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Ivan slowly walked into his family's house, exhaling deeply. He took off his shoes, and then his coat and hung it on the coat rack standing in the hallway. He was home early - very early, as nobody else seemed to be there yet.
Well, almost nobody.
‘...Scattering sparks of thought energy deliver me and carry me away…’ a familiar, sweet voice could be heard from the inside of the house, accompanied by soft tones of a piano.
Pavel. Pasha, Ivan’s older brother. It was him who was playing the piano, of course it was him. Ivan slowly crept into the living room, where the piano was situated, without a single word. It seemed like Pavel was too immersed in music to even notice there was someone listening to him, therefore the younger one remained silent. Ivan was always curious to see his older brother play, as he was incredibly skilled at it. His swift, slender fingers moved around the keyboard with ease, Pasha seemed to know the notes for this song by heart. He remembered when they were younger, he used to play for him all the time. Dmitri and Alexei listened with him as well, Mitya praising Pasha for learning a lot relatively quickly and Alyosha giggling, enjoying the music.
‘...See how the brain plays around, and you fall inside a hole you couldn’t see…’ As his favourite part of the song came on, Ivan couldn’t help but sing along with his brother, his deep voice harmonising perfectly with Pasha’s high voice.
The older man immediately stopped playing as he heard he had company. Pasha has always been a bit anxious about playing in front of other people, so no wonder he reacted this way. He turned around just to see Ivan staring at him with admiration, a smile appearing on his pale face.
‘Vanya! What a surprise, you scared me!’ he exclaimed, looking up to face his brother. ‘You’re home very early, what for?’
‘Ah, there wasn’t much to do at the office, so I managed to get the rest of the day off,’ Vanya sat on a nearby chair, still gazing at Pasha carefully. ‘You truly have a wonderful voice; I wish you could sing to me more, like you used to.’
Pavel jumped slightly hearing those words, his face got so red he decided to cover it with his hand.
‘I’m not that good, Vanya,’ he whispered, turning away from the piano. ‘Say, are you hungry? What did you eat today, if you ate at all? I can make you some food, if you want to.’ he offered, getting up from his seat.
Ah, Pasha. He always worried about his brothers’ nutrition, as he was, in fact, the only one of them who had healthy eating habits, while the other ones constantly forgot or simply didn't want to eat.
‘No need to worry, I had lunch just two hours ago,’ he said in an attempt to calm his older brother. ‘But if you really want to make me feel better in any way, consider sitting down and finishing playing that song. Or playing another one, if you may.’ he smirked.
Pasha settled himself back on his original spot, now a little less flushed, though still a little nervous. For some reason, Ivan’s presence made him feel somewhat uneasy, as he viewed him as an authority figure in a way. He already was in awe of how well-spoken he was, he could listen to him proclaim his speeches and poems for hours; Ivan was incredibly talented in that field. Vanya, on the other hand, was very thrilled with his brother’s musical talent; he had no idea why he was so nervous to perform in front of him, as he liked to do it, and, in fact, did it with some sort of pride when Pavel was younger. They both admired each other, amazed by the other's skills.
Pasha took a deep breath and stretched his fingers. Quickly, he began playing one of his favourite songs - “BlackBoxWarrior” by Will Wood. It indeed was breathtaking to watch Pavel play the piano so rapidly yet so precisely. He didn’t miss a single note, he didn’t make a mistake once. He truly was a wonderful piano player.
His singing was on-point, too. How he managed to sing flawlessly while playing the piano at ungodly speed at the same time - Ivan had no idea, the amount of time he must’ve spent on learning it all made him admire his brother even more.
‘For what, for what? For what it’s worth? If it was going to kill you boy, it would have by now,’ the passion with which Pasha sang the chorus was astounding, Ivan knew he truly did enjoy himself.
Ivan's favourite part was definitely the piano solo right after the second chorus. Surprisingly enough, halfway through Pasha switched to playing "Hand Me My Shovel, I'm Going In!". The smoothness with which the switch happened was astonishing, someone less familiar with Will Wood's works would most likely not recognise these two are separate songs, that's how unnoticeable it was.
‘Bottle, well or barrel? All are empty, dug or drank or poured it out. When too much is not enough, there’s plenty more, where that came from around...’ sang Ivan mindlessly, once again harmonising with Pavel. Vanya absolutely loved singing with his brother, and while yes, they indeed had a band together, Dmitri was usually the one to do the vocals.
