F…A flat…C…

Jihoon set a finger onto each of the keys and gently pushed them down. A weak chord groaned from the body of the upright piano. The boy’s eyes closed and his lips curled upwards.

So this is what it feels like to touch a piano.

Jihoon stood in front of the instrument with his right hand pressing the keys. He just barely lifted his fingers and then pressed down again, this time with a little more force. A louder chord rang through the small space of the practice room, though the quality of the notes sounded rather dull. Being a school instrument, the piano was a bit aged and probably needed some fine tuning. Despite that, Jihoon felt excitement bubbling inside of him. His heart raced at the thought of even touching the glorious instrument. He slid his hand over and positioned his fingers for a different chord. He brought his left hand up, too. He carefully lined up each finger to its respective position and, after a brief pause, pressed on the keys once more, producing a more grand sound with the addition of his left hand.

Jihoon felt his passion tugging at his heart. The smile that expressed genuine happiness turned to one of ridicule and incredulity aimed toward himself. He felt his desire to pursue music clawing at his heart again, begging to be acted upon. Of course there was no way he could be that selfish. He had family to take care of. Regardless of how much he yearned to chase after his dreams, he had to put aside his desires for something more important, or rather, some one more important.

The smile had disappeared, and Jihoon dropped his hands. He left his right index finger on middle C and pressed down on it.

And then again.

And again.

This time, not in awe of the piano but lost in thought, wanting something mindless to do with his hands as he immersed himself in his anguish.

The door swung open and Seungcheol came in carrying a chair, oblivious of the other’s mood.

“Having fun?”

Jihoon let his arm go limp and swing back to his side in silence.

Seungcheol placed the chair at the corner of the room and plopped down onto the piano bench.

“You should keep your fingers curved when you press on the keys to get a better tone out of the piano. Like this.”

The boy demonstrated using the same chord that Jihoon had previously played. A simple, yet beautiful chord rang, with characteristics of gentleness and forcefulness present simultaneously. Jihoon was at awe of how different the same simple chord sounded between the two of them. He hovered his hands over the keys again, but before he could attempt the chord again, Seungcheol burst out.

“No, no, no. Don’t be standing while you play or else your wrist bends at an awkward angle. If you sit down, your arms will be in a better position.”

He reached for Jihoon’s waist and pulled him down onto the piano bench, startling the other. The sudden intimate contact caused Jihoon to tense up, but Seungcheol didn’t seem to take notice. Seungcheol then removed his hands from Jihoon’s waist and gently touched the other’s wrist to point out the places he wanted the other to adjust. He felt Jihoon submit to his touch and allow the pianist to guide him.

“Just…like…that,” he whispered as he gradually released his hold on the other. He breathed out and smiled.

Jihoon didn’t expect to see the other wear such a bright expression, especially not for something as insignificant as his now perfect posture. That and the waist-grabbing caught him off-guard, leaving him slightly flustered and at a loss for words. He stared skeptically at Seungcheol.

And Seungcheol stared right back. The moment lasted longer than how long any normal eye-contact between friends should have, much less classmates who were more or less familiar with each other. In the moment, Jihoon’s thoughts were overtaken by the thought of how strangely captivating the other’s eyes were. At this close of a distance he was able to see how his onyx irises glistened under the dim lights in the room, and how his eyes naturally drooped in an alluring manner, and how his thick eyelashes lined his eyes in a heavy black line. He noticed the way that Seungcheol seemed to stare past him: focused on him, and yet lost in his own thoughts, just as Jihoon was lost in his. He watched Seungcheol returned to the present moment, and soon afterwards he saw the boy’s eyes widened before he began to blink excessively. At that point, Jihoon also blinked a few times, remembering where he was. Seungcheol shook his head quickly and directed his focus at Jihoon’s hand instead.

“Are you gonna try it?”

“Try...it?”

“The chord. You can try playing it now.”

“O-oh.”

Oh, so that’s what he was waiting for.

“Wait, not yet. You lost your posture. Lift your wrist more so it’s straight.”

