Myki (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
notbantamweight) wrote2011-06-20 01:01 am
notbantamweight) wrote2011-06-20 01:01 am
Entry tags:
- !fic,
- aradia,
- au,
- dave (hs),
- dialogue is for the weak!!!,
- equius,
- fanfic for an au of a webcomic,
- fuck you lj let me code my damn post,
- gamzee,
- homestuck,
- jack noir,
- john (hs),
- kanaya,
- karkat,
- marchingstuck,
- music inspired fic,
- nepeta,
- never any appropriate icons for this,
- quality writing,
- rich text editor hates my guts,
- terezi,
- vriska,
- why am i allowed to do this,
- why do i keep writing at midnight
FIC: it's summertime, but the living ain't easy
Please listen to this (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a9XeOrZ-W3s) whilst reading. It should make more sense then.
It was one of those stupid hot afternoons where absolutely nothing was going to plan, and John Egbert was sticky and tired, and just plain fed up with what was happening in practise, and when he and Rose finally called a break, and everyone rushed to the shade of the stands to gingerly rub on more suncream and drink gallons and gallons of vaguely suspicious lukewarm liquids, he snuck off.
Past the janitor’s chambers, past Mr. Noir’s office, and the shower/toilet block, and down into the cool sanctity of the music practise rooms. He looked behind himself once, halfway unsure as to whether or not those were someone else’s footsteps that he heard behind him, but shrugged, opened the door, and slipped inside.
Everyone’s bags and instrument cases were still scattered over the floor from when they’d all piled in here earlier in the afternoon, when they were half-way excited for practice, because anything had to be better than sitting in humid classrooms, listening to the most boring lectures from the most droning teachers.
Carefully, he wound his way around the minefield of left-over sandwiches and precariously tilted bottles of Faygo (even though Mr. Noir had told them to stop eating in the music rooms, no one listened), and over to the much-abused, yet still faithful grand piano. Karkat always stood on top of it during lunchtimes to yell at everyone, and had subsequently forced off/had food thrown at him/had instrument cases thrown at him, and the scuffed and dented lid had borne witness to all of those events.
He smoothed a familial hand over it, before gently lifting up the lid, and sliding the smallest support into place. He was gentle with the grand piano, because it was old, and delicate, but if treated with respect, it was still capable of producing incredible music.
He carefully cleared the seat of piles of sheet music, and sat down, adjusting himself to be the right distance away from the keys, fingers brushing lightly over each one, checking to see if Gamzee had spilt something between the keys again. Whilst the older troll was a musical savant, he could also be really quite messy at times, especially when allowed access to food while playing.
Happily, this wasn’t the case, and John set his fingers to the keys, and slowly began to play, not following any sheet music, just improvising like he did with jazz band occasionally, and before he knew it, the music had picked up up, and was sweeping him away on rippling tides of arpeggios and chord progressions.
Dave, of course, had spotted John slinking away between the seats, and after raising one pale blond eyebrow, had got up to follow him. Karkat muttered something unpleasant about Dave’s heritage as the human boy stepped over him, and Dave merely uttered a remark that contained John’s name, and the short troll practically leapt up after him.
Terezi, who had been following the exchange with mild interest, decided it would be interesting to follow, and Vriska of course was pinged by anything relating to her moirail, and soon half the damn band was following John down into the bowels of the school. They’d all stopped dead when he half-turned - no one had even breathed when he’d looked behind himself.
When he finally entered the room, they crept along like the most incongruous and conspicuous ninjas ever, crowding around the door just as John began to play his first notes. Karkat’s jaw hit the floor, and Gamzee mumbled something like ‘mIrAcLeS’, and they couldn’t tear their eyes away from John as he bent and swayed over the piano, playing it like he was clutching to some sort of lifeline, cascading and crashing and heartbreakingly melodious. He didn’t even have his eyes open, just playing on instinct.
And just when they thought it was over, it was like some kind of dam spilled over, and notes rose from that battered old piano and captivated them all over again, curling around them, cradling them, embracing them, and gogdamnit, that was really when Karkat fell fast and hard for John.
If he’d been capable of moving or speaking, he would have walked over there and dropped to his knees and begged John not to leave him ever, or something stupid and human like that, but as it was, he sighed, and Equius gave him a strange 100k through his cracked sunglasses, and how were those even in one piece still, and damnit, John had finished playing when he was being distracted by that idiot blue blood.
Silence slowly filled the room again, as John’s fingers stilled on the keys after those strangely poignant last notes, and he sighed, deep and tired, leaning forward, resting his flushed forehead on the piano. There was a sudden terrible awareness amongst the watchers that they probably shouldn’t have been here, that this was a private thing, but they were all wedged in the wide open doorway now, and extricating themselves from each other’s tangled limbs was not going to be and easy task.
Slowly and carefully, Nepeta tried to lower herself from her position high on Equius’ shoulders, but instead slipped on his sweat and fell into Aradia and Rose and Kanaya, and there were definite yelps of pain there, and then
John looked up and over at them oh god
and he looked oh so very tired and careworn
and he saw them all tangled up in a pile in the door way, with Karkat slowly going some odd and unnatural shade due to oxygen deprivation due to him being squished by absolutely everyone ever
and
he
laughed
and suddenly everything was alright again, the universe flipped itself back around the right way, and Mr. Noir was yelling at them to get the hell back to practise or he’d keep them here ‘til nightfall and Dave was snarking back about something ridiculous, and everyone went back to the field, until there was just John sitting at the battered old grand piano, and Karkat wheezing for air on his back in the doorway.
