Twoset Shorts

He sold his soul to the Devil, but his heart remained. (fluff, nsfw)

-Yo, Eddy!
Eddy looked up as his boyfriend came running up to him.
They'd just finished recording for their Sell Out music video and he was sweating still wearing his wig.
The dog-guy and his four-legged friends were just about to leave the studio, Brett turned his head to make sure he'd made it round the corner.
-Paganini, Brett whispered, gently brushing his chin with his fingertips.
-What do you want, MOT-ZART? Eddy said, his voice still in character, cold and hard.
He knew perfectly well what Brett wanted. His eyes were shimmering, with lust and admiration.
Brett's lips moved, slightly apart, he could feel his warm breath, but he didn't answer. He slowly removed his wig.
Eddy's right eyebrow shot up.
-Very well then. What do you want, BRETT? He asked again.
A door slammed shut, and the sound of dogs paws disappeared. They were all alone.
-I...I...just wanna say that... Brett inhaled deeply to try and calm his racing heart.
...I really like your playing.
-Oh, do you now? Paganini looked away, his whole demeanor reeking of arrogance. -They all do, he said and shrugged. -Y'all just tryna be me, don't you? Fucking peasants!
-Well, I guess I've come to terms with the fact that I'll never be as good as you, Brett swallowed hard, and touched him again. His wig, this time.
-I love your hair, Brett whispered, -And... your whole style.
-You're simping, aren't you? A lightening struck in Paganini's eyes as he grabbed a hold of Brett's wrist and more or less threw it away from him.
-You think I'd ever touch a mere mortal like you?
-Well, it's worth a try! Brett's eyes were challenging.
-Anyway! Paganini held up his both palms and sighed in a tired way. -I really don't have time for peasants like you. I've got more important stuff to do.
With lengthy steps he walked away from Brett.
-I can play all of your pieces! Brett said after him.
Paganini quickly turned on his heels and stopped, watching him with a new interest and a different fire in his yellow eyes.
-Can you now?
-Uhu!
Brett nodded quickly, eagerly, that way you do when you're just bullshitting but trying to be as persuasive as possible, desperate to be believed.
-The famous concerto?
Brett nodded.
-How about God save the King?
Brett nodded again.
Paganini squinted at him.
-I don't believe you!, he said. -But I like your guts!
With the same lengthy steps as before, he rushed up to Brett. He stopped, close to him. God, so close! Brett could feel Eddy's body heat radiating through his fabrics, it was like being touched without an actual touch. His breath was rushing.
Eddy let his fingertips brush Brett's ear, slowly tracing down his neck, to his collarbone.
Brett could feel goosebumps prickling on his back, his arms.
-So you think I would want to have fun with a guy, huh?
Brett swallowed hard.
-I've never tried that before, I only do them ladies. But I gotta admit.... feeling your heart beat under my fingers like this, is quite intriguing.
Brett couldn't speak.
He forced himself to look up at him. Yeah, that was a mistake. He immediately felt paralysed, hypnotized, by those flaming, half-evil eyes.
He could feel how his body was starting to tense up its muscles, in a very pleasant way. His head started to spin.

-Let's go home to my place, yeah? Paganini whispered close to his ear.
-Ok
-I'll show you my Strad. D'you like that?
-Y-yes! Brett stuttered softly.
-Maybe I'll let you play it.
Brett swallowed hard again and noticed how his dick was all of a sudden throbbing, pants feeling uncomfortably mismatched.
Paganini was the only person on earth so far that had made Brett having a boner by only mentioning a violin.
Sure, it was a Strad, but anyway...
Perhaps it wasn't that much about the violin after all.

-Let's go home, I'm boiling in this wig.

Eddy had teared his wig off and had taken a couple of steps back.
That was possibly the first time in his life Brett felt a huge disappointment looking at his boyfriend.
He found himself almost teary and pouting from it.
-Why did you break the spell??
-Well, we have to close up and get moving. I wanna go home.
Brett's feet wouldn't move.
-Come on then! Didn't you just sign up to follow along and play Paganini's Strad?