Avi Kaplan: A Collection of Short Stories

Tactile Symphony

You play music on his skin.

You realize this sounds strange, especially considering your ineptness in playing any musical instrument (sure, you can plunk out a tune on the piano, but somehow you don't think "Chopsticks" counts). And really, how does one play a human?

The details remain a mystery, but you know you're making music with him because you can feel it in every fiber of your being.

+++

With the first touch you shared—an innocent handshake—you felt shivers run down your spine and branch out to your fingers and toes, causing your entire body to break out in goose bumps. But the shivers were accompanied by a slow crescendo of strings floating through your head.

You pulled your hand away from his slowly and the instant your skin broke contact from his, the strings fell silent into a crash of discord. The din surrounding you suddenly seemed harsh compared to the sound his skin made against yours.

Initially, you blamed this feeling on external circumstances—the weather, the shock of his warm hand in your slightly colder one. The sounds you wrote off on the music playing in the background, your exhaustion, that extra cup of coffee you had earlier in the day.

You wanted to ignore the slow crescendo of strings your heard in your head, because, shit, hearing music when you touched people was crazy, until you heard him speak his name.

Avi.

It fell off his tongue like golden honey and came paired with the low vibrato of a violin.

In that moment you decided you can live with being crazy.

+++

You steal touches from him at every given opportunity.

A slight brush against his arm as you're sitting together watching a movie. (You hear the faint notes of a harp.)

A momentary graze of your fingertips against his as he hands you a cup of coffee. (A banjo, you think.)

You traced the shell of his ear once and heard the swelling chords of upright basses playing lowly. Your fingertips seemed to burn with the sound and you resisted the urge to continue tracing that soft curve of skin.

The soft press of Avi's lips against yours not only sends flutters of anticipation and love straight through your core, but produces the loveliest symphony of sound in your head. Rich, deep sounding horns mixed with light, soaring strings accompanied by a simple piano.

You tremble slightly each time he pulls away from you, not only from the loss of sound, but from the loss of his skin on yours, which creates a sound and vibration that resonates through every cell in your body.

It's a feeling you find infinitely better than the music you hear with each touch.

+++

Avi's hands are all over you and you feel dizzy and delirious from the cacophony of sound swirling around you. You run your hands down his chest, raking lightly through the hair there, and then back up, briefly caressing his shoulders before running your hands up his neck and deep into his hair. Vibrations of that low humming string burn through you, but is altogether different from what you're hearing when Avi touches you, you wonder who's really playing whom.

As his hands slide up your naked back, you hear the scratch of a bow being dragged across cello strings. You respond by grinding your hips down farther on his, sending him deeper within you. His moan vibrates against your shoulder and the note crescendos.

You tilt your head back, your hair brushing lightly against your back. Avi takes the opportunity to explore your newly exposed skin, kissing along your throat and finding the sweet spot where your jaw meets your neck.

The music seems to envelop you, caressing the narrow spaces between your connected bodies and with each staccato thrust of his hips against yours, the music quickens in tempo. Gripping your hips, he moves faster beneath you and you hold on to his shoulders for leverage. He gasps as he comes and you follow shortly after, the music reaching its climax in time with yours. His moans mingle with yours, and—oh God, yes—the sound of your bodies together is greater than any symphony ever composed.

+++

Avi's back is towards you, the sheet pulled low on his hips, exposing the smooth expanse of his back. You know from experience he's a fairly deep sleeper, so you let yourself indulge in his touch. Random smatterings of freckles adorn his skin and as you carefully press your index finger against a freckle just below his right shoulder blade, a low hum seems to vibrate through your fingertip.

Each freckle produces a different tone, something that reminds you of a warm, rich note on a violin. You spend what seems like hours tracing different patterns on his back, creating a seemingly infinite number of musical scores, each one sending shivers down your spine and flooding your mind in brilliant sound.

The constellations you create are unique to him, found only within the universe of his flesh and the synapses of your brain.

You pull away from him as he slowly starts to stir and the sound collapses around you, much like someone slamming on the lowest notes on a piano. Turning towards you, Avi smiles and you blink up at him, feeling the warmth of a blush on your face.

"Did I wake you?" you ask softly, holding your hands to your chest.

He shakes his head, "No, I've been awake for a while."

"Oh, sorry," you mumble, embarrassed.

Avi runs his fingers down along the curve of your jaw and pulls you towards him, his lips meeting yours and creating that same symphony of sound you heard the first time you kissed. You smile against his mouth and you feel him respond in kind. Moving closer, you rest your head lightly on his chest, the sound of his heart mixing with the steady hum of strings in your ear.

"You don't have to apologize for touching me," he whispers into your hair.

"Good, because I like touching you," you say, tracing small circles over his hip bones.

You can feel his grin against your skin, "I've noticed."

Avi kisses your forehead, the tip of your nose, the underside of your chin and with each progressive kiss down your body, the music his lips play on your skin intensifies and you succumb to the sound.

+++

Avi runs his fingertips along the delicate curve of your shoulder. Sound asleep, you don't feel his touch or hear the sound it produces. But as his fingers continue to glide over your skin, he hears the lilting notes of a flute.

Avi never tells you, but he hears the music, too.