There are some days when Junmyeon detests the sound of music. The notes never sound perfect beneath his fingers, and hours of practice have to follow each section before they fit naturally together.

It’s raining outside, Junmyeon thinks, as Jongdae gestures for him to sit at the piano bench. He puts the sheet music on the stand, listening to the gentle rhythm of raindrops falling against the shingles of the roof overhead. It’s a dreary day, has been dreary since he stepped outside with the gray clouds overhead. The smell of the rain seeps in through the thin walls of the old apartment, and he wonders if the frantically working ants outside have found their way in as well.

Jongdae walks into the room, carrying a mug of coffee. There’s still steam drifting over the brim of the cup, and he sets it down on the wooden desk next to the piano. Jongdae is dressed simply in a large T-shirt that reaches his elbows and covers his shorts when he’s standing. When he sits, bare skin brushing along Junmyeon’s side, Junmyeon looks away.

“Start with the scales?” Jongdae suggests, and Junmyeon ghost a finger over the keys.

He’s been here a few times already. This is his fourth or fifth lesson (Junmyeon can’t really remember), but it’s been enough time that he can see the approval or disapproval in Jongdae. So when Jongdae asks him to repeat a passage for the third time, Junmyeon knows that he’s annoyed. His tone is abnormally sharp, and there’s a furrow between his eyebrows.

“It’s not like that.” Jongdae plays it once to demonstrate, then again, deliberately slower. “Don’t pause too long when you’re shifting. Take a little break at the tied over note if you need to, but play the next one on time.”

It’s simple, really, but when Junmyeon shifts to the next note (on time this time), his finger slips and he plays the wrong note.

“You have more time than you think,” Jongdae says, and he shows Junmyeon exactly how to move his hand. “Don’t forget the left hand,” he adds, and the words blur in a rush of noise in Junmyeon’s ears.

They finally manage to pass the section, when Junmyeon plays it accurately, although Jongdae marks the part on his music. But they get stuck just a few lines afterwards and there’s little patience in the way Jongdae sets his mug down on the table.

“Have you practiced this part?” Jongdae asks, his tone suggesting that he already knows the answer.

“Not really,” Junmyeon admits, fingertips nervously running over the fabric of his pants. He hasn’t had the time, and the short practices he’d managed to fit between his schedule evidently hadn’t been enough.

“You need to practice,” Jongdae says. “If you don’t practice for a day, you’ll hear the all of your mistakes. If you don’t practice for two days, your neighbors will hear them. After three days, the whole city will hear them.” It’s harsher than Junmyeon expected, but it does make him respect Jongdae a little more because that kind of passion for music doesn’t come from nowhere.

Jongdae sighs, the puff of air unusually loud in the otherwise quiet room. “Let’s just run through this piece, and I’ll show you the parts you need to work on.”

It stings more than it should, which surprises Junmyeon, but he complies, playing through the piece. Jongdae makes a few marks from time to time, and when he finishes, Jongdae flips back to the beginning and explains his mistakes, playing through the sections to demonstrate. Some of the parts, through explanation and demonstration, are much clearer to Junmyeon, but the ease in playing through all of the notes is something that can only be gained through practice.

“That was better,” Jongdae says as he stands, carrying the now empty mug with him into the kitchen. “Just remember to practice, and listen to a few recordings if you’re confused. And use a metronome,” he adds, voice louder now as he drifts back into the room. “Especially that part in the middle,” he says, pointing to a bracketed section on the page.

“Okay, thanks.” Junmyeon stands as well, closing the lid of the piano and picking up his sheets of music. It’s still raining outside, and he shudders inwardly as he thinks about running through the rain. He’d forgotten to bring an umbrella, and there’s quite a bit of unsheltered paths from Jongdae’s apartment to the bus stop. He glances at the clock, and he’s surprised that there are still ten minutes until the time that his lesson is supposed to end. It had felt longer than that, and he looks over at Jongdae.

Jongdae hands a glass of water to Junmyeon, and he’s holding his own glass in his other hand. “Sit down,” he says, leading Junmyeon to the small dining room table. “Excuse the mess.” He moves a stack of books out of the way, making enough room so that they can both put down their cups of water.

Junmyeon takes a sip of water and looks past Jongdae to the windows. They’re covered with blinds, but there are a few cracks through which he can see the darkness and rain outside.

“I’m sorry,” Jongdae speaks up, bringing Junmyeon’s attention back to him. “Today just hasn’t been a great day, so I won’t charge you for today’s lesson.”

“No, here.” Junmyeon passes Jongdae a few bills, which are a bit warm from staying in his pocket. “You taught me a lot today. It’s my fault for not practicing.”

Jongdae smiles, thanking him with a nod of his head as he pockets the bills. His teeth are white, glowing under the dim yellow light emitted from the single light bulb overhead. “You’re a good student. Are you planning on pursuing music in the future?”

Junmyeon runs a finger up the side of the glass cup. “I don’t think so. I’m thinking of doing something science related,” he divulges, and he catches Jongdae’s wince.

“That was one of my least favorite subjects in school,” Jongdae confesses. “You must be smart to go into that field.”

Junmyeon smiles politely and takes a sip of water for something to do.

There’s a long period of silence, occasionally broken when Jongdae’s phone buzzes with a new text. Jongdae fiddles with his phone, no doubt typing a reply, and he puts it down after a moment to look up at Junmyeon. “You can stay for a few minutes, until the rain’s gone. Don’t know when that’s going to happen, though,” he adds, pushing a blind up to look through the window.

Even if the rain is gone, there are still many puddles outside, and the trees will no doubt be dripping with water. But it’s better than rushing through the rain, and Junmyeon smiles to show his gratitude.

“Here, eat some cookies,” Jongdae says, getting up to go into the kitchen. He brings back a plate of cookies, and waves away Junmyeon’s protests about not wanting to eat his food. “It’s my roommates,” he tells Junmyeon, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. “Just eat them. They’re really good.”

Junmyeon takes one hesitantly, and Jongdae grins at him as he takes a bite. “Thanks,” he mumbles around his mouthful.

Jongdae nods as he bites into his own cookie. “Just don’t drop too many crumbs,” he says, reaching across the table to brush a crumb from the corner of Junmyeon’s mouth.

Junmyeon’s eyes widen as he looks up at Jongdae, caught off guard by the action, but Jongdae is already a safe distance away, eating his cookie and looking down at his phone calmly. Junmyeon shakes his head and mentally berates himself. He’s probably over thinking. They’re just student and teacher, even if there isn’t much of an age difference between them.

He sits there for fifteen minutes, looking around the room while Jongdae’s focused on his phone. He amuses himself by trying to guess which articles in the room belong to Jongdae and which belong to his roommate. But once it’s five minutes past the time he’s supposed to leave, he stands up.

“I should go,” he says, as Jongdae looks up at him. “It’s not raining that heavily anymore, and I need to get home. Thank you for having me,” he says, bowing.

Jongdae laughs and reaches out to ruffle Junmyeon’s hair. “I’ll see you next week. Do you want an umbrella?”

Junmyeon shakes his head. “No, I’ll be fine. Thank you,” he repeats as he tugs on his shoes.

“Just don’t get sick!” Jongdae calls, as Junmyeon walks away.

Junmyeon smiles as he runs through the rain. It’s barely raining now, but his sneakers are soaked through from the way he’s running into the puddles. But he’s thinking about his piano lesson—mostly Jongdae, though--and the gray skies don’t quite matter anymore.