I recommend listening to this while reading as it was what I listened to while writing. Jonghyun has gained my respect...majorly!

http://www.youtuberepeat.com/watch/?v=XyCZBtavIxE&feature=related

There was something y about a piano. Maybe it was the sleek black shine that covered the carved wood. Maybe it was the clear, resonating sound of each key making the hammer hit the string. The way they all blurred together, creating this mystical thing called music, bewildered Sungmin and he found himself entranced by the sound. It was almost as though he could feel each vibration going through him. As he approached the instrument and set his fingers on the delicate wood he could. As each note was played the vibrations of the string traveled through the wood and up his finger tips. Each key was different. The lower notes were a stronger vibration as they echoed loud and deep in the room around him. The higher notes, on the other hand, were shorter as the delicate fingers of the musician hurried over them in the rushed melody. The vibrations from these were less than those from the supporting notes of the left hand. As the piece continued and the music flowed Sungmin found himself closing his eyes and ears, letting the feeling of the music flow through his finger tips. People thought he was mad when he tried to describe this to them. The way he ‘listened’ by shutting out everything other than the feel of the music was to him in a way that only one person understood: Henry. Henry’s hands slid over the keys in perfect rhythm, never faltering or missing a step but working together in perfect synch to create something so bewitching that Sungmin never found words to show how much he fully appreciated it.

Then again, maybe it wasn’t only the piano Sungmin found y. Maybe it was the pianist himself. He opened his eyes to watch Henry’s fingers glide over the instrument, slowing them down in his mind. He observed the fine tuned muscles of his hands move beneath the milky skin as they moved faster, then slower. The bones in his left hand popped up more than those in his right. The skin between his fingers stretched taut as he reached for the awkward octave. One finger slipped over the other in a tricky cross, brushing the one underneath it gently. All the while the music was flowing freely around them, coursing through Sungmin’s body as he felt that connection that words cannot describe. That connection that left them breathless, that only the other understood. Behind all the expressions and crescendos, behind all the crosses and rifts, behind all the octave changes and ties Sungmin felt Henry. He felt him in a way that was never achieved through words, a simple touch, or even when they made love. This connection was raw, a bridge that only the two of them could cross into the other’s soul.

Sungmin let his eyes wander from the hands that he loved so much and up his arms. They rose and then fell as Henry changed octaves, almost as smoothly as a bird flying with the wind. His eyes passed over the slender arms that’s weren’t as muscled as they used to be, but Sungmin preferred him like this. He liked the feeling that Henry was fragile beneath his rough grip. Henry’s chest rose and fell in a perfect rhythm with the music. This was how Sungmin knew that he had lost himself. When Henry’s breathing slipped into time with the beat of the music, it was over. Henry was gone and Sungmin would soon follow. His face was in a twisted expression that Sungmin loved. His lips were slightly parted as the air passed lightly between them. He was always a mouth breather when he played. The gorgeous brown eyes that Sungmin loved so much were closed as Henry didn’t need to see the music in front of him to play this piece anymore. They did this so often that it was habitual in the most masochistic sense of the manner. This was their escape, their drug. The other members thought that they were practicing, locked up in one of SM’s practice rooms, if only they knew. All musicians are insane to an extent, but this, this was beyond the norm.

Sungmin moved to stand behind Henry, not touching him but leaning down to kiss the nape of his neck. The action made Henry jump and he let out a raspy gasp, but he didn’t halt his playing in the slightest. Instead he moved over on the bench, making room for Sungmin. Obeyingm Sungmin sat down beside Henry, making sure that they weren’t touching in anyway. Physical contact would only distract them from the connection that the craved so much. At the perfect time, Sungmin joined in Henry’s playing.

Duets were difficult, and it took a certain level of non-verbal communication to pull it off. Henry and Sungmin never had this problem. Their hands worked together in perfect harmony as they played. The music was beautiful, but it was quickly forgotten. The only thing they heard was their own heart beats and the breathing of the other next to them. They didn’t really know if it was their own heart beat or their own breathing as they were in synch. One breath in and one breath out; one measure passed. Their eyes closed as they slipped into that oblivion, that other dimension that belonged only to them. It was better than bliss as the rest of the world was forgotten and the only thing that mattered was the keys beneath their fingers and the feeling of merging themselves into one being.

Then it was over.

The music was over and the sound of quiet returned as they came back to reality, hands still resting on the ivory keys. Movement halted as the world around them stilled until they were fully aware of where they were and what was happening. Somebody may have turned first, but it didn’t matter as they looked at each other. Small smiles played on their lips and their eyes were dark. They were still connected as they had been while they were playing. It didn’t matter that the piece was over and that they had returned back to Earth; they were still connected as they had been while their fingers slid over ivory to create something so beautiful words could not describe it. It was better than any man made drug; it was their own personal high. It was something that only the two of them and that piano could achieve. It was something that nobody would fully understand; no matter how hard they tried to explain it. It was their guilty pleasure, their form of ecstasy. It was their love.