss him hello, and then it was time for them to do some American activity.
 
They went to the movies. Machi sat next to him and grabbed his arm when
something frightening happened. Clung to him and wept when the movie got sad.
The boy was so affected by the movie that he didn't let go even as the credits
rolled and the lights went up.
"Um, Machi, hey. The movie's over. Are you okay?"
"Is Borginian way, to become so emotional," said Machi with a sniff, rubbing
the corner of one eye.
"That's great, I can see you're really sensitive. The thing is, we're both
guys, and here in America…"
Machi was still holding onto his arm as they left the theater. He simply said,
"Borginian way better," and refused to hear Apollo's argument. For such a
sylphlike little thing, Machi had a grip of steel.
Trucy was oblivious to Apollo's distress. "Next week, let's go to a live-action
one! Maybe something rated PG-13!"
 
Ice cream was even more of a problem. Even after Trucy insisted on sampling
every flavor in the shop, Machi settled on plain vanilla.
"Borginians prefer the simple taste," he said.
Trucy tucked into her scoops of cotton candy and bubblegum flavors fast enough
to get repeated headaches. Apollo daintily ate his cup of raspberry sorbet.
Meanwhile, Machi took far too long with his cone of vanilla.
He seemed to enjoy licking it quite slowly. If Apollo didn't know better, he
would have almost deemed it lascivious. The ice cream melted quickly from
Machi's body heat. Little rivulets of vanilla ran down his lips and chin as he
sloooowly swept his tongue around and around the cone.
Machi wasn't doing it on purpose. That was probably how everyone ate their ice
cream in Borginian. He absolutely didn't mean anything by it. Apollo reminded
himself of that repeatedly. The only other conclusion was a bit disturbing. And
maybe a bit arousing.
"Machi," Apollo said weakly, "If you were going to eat it that slowly, m-maybe
we should've gotten you a dish instead."
Machi grinned, wiping some of the stickiness from his chin with his fingers and
licking them clean. He murmured something in his native tongue. Apollo couldn't
understand the words, but he was impressed by the melodic tonality of his
phrases. The way Machi's words seemed like silk along a cat's back. Something
about it was… well, he hated to think of it this way, but, sexy.
"Wh-what? English please, Machi."
"I like this way," said Machi.
Somehow, it seemed like he said more than that. "N-napkin?" Apollo offered.
 
The cultural learning experience reached its apex on a shopping trip. Machi's
classmates bullied and teased him over his lacy Borginian clothes. One of them
shoved him; Machi gave the kid a black eye. Machi was sent to the principal's
office and subjected to a stiff speech about how cross-dressing was school
inappropriate. In other words, Machi needed to dress like a normal American boy
or face the consequence. He was blamed for the entire conflict.
Apollo pointed out they could make a good case for discrimination. There were
so many things wrong with the principal's statement that he didn't know where
to begin. He was ready to bolt to the school, yellow legal pad in hand, when
Machi just raised his hand.
"I'm serious, Machi, they can't treat you like that. If you were a girl, this
wouldn't be a problem—"
Machi pushed his sunglasses up into his hair. "I am no girl, Mr. Yoostis."
He leaned forward and pressed that hello-kiss to Apollo's lips.
"Hello, Machi," Apollo stammered. Didn't they do this once today?
"That was kiss of thanks. Help me with clothes now. I not so good with the
buttons and zippers, since I pretend to be blind, my fingers clumsy for it."
And so it was that Apollo found himself wedged into a department store dressing
room with armfuls of clothes. Machi wasn't the least bit shy about disrobing in
front of him, right down to his lacy little panties.
They weren't panties, Apollo reminded himself. They're Borginian underwear, and
it's just a cultural thing and it has a very different meaning and stop looking
at his cute little butt, the boy's fourteen.
Machi chose a variety of outfits. Occasionally he asked for Apollo's input, but
despite what he said, the boy seemed in no need of assistance with his buttons
and zippers. For someone who feigned blindness for many years, he had it all
well in hand, and a sharp sense of style to boot.
After the clothes were sorted into piles of 'keep' and 'take back,' Machi stood
regarding Apollo. There wasn't much room at all for him to do this. Apollo
swallowed. He could see the faint outline of Machi's semi-hard dick against the
lace of his underwear, and tried to look anywhere else but there. Instead, his
brown eyes met intense blue.
Machi dropped to a kneel, palming Apollo's crotch.
"H-hey!"
Machi slid his hand up, working the fabric over Apollo's rapidly stiffening
shaft.
"Machi," Apollo hissed, "You're fourteen. Just a kid. This isn't right."
Machi chuckled, said something in Borginian, and pulled Apollo from his pants.
"English please," Apollo strained to say.
"In Borginia," Machi said, sliding his tongue around Apollo's shaft, "Fourteen
very grown up."
Perhaps the little display with the ice cream cone was more demonstrative than
Apollo had wanted to believe. Machi licked and sucked him skillfully, hardly
making a sound. Apollo bit down on his knuckles to keep from moaning.
Machi swallowed him completely, seemed to give Apollo a wordless signal. Apollo
bucked his hips, fingers twined in yellow hair, once, twice, three times. He
came. Machi pulled away, letting him drip over his chin just like the vanilla
ice cream.
He licked his lips and spoke again in Borginian. Apollo let it go, just soaking
in the natural beauty of his foreign friend. Machi's skin was pale and
flawless, almost luminescent, even in the drab light of the dressing room. His
cheeks held a faint blush, and the stickiness on his lips just served to make
him more fetching. Still, just the same…
Apollo fished around in his pocket. "Hanky?"
 
It was decided that Machi stay with the Wright household the night Lamiroir
went in for surgery. Mr. Wright insisted they didn't all need to take up space
in the lobby for the 16 hours the surgery would take, and Trucy left to do her
gig at the Wonderbar. That left Apollo and Machi alone in the apartment in
companionable silence. Everything had gone as usual tonight, even the hello
kiss, and now they sat drinking Machi's favorite cinnamon and cardamom tea.
"Machi," said Apollo after awhile. "You've taught me many things about your
customs. For this to be a proper exchange of cultural ideas, I need to expose
you to some of mine, too."
Machi looked up from his tea. "More than American movies and ice cream?"
Apollo nodded. He grasped Machi lightly by the chin and kissed him, pushing his
tongue past his lips. Machi gasped, lips parting to the intrusion, cautiously
touching tongue to his. This went on for what felt like a long time – a
blissful, delicate feeling of toying tongues.
"That," said Apollo after he pulled away, "Is called a French kiss."
Machi chuckled, punching Apollo lightly on the arm. "Then is not American
custom! Cheater!"
"That was just hello," Apollo smirked. He grasped Machi by the shoulders,
gently pulling him to lay out on the couch. "Now I'm going to teach you what
Americans call 'making love.'"
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