Seungcheol motioned to touch the underside of Jihoon’s wrist again. Jihoon corrected his posture in order to avoid the contact. Once Jihoon adjusted his position, Seungcheol dropped his hand.

“Remember to use the tips of your fingers.”

Jihoon nodded before concentrating on his hand. After a deep breath, he pressed into the keys once more as instructed. Immediately, he could feel the difference, as well as hear a much clearer sound ring out. The chord didn’t ring as clearly as it did when Seungcheol played it, but it was an improvement from the first time Jihoon tried. Jihoon looked up to find his partner scoffing in disbelief.

“What?”

“Seriously…does everything come easy to you?”

“What do you mean?”

“That chord. It resonated really well for someone who’s claimed to have never touched a piano.”

Jihoon let his arm fall back to his side.

“Don’t you think you’re exaggerating a bit?” he mumbled as he clasped his hands together in his lap.

“I wish,” Seungcheol laughed dryly.

A silence fell between the two, a reaction that had become common for them within their past few encounters.

“You said you were majoring in economics?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“Are you minoring in music?”

“No. Why?”

“Just wondering.” Seungcheol paused, thinking about whether to ask another question or not. “Um, can I ask you something?”

“What?”

“Why are you in music theory? Is it because…”

Seungcheol let his sentence drift off. He wasn’t quite sure how to word his question without sounding insensitive or nosy, but he also wasn’t exactly sure of what he was going to ask. He turned back towards the piano.

“Never mind. Let’s get started, shall we? That way you can get back to your brother in the hospital sooner.”

Seungcheol lined his fingers up to the keys. Jihoon stayed seated, straightening his back and fixing his posture. Moments later, Seungcheol started, setting the tempo at a moderate pace. His fingers the keys with grace and power. Jihoon almost missed his cue, too distracted by the mesmerizing movements of his partner’s hands, the way his partner’s wrist circled gracefully, and how he could visibly observe the momentum of power carrying from his torso to his arms to his wrists and then to his fingers. He took a short breath and began accompanying the piano.

It was a strange combination, a vocal accompaniment supporting a piano melody instead of the other way around. But it was strange in an enchanting way.  Two musical components that at first seemed to clash, but in reality danced to the steps of an elaborate tango, the lead switching off between the two parts.  Each step was carefully placed, as practiced separately by the two. Once they had reached the end of the first run through, the two of them sat in silence, taking in what they had just heard. They had both practiced alone plenty of times, but hearing the combined parts created an entirely different feeling than before. Seungcheol was the first to break the silence.

“That…sounded…really strange. But not in a bad way, I don’t think.”

“Yeah.”

Seungcheol looked over at his partner, whose eyes were closed.

“What do you think?”

Jihoon remained in his position, giving no indication of a response. Seungcheol watched as the boy’s chest rose and fell with every deep breath. His eyes gravitated towards Jihoon’s face again, and he suddenly thought of the first day he saw him. Jihoon’s skin remain the same fairness as from before. His face wasn’t outlined by golden sunlight, but it radiated with purity, nonetheless.

Seungcheol replayed the run-through of the song in his head again, noticing details that he skipped over when they ran through the music. Jihoon’s vocals weren’t perfect. There were plenty of places where he could use a bit more training. A few weaker spots. A couple notes slightly off pitch. But something about his voice drew Seungcheol in. A particular quality made Jihoon’s voice stand out, even amongst other great vocalists. And Seungcheol was absolutely certain that if he were to isolate that one quality, he would find the one thing missing in his own performance quality. He just couldn’t quite put a finger on what that quality was.

“Beautiful.”

Seungcheol snapped his head toward Jihoon when he heard his voice.

“Huh?”

Jihoon finally opened his eyes. He directed his sight toward the keys in front of him.

“That was beautiful.”

Seungcheol had forgotten that he asked a question. They had been sitting wordlessly for at least a few minutes, so he hadn’t expected an answer.

“What were you thinking about?”

Once again, Jihoon closed his eyes, and Seungcheol was prepared to wait another few minutes for a reply. This time, Jihoon opened his eyes again after a few seconds.

“Just that music is…so...” He let out a soft chuckle as he ran his fingers through his hair. “I don’t even have any words to describe it. There are so many words I know, and yet none of them could describe what music really is.”

