Carry On SnowBaz

Christmas (7)

Simon

It's not like that I never heard someone playing violin before. And I already heard Baz playing – through the doors of his violin class but still. But I never really saw it. Baz face is totally relaxed and at the same time concentrated. He moves the bow over the strings in such a smooth way that it seems like the bow would lead his hand – not the other way around. I don't know the song he is playing, which is no surprise. I don't know anything about music. But I like it. The melody is beautiful. It kind of fits to Baz.

As he finished the piece he remains for a few more seconds in this position. I start applauding.

"Hell, Snow. Stop it," he mutters and removes the violin from his chin. His cheeks are blushed.

"This was amazing, Baz!" I say. "You...you should give concerts. You could be famous!"

"I'm just one of many guys with a violin in his hands, Snow. There's nothing remarkable about it." He sits down on the end of the bed, which is across of me. "But thanks...I guess."

"How long do you play?" I ask. "Do you think I could learn it, too? Oh, this would be cool. Then we could play together and get rich."

"I'm not sure if this is the right thing for you," Baz answers and chews on his bottom lip.

"Can I at least try it? Can you show me how to hold it?"

"If you really want to. But it's really not that easy –"

"Just let me try. Maybe I'm a naturally talented person."

"You?" he gets up, drumming with the bow against his knee. "A naturally talented person in violin? This would be news."

"Give me a chance," I complain and jump off the couch. "Perhaps you underestimate me. Wouldn't be the first time."

"I've said nothing," he raises his hands in innocence. "Try it. Maybe you're right."

He hands me his violin into my left hand and the bow into the right. Then he moves my arm into the right position and places the end of the violin between my collarbone and my chin. It feels way more uncomfortable as I thought it would.

"Relax your fingers," he says and shoves them one after one to their proper places. "And now take the bow." He tips against my elbow to bring it to the right height. I feel like a dummy which gets moved into its right pose.

"Can I try a tone?" I ask excitedly.

"Yeah. But be careful. You only need light pressure." Baz stops bending me into shape and takes a step back. He pulls out his phone and holds it up in front of me. "Sorry, but I have to take a photo. Simon Snow with a violin. Crowley, that's awesome."

"I don't know whether this is a compliment or not," I mumble frowning, while I try not to move.

"Of course, it is," he says grinning and slips his phone back into his pocket. "Come on. Let's play!"

I move the bow over the strings but it only makes a very skew sound. How could I think even for a second, I've got talent for it?

"Wait a moment," Baz says when he sees my disappointed face. He moves behind me and places his hand on my hand holding the bow. He wraps his other arm around my left one and embraces my hand, which holds the neck of the violin, with his. He shoves my fingers from the strings and places his there instead. His face is right behind my ear now.

"First, you have to untighten your grip around the bow." He loosens my fingers a bit. "Then, relax your neck and your shoulder. You don't need that much tension there." I feel his hand on the back of my neck when he tilts my head a bit. I must admit that I can hardly concentrate anymore...

"Now try again. Together." He lays his hand back on mine and pushes my hand forward. He leads the bow over the strings and this time it sounds way better. (But that has nothing to do with me, I'm sure.)

I (Baz) starts playing a slow song. It sounds nearly perfect – only a few times I get too much pressure in my hand and mess up the tone.

"We really should give concerts like this. That would be something new," Baz whispers while he continues the melody. I feel his breath on my ear. I mess up again.

"Yep. We definitely should," I mumble back. Baz moves my hand for a last slow tone, then he lets go of my hands.

"With a bit help, you're really a naturally talented person." He still stands right behind me.

I chuckle and turn around to him. "Maybe I do better with an instrument where I just have to press bottoms. Like a piano."

"Or a radio," Baz responds sneering and takes his violin out of my hands. "Never mind. You can't shine with everything."

"Well, I don't shine with anything, do I?" I ask frowning.

"That's not true," he answers softly. "You shine more than anyone I know." He leans forward to kiss me gently. I lay one hand on his chest and pull him on his shirt closer to me. (I'm sure I would really shine in this moment if I still would have my magic.)

"Can you play one more?" I whisper smiling as he presses his forehead against mine. "Can you play one more song for me?"

"I'm not sure if I can let go of you right now," he answers while his hand plays with my fingers. It tingles the whole way up to my shoulder.

"Please," I mumble and nudge my nose against his. "Just one more."

"Okay," he sighs. "I'll try."

Baz needs a little while before he manages to step back from me, then he clears his throat, strokes his hair out of his face and raises the violin back to his shoulder. He looks at me and I grin broadly. With a deep breath, he closes his eyes and starts playing. It's a new song. I cuddle up on the bed and listen to him. It's so beautiful. And with the melody in my ears and a smile on my lips, I fall asleep.