Watching Him
By SilverRain228
He doesn't know it, but I watch him. Not just to correct his technique either. I watch Kyle more then a piano teacher should watch a student, and much more then I'm supposed to watch a friend. I'm aloud to watch his fingers, how he moves them across the piano so effortlessly, but I'm not supposed to watch his hands when they leave the keys. I'm not supposed to notice there graceful slenderness or imagine what they would feel like running over my skin. I shouldn't stare at the small sliver of skin that becomes visible as he gets up from the piano bench to stretch.
When he walks across the apartment to get a glass of water I'm not supposed to notice how he walks with a slow swagger that's just a little bit sexy without meaning to be. Or how fantastic those jeans make his ass look, an ass which I am most certainly never aloud to grab no matter how much I want to.
I know I'm not supposed to see him as anything but one of my students, but when I think of Kyle so many other things come to mind: Nice, Funny, Sarcastic, Shy, Attractive, Tall, Smart, I get half way down the list before it even occurs to me to associate him with piano. And I know I'm not supposed to think these thoughts. He only just recently told me he was gay and if I keep thinking this way I might do something stupid like try to make a move on him. He would probably think I was taking advantage of him or at the very least he would freak out and that would probably be the end of us. Not that there really even is an "us" to speak of other then a friendship. He is my piano student and my friend, nothing more, but I will sure as hell fight to keep at least that because even this small part of him that I'm aloud to have is better then not having any part of him at all.
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