Seungcheol watched the other occasionally burst in soft chuckles and was surprised to find himself smiling. Just the light airiness from the other made Seungcheol feel as if he were floating. The soft bell-like laugh echoed the walls of the practice room.

“You…really love music, don’t you?”

The chuckles ceased. Jihoon left the smile plastered on his face, but it emanated a feeling of sorrow, rather than joy.

“A little too much,” he replied.

“What does that even mean?”

“Nothing.”

Nothing?

Feeling Seungcheol’s gaze on him requesting further explanation, Jihoon cleared his throat and attempted to divert the other’s attention.

“I think it sounds pretty good, but we can definitely fix things up. This emphasis for this section came out a little weak, so why don’t we…”

As Jihoon continued to talk and mark their scores to scribble in changes, Seungcheol let Jihoon’s voice drone out, staring at the boy’s profile.

What does that mean? How do you love something too much?

“…and I think simplifying this part will make the song even more dynamic. What do you think?”

“Huh?”

Jihoon looked at his dazed partner and repeated his question. “What do you think?”

“Uh…yeah. I think so.”

After giving Seungcheol a look of skepticism, he continued.

“Then why don’t we try practicing these parts a few times before running it again?”

“Sure.”

To Jihoon’s surprise, Seungcheol ran through the adjusted sections almost effortlessly. Despite reading the new music for the first time, he didn’t show any signs of hesitation as he played the notes. Through the sight-reading, Jihoon was able to grasp the extent of his partner’s ability. He was certain that countless hours in a span over a significant number of years were put into practicing, performing, and perfecting. Despite the notes being precisely what he had written down, something just felt off about the way Seungcheol played, but he wasn’t quite sure how to describe it.

“What do you think of the adjustments?”

“For the most part it’s fine. But for this section, why don’t we do this, instead?”

Seungcheol lifted his pencil to write it down onto the music sheet, but thought better of it and demonstrated on the piano. Jihoon seemed to be someone who understood easier by listening than by reading.

“It’s similar, but by doing it this way, we can really emphasize the motif.”

Jihoon nodded slowly, taking in what he just heard and analyzing how it would sound with his part added in.

“Okay, let’s do that. Then do you want to practice the sections a bit more before running through it again?”

“Yeah.”

Before they were able to start, Jihoon’s phone went off. Jihoon immediately took his phone out of his pocket and answered the call without looking at the caller ID.

“Chan?”

“Jihoonie hyung…” the voice whispered.

Jihoon’s face turned grim.

“Seungkwan? What’s wrong?”

“Well…the thing is…”

Jihoon felt his heart throbbing heavily. He started to gather his things in a panic. He held the phone with his shoulder while he packed his bag and grabbed his jacket. Seungcheol started to panic internally, unsure of what was happening.

“Spill it, Seungkwan. What happened?” Jihoon asked urgently.

“We were wondering…if you could...perhaps get us some bingsoo…”

Jihoon froze in place with one arm in his jacket. He could hear Chan’s muffled cries in the back for Seungkwan to return his phone.

“Jihoonie hyung? Hello?”

A moment later, Jihoon collapsed onto the piano bench, releasing all of the tension he had built up in his body.

“Seungkwan, please don’t scare me like that.”

“Sorry…”

“Sure, I’ll get you bingsoo if you guys want it. I’m still practicing right now so it might be a while, okay?”

“Okay. Thank you hyung,” Seungkwan cooed sweetly before he hung up.

Jihoon put his belongings back down and swiveled himself to face the piano again.

“Is everything okay?” Seungcheol asked hesitantly.

“Yeah. I thought something happened to Chan but the kids just called because they wanted bingsoo.”

“Oh. That’s good then.”

“Anyways, sorry about that. Let’s practice a bit more for now. And then we can call it a day in an hour or so.”

“Yeah, that sounds good.”

Seungcheol stared at the piano keys in front of him as he thought. It felt like he was missing something when he watched how much Jihoon cared for his brother. The way he dropped everything the moment it looked like Chan was troubled. The way Jihoon put his brother above school responsibilities and other people. Was it normal for a boy to be this concerned with his brother? Watching Jihoon worry about his brother made him think to his own relationships with his parents.

