The Piano

As Ludwig strolled the massive, highly decorated halls of his friend‘s house, he was almost getting sick of hearing that damned piano. He felt the slippery velvet runner beneath his feet and slowly stripped off his gloves and his jacket, it was so damned hot in here! He continued to walk through the house and suddenly, the music became clearer, sharper. He knew he was close to that damned room with that horrible instrument, the shrill banging grating on his brain.

I wish that it would just stop! He thought. That stupid Austrian was always, only playing the piano. Ludwig wondered if he was even capable of anything else. Gradually, the music came to a slow halt, the last notes dying off around the German, being absorbed into that plush carpet, and those ornate walls. All of a sudden, he realized how utterly alone he was. There was no one else in the whole house. He walked to a door that was slightly ajar and backed up a few steps to peer in secretively.

Glancing into the room, Ludwig noticed the abandoned piano bench, with a dark blue coat almost strategically draped over it. He saw black boots perfectly arranged on the floor as well. As his brain was processing all of this, his eyes caught up to reality and scanned the room intently for the owner of these beautiful pieces of clothing. Traveling higher, his eyes caught sight of a pair of dark blue pants tossed carelessly across those pure ivory keys. Letting his mind wander, he caught sight of the shiny top of the piano, afternoon light glinting off of the surface, slightly obstructed by something.

If he squinted hard, it resembled a body. Someone was lying on top of the piano. Well, whoever it was, at least they had stopped playing the damned thing. His eyes began to focus slowly, blinded slightly from the light off of the piano. He saw a mass of pale skin, offset by the crisp white of a frilled shirt. Strong legs led up to a surprisingly taught stomach and smooth chest, angular features and a tangle of auburn hair. As the face was turned towards him, he stifled a moan. There was a small mole close to the mouth. This meant that the person lying sprawled out on top of the piano, enticing and vulnerable, the person who was playing the piano a while ago, the person whose fingers were tightly wrapped around his cock in a trembling fist, pleasuring himself for Ludwig’s eyes alone was none other than……Roderick!

Oh Gott in Himmel!! Ludwig could hardly believe what he was seeing. He couldn’t take his eyes off of that strong hand, sliding up and down that perfect shaft. He could feel his pants grow tight very quickly, absentmindedly stroking himself through the fabric, wanting some kind of friction. He slid further against the safety of the door and dared to slide his hand into his pants, gripping himself hard in his fist. Peering around the door again, he began panting hard, hearing a loud mewling spill from those pale pink lips. He watched as Roderick’s slim hips rose off of the piano’s shiny surface, an outline left from his sweat on the black polished wood.

Ludwig could feel his hand moving faster along his weeping cock, watching Roderick completely undone like this. As he saw that pale chest heave up and down quicker, Ludwig knew that his friend was dangerously close to finishing. In a sick twisted way, he secretly hoped that it was himself that Roderick was fantasizing about behind those beautiful closed eyes. Feeling himself close to the edge as well, he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the riveting and arousing scene in front of him. As Roderick pushed his hips up, fucking himself with his hand, his eyes snapped open and instantly lowered to slits of utter pleasure as his hot seed splattered across his chest, over his clenched fist. His mouth fell open with a satisfied moan.

“Ahhh ahhhh! Ludwig! Oh God! AHH!!” The Austrian collapsed onto the piano, hand still clenched around his softening member. The other was resting on the glossy wood by his head, twisting a curl around his finger, spent and sleepy.

When Ludwig heard his name being cried out in such a state of utter ecstasy, he immediately lurched forward and spilled his seed over his hand with a shuddering, stifled cry, watching it spill over his hand onto the carpet. He immediately regretted ever having come over, panicking at what he would tell Roderick about how such a mess ended up on the floor.

He was so busy fretting over how he would quickly and casually handle things that he didn’t realize that there was a figure standing in the doorway. When he glanced up, he once again caught sight of Roderick, this time, standing in just his white ruffled shirt, and no more. His pale skin gleaming with a sheen of sweat, hair mussed and tangled, a light pink blush painted across his cheeks, eyes content and happy, a slightly shy smile playing on his lips.

As Ludwig straightened self-consciously, he blushed a deep red, embarrassed at having been found out. He didn’t like to snoop, but when he did, he hated ever getting caught. It was something he prided himself on. But, this time, he supposed he could make an exception, how could he not with Roderick looking like THAT?

“I…I’m sorry, I…” Ludwig stammered, dumbfounded.

“It is alright, Ludwig.” Roderick said quickly, “Italy will clean it up, hopefully. And I could see you too, you know.” He smiled mischievously.

“I….I never knew you felt that way…”

“Didn’t you? Always so busy fighting your wars and drinking so much. It’s no wonder.” Roderick smiled. Ludwig blushed and started to protest.

“Why don’t we have our own private concert, hmmm? I’ll play you a new piece I am working on. I know you don’t really like piano music, but maybe I’ll be able to convince you otherwise?” Roderick took the German by the hand and led him into the large music room, filled with couches, and of course, that damned piano. Closing the door behind them, Roderick sat down at the piano and sliding his jacket over and pushing his pants onto the floor he began a piece by Chopin.

Wrapping his arms around Roderick’s waist and nuzzling against his shoulder, Ludwig realized that he didn’t really mind Roderick playing the piano anymore. Because, every time he would hear that beautiful noise, a certain memory would always accompany it.