028. Piano
Peace
James Wilson slowly came awake to an empty bed and the soft sounds of the piano drifting in from the other room. He stretched languidly, smiling at the pleasant ache of long unused muscles and rolled onto his back, the sheets bunching at his waist. From this angle he could see the dim light coming from the living room through the open door. He tucked one hand behind his head and listened to the music flowing softly into the room. It took a moment to identify it then it came to him. Chopin's Nocturne.
He shifted slightly on the bed and smiled softly. The smile broadened when the Nocturne was followed by Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata. If ever there was a sign that Greg was feeling at peace with the world, those two pieces of music were it. He'd not heard Greg play them in many years.
He pushed the sheets back and got out of bed, wandering into the living room and leaning against the wall. Greg was sitting at the piano, wearing only a pair of boxers, and from this angle James could not only see the muscles shifting in his back and shoulders as he played but also the almost delicate movement of his hands and fingers over the keys. The dim light being cast from the lamp in the corner allowed James to see that Greg's face was contemplative and calm, his eyes closed and a small smile gracing his lips.
James pushed himself off the wall and drifted over, gently placing his hands on Greg's shoulders. Only the slight broadening of the smile indicated Greg's acknowledgment of his presence, the music still flowed gently, surrounding them both in an air of contentment.
When the sonata came to an end, James tightened his grip ever so slightly and let his thumbs start making tiny caressing circles, gently pressing a kiss into Greg's hair. Greg leaned back into him and let his hands rest on his thighs.
"Didn't mean to wake you," Greg murmured, finally breaking the calm silence that had fallen.
"'S okay," James replied. "Can't sleep?"
"Just thinking."
"Good thoughts?"
Greg smiled as his eyes finally flickered open and he drew James' hands down onto his chest, holding them in his own. "Yeah, definitely good thoughts."
"Good," James said softly. He pulled his hands out of Greg's grip and stepped away, leaving one hand resting on his lover's shoulder. "Come back to bed."
Greg gave him a smile and reached for his cane. He pushed himself to his feet, James' hand falling away, then he reached out to brush the younger man's cheek. "Yes."