Is this…what family is supposed to be like?

.......................................

“Seungkwan! Could you give me my phone back now?”

Chan put his hand out expectantly at Seungkwan, who had just ended his phone conversation with a satisfied grin on his face. Seungkwan complied.

“Why would you ask him for bingsoo? Isn’t it too cold for iced sweets?”

Seungkwan placed the phone in Chan’s outstretched hand. “Life Lesson Six: it’s never too cold for bingsoo.”

Hansol laughed silently as Chan sighed in defeat.

The three of them had returned to their hospital room once they finished lunch. Hansol and Chan sat on their respective beds and Seungkwan was leaning on Chan’s bed facing Hansol.

“Okay, but you’re the only one I know who actually eats bingsoo in the winter,” Chan said, shivering at the thought.

“And that’s why I’m the only one who knows how good it is during the winter,” Seungkwan proclaimed.

Hansol pursed his lips and looked up in deep thought. After a few seconds, he looked over at Chan and said, “I think bingsoo would taste good during winter.”

Seungkwan grinned. “I like you, kid. Let’s be friends.”

Seungkwan didn't think Hansol’s smile could get any bigger, but he was proven wrong as the boy practically glowed in delight.

“Friends,” the boy echoed softly.

Chan glanced at Hansol and reflected a smile back. He must have been lonely all this time , he thought.

“Yeah, friends,” Seungkwan repeated. “Once both you and Chan get discharged from the hospital, we can hang out and get bingsoo and stuff.”

Hansol’s expression visibly dimmed.

“I mean….unless you live far away from here. I guess we probably go to different schools if Chan and I haven’t seen you up until now. In that case, we can hang out during our school breaks, right?” Seungkwan asked innocently.

Chan noticed Hansol’s gaze wandering along the floor.

“That would be really nice,” Hansol responded, smiling again. “But I’m probably going to be at the hospital for a little longer.”

“Hm? Well that’s okay. If it’s only a little longer then Chan and I can wait for you.”

“Seungkwan,” Chan nudged his friend. Seungkwan looked over at Chan, oblivious to the situation.

“Ah, well, I’m waiting on a kidney donor,” Hansol explained. “I don’t know how long it will take, but people usually stay on the waiting list for years.”

Seungkwan rubbed the back of his neck. “Ah, sorry. I guess I didn’t think about that.”

Hansol shook his head. “It’s okay. I’m used to being at the hospital now. And I’m really happy that you’ll let me be your guys’ friend.”

Upon hearing this, Seungkwan straightened up and faced Hansol. “Alright, that’s it. We’re making a promise right now. Chan and I will visit you at the hospital every week until you’re discharged, and once that happens, we’ll throw a party at my house. Right, Chan?”

Hansol was taken aback by the declaration, but Chan smiled and nodded in agreement.

“Are you sure? I’ll probably be in the hospital for a really long time, and you guys will be busy with sch-,” Hansol rambled.

“Sh, sh,” Seungkwan hushed Hansol, waving his finger. “We’re friends now. Of course we should visit you as much we can! Besides, what else is there to look forward to every week if we didn’t show up? The lame hospital food?”

Hansol laughed lightly. He lowered his gaze toward the ground and whispered, “Thank you...Thank you, guys.”

Seungkwan walked over to Hansol’s side and swung his arm over the boy’s neck. “That’s what friends are for, right?”

Hansol looked at Seungkwan, and then at Chan, and then back at Seungkwan again. His lips curled into a warm smile.

“Yeah.”

__________________________________________________________________________________

A/N: Hello, all. Long time no see. I decided I wanted to finish this fic and have begun to write again. Unfortunately, it's been over 2 years and I no longer remember where this fic was going, so I'm trying to create a similar (and simpler) plot to finish the story. Thank you all for reading, and sorry for making you wait such a ridiculously long time. Honestly speaking though, I probably won't finish for a while, as my creative juices need replenishing, but I will try to finish this (...one day).