And everything was how it should be.
Past the janitor’s chambers, past Mr. Noir’s office, and the shower/toilet block, and down into the cool sanctity of the music practise rooms. He looked behind himself once, halfway unsure as to whether or not those were someone else’s footsteps that he heard behind him, but shrugged, opened the door, and slipped inside.
Everyone’s bags and instrument cases were still scattered over the floor from when they’d all piled in here earlier in the afternoon, when they were half-way excited for practice, because anything had to be better than sitting in humid classrooms, listening to the most boring lectures from the most droning teachers.
Carefully, he wound his way around the minefield of left-over sandwiches and precariously tilted bottles of Faygo (even though Mr. Noir had told them to stop eating in the music rooms, no one listened), and over to the much-abused, yet still faithful grand piano. Karkat always stood on top of it during lunchtimes to yell at everyone, and had subsequently forced off/had food thrown at him/had instrument cases thrown at him, and the scuffed and dented lid had borne witness to all of those events.
He smoothed a familial hand over it, before gently lifting up the lid, and sliding the smallest support into place. He was gentle with the grand piano, because it was old, and delicate, but if treated with respect, it was still capable of producing incredible music.
He carefully cleared the seat of piles of sheet music, and sat down, adjusting himself to be the right distance away from the keys, fingers brushing lightly over each one, checking to see if Gamzee had spilt something between the keys again. Whilst the older troll was a musical savant, he could also be really quite messy at times, especially when allowed access to food while playing.
Happily, this wasn’t the case, and John set his fingers to the keys, and slowly began to play, not following any sheet music, just improvising like he did with jazz band occasionally, and before he knew it, the music had picked up up, and was sweeping him away on rippling tides of arpeggios and chord progressions.
Dave, of course, had spotted John slinking away between the seats, and after raising one pale blond eyebrow, had got up to follow him. Karkat muttered something unpleasant about Dave’s heritage as the human boy stepped over him, and Dave merely uttered a remark that contained John’s name, and the short troll practically leapt up after him.
Terezi, who had been following the exchange with mild interest, decided it would be interesting to follow, and Vriska of course was pinged by anything relating to her moirail, and soon half the damn band was following John down into the bowels of the school. They’d all stopped dead when he half-turned - no one had even breathed when he’d looked behind himself.
When he finally entered the room, they crept along like the most incongruous and conspicuous ninjas ever, crowding around the door just as John began to play his first notes. Karkat’s jaw hit the floor, and Gamzee mumbled something like ‘mIrAcLeS’, and they couldn’t tear their eyes away from John as he bent and swayed over the piano, playing it like he was clutching to some sort of lifeline, cascading and crashing and heartbreakingly melodious. He didn’t even have his eyes open, just playing on instinct.
And just when they thought it was over, it was like some kind of dam spilled over, and notes rose from that battered old piano and captivated them all over again, curling around them, cradling them, embracing them, and gogdamnit, that was really when Karkat fell fast and hard for John.
If he’d been capable of moving or speaking, he would have walked over there and dropped to his knees and begged John not to leave him ever, or something stupid and human like that, but as it was, he sighed, and Equius gave him a strange 100k through his cracked sunglasses, and how were those even in one piece still, and damnit, John had finished playing when he was being distracted by that idiot blue blood.
Silence slowly filled the room again, as John’s fingers stilled on the keys after those strangely poignant last notes, and he sighed, deep and tired, leaning forward, resting his flushed forehead on the piano. There was a sudden terrible awareness amongst the watchers that they probably shouldn’t have been here, that this was a private thing, but they were all wedged in the wide open doorway now, and extricating themselves from each other’s tangled limbs was not going to be and easy task.
Slowly and carefully, Nepeta tried to lower herself from her position high on Equius’ shoulders, but instead slipped on his sweat and fell into Aradia and Rose and Kanaya, and there were definite yelps of pain there, and then
John looked up and over at them oh god
and he looked oh so very tired and careworn
and he saw them all tangled up in a pile in the door way, with Karkat slowly going some odd and unnatural shade due to oxygen deprivation due to him being squished by absolutely everyone ever
and
he
laughed
and suddenly everything was alright again, the universe flipped itself back around the right way, and Mr. Noir was yelling at them to get the hell back to practise or he’d keep them here ‘til nightfall and Dave was snarking back about something ridiculous, and everyone went back to the field, until there was just John sitting at the battered old grand piano, and Karkat wheezing for air on his back in the doorway.
And everything was how it should be.
~*~le fin~*~
Notes: Lame ending is lame. Just... okay I was reading all of the marchingstuck stuff all over again AND THEN I FOUND THE TUMBLR and I remembered that John could play the piano in this AU and this damn song came on my iTunes, and just imagine that it is John playing it, ok? shut up it's midnight I have no real excuses. Also, title comes from a mis-remembered line of Billie Holiday. Three guess as to the song.