“Dan?” Phil calls from the doorway. The only light comes from a small lamp by the piano that emphasises Dan’s tired eyes. “It’s 3am. Why are you still up?”
“Did I wake you?” Dan asks, stifling a yawn. “I couldn’t sleep. Thought you were and went to play piano. Maybe it’d make me tired.”
“You definitely look tired. What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong,” he mumbles, his fingers pressing delicately on the piano keys. “Just can’t sleep.”
“Of course.” Phil tells him, sitting down next to him on the uncomfortably small stool. “You need a bigger stool.”
“The stool people don’t expect you to have friends on the stool with you.” Dan says.
“Is that really what they think of their customers?”
“Must be.” Dan sighs and continues to play the piano. His fingers glide gracefully over the keys, the gentlest pressure applied to each one making a beautiful sound.
“I wish I could do that.” Phil says quietly, mesmerised. When Dan plays piano, it’s time to be quiet, and appreciate it as much as possible. Also, to try not to communicate, because you’re lucky if you get an answer with more than five words.
“I’d teach you, but I’ve seen your attempts. It’d take ages.”
“We’ve got ages.” Phil says quietly, his shining blue eyes finding their way to Dan’s deep brown. They lock for an infinite moment before Dan turns to find the correct places for his fingertips to go.
“This one’s easy.” He says quietly, his voice as soothing as the sounds from the instrument. Dan’s different when he plays. It’s like music is a key that opens up a deeper side of him. His eyes glisten in a way brown eyes shouldn’t, his body relaxed in a way almost inhuman, his expression softer than velvet.
Phil tries to mimic Dan’s flawless act, but stumbles a few times. “It’s your fingers,” he says. “You need to stretch them.”
“Is that a thing?” Phil asks him.
“I do it.”
“Oh.” Phil starts to spread his fingers as far apart as possible and curls them up to release them again. “You really do this?”
“Yes. Keep going.” Dan says with a grin. Phil rolls his eyes and presses his hands against one another, pushing the fingertips apart.
“This is starting to hurt.”
“That means it’s working.”
“What if I get arthritis?”
“Then I will buy you a card with a lion on.”
Phil shrugs and continues. “Now can I try again?”
“Sure.” Dan flows into piano mode and starts to sweep his fingers over the keys again. “Your turn.”
Phil tries again, and finds that he’s doing a lot better.
“Now we’ll do it together. You stay there, and I’ll play it down here. Focus. Let yourself relax.”
Dan and Phil lean to their separate ends of the piano and start to play. They’re slightly out of time, which Phil notices. He glances at Dan to apologise sheepishly, but he’s smiling to himself, obviously too engulfed to notice Phil’s flaws. Phil smiles too, and tries his best to keep going. They’re only repeating the same few keys over and over, so it eventually gets easier.
“I’ll teach you the next part” Dan says quietly after they’ve played the same little part so much that they’re in sync. He puts his hands nearer to Phil and presses a key. “You start there.” He moves his hands back down and plays a little more. He looks at Phil, who nods. Phil tries to mimic him.
“Wait,” Dan says after Phil’s tried a few times. “You go down towards me on that bit. So like this.” He leans over and plays Phil’s part for him a few times. “Try now.”
He gives it a few tries before Dan plays a slightly different piece on top of it. Phil’s still not brilliant, but he’s getting there.
Dan soon changes what he’s playing while Phil’s stays the same. Dan’s part is higher than before but still lower than Phil’s.
Phil’s hand somehow manages to fall flat on the keyboard like a little man tripping on the bumpy path. The key he falls on happens to be the same key Dan was about to press, and his hand collapses on top of Phil’s. After a moment, Dan starts to curl his fingers around Phil’s and they sit quietly as the note stops playing. Dan is the first to glance up at Phil, and catch his eye. They’re both a little pink in the face as they slide their hands off the piano, still clinging to each other. The silence says a thousand words, and their eyes close as their bodies relax. Dan’s free hand wraps around Phil and he brings him closer until their lips are pressed together in a passionate show of affection. Their bodies entwined, Phil’s hand gently touches Dan’s curling hair and stays fixed behind his head.
They pull apart a little later, meek, childish grins stuck on their blushing faces. Phil looks away and notices that their hands are still together, and clutches him tighter. Dan tries to say something but his voice fails him and he smiles even more. Minutes pass as the two sit there in peace, their eyebrows raising and lowering as they wish to speak but don’t, their breathing exactly in time.
“I, uh...” Phil says in a whisper so quiet it’s barely audible. “I’m going to go to bed.” He squeezes Dan’s hand tightly before loosening his grip. Dan does the same, and takes his hand away to play the piano. “Goodnight, Phil.”
“Goodnight.”