After the finished performance, the younger one couldn’t help but clap, Pasha’s music truly was admirable and breathtaking.
‘That was brilliant!’ he said, glancing upon the older one’s face. ‘The transition was splendid, did you come up with it yourself?’
‘Sort of, it was actually Ilyusha who pointed out these songs could be merged at this exact moment, but I was the one to make this idea happen.’ said Pavel, some sort of pride beaming through his voice. Whenever he talked about things he was passionate about Ivan listened to him patiently, with admiration. It was nice to see he was enjoying himself.
All of a sudden, the older one got up from the piano once again.
‘Say,’ he stretched his hand out to Ivan with a smug smile painted on his face. ‘Would you care for a dance?’
Ivan laughed lightly, yet accepted his brother’s offer. He put his hand on his shoulder, thus allowing Pavel to lead the dance. Of course, dancing with him was mostly about avoiding him stomping on your feet and you trying to do the same in revenge. It started as a joke when Pasha first started teaching Vanya how to dance waltz, he “accidentally” stepped on his feet to encourage him to move his legs faster, though what he didn’t predict is that Ivan would attack him back. Now they mostly did it as a silly way to annoy each other, but nevertheless they both enjoyed dancing with each other, it gave them some sort of closeness to the other one.
Pasha rested his head against Vanya’s shoulder, he was half a head shorter than his brother. Vanya was overall the tallest one of the brothers and he liked to make fun of all of them because of that, he laughed at Mitya the most as there was the biggest height difference between them. Ivan and Pavel had overall agreed to use Dmitri as their armrest, which he got really upset about sometimes.
‘You’ve really improved since we last danced with each other!’ Pasha noticed. ‘Your movements are way smoother now.’
Ivan stepped on his foot.
‘Thank you! I practiced a lot with Tanya, she’s a better dancer than you are.’
This time, Pavel stepped on his foot.
‘That’s awesome! I hope you didn’t hurt her with your poor dancing abilities.’
The brothers looked at each other. Pasha started giggling uncontrollably, just like a little boy. Vanya couldn’t help but join him, soon they both started laughing so hard they couldn’t even continue the dance.
Pasha gently wrapped his arms around his younger brother’s chest and embraced him tightly. Vanya, although a bit surprised, hugged him back. They swayed slightly, enjoying each other's presence.
This moment of affection somewhat reminded Pavel of the times when they both were children, about seven years old or younger. They did something similar; long tight hugs that allowed them to be close to each other. They actually used to be quite rare, yet that's why they were highly appreciated by both of them. Until they were eight or so, they used to live with their father, Fyodor, who, well, wasn't very fond of Pavel as he essentially was a child born out of wedlock. The only reason why they even got to grow up together is that Sofya, Fyodor’s wife back at the time, insisted on letting Pavel and his mother, Lizaveta, live with them. Even despite Sofya's supervision, Fyodor of course got out of his way to let Pasha know he despised him and saw him as less than Ivan could ever be. He truly was one hell of a father, though it’s not like the word “father” even applies to him.
Even though Pasha and Vanya weren’t really allowed to spend time with each other back at the time, they still somehow found ways to play together, which usually happened when Fyodor was absent or busy drinking himself unconscious. During the spring or summer, they wandered around their garden, admiring the beauty of flowers growing there or watching birds, Ivan sometimes sketching things in a wee notebook of his.
He had a very vivid memory of a warm late spring afternoon, they both were sitting under a tree, right next to a batch of gardenia shrubs. Vanya was carefully drawing a bird sitting on a rock nearby, sincerely hoping it wouldn't fly away. Despite never taking drawing lessons, he was, in fact, quite good at drawing birds, as good as a seven year old can be, anyway. Pasha was humming a melody he just made up, looking around the garden. The whole setup was, of course, Sofya’s idea and hard work, as Fyodor literally couldn’t care less about “a bunch of unnecessary weeds in that goddamned backyard of ours”, as he often referred to this place as.
‘Here,’ Ivan looked up from his drawing to notice Pavel smiling at him, a delicate gardenia flower in his right hand. ‘It's for you.’ He gave Vanya the blossom, who gently placed it in the front pocket of his shirt.
‘I read a book about flower symbolism lately,’ the older boy whispered, carefully leaning on his brother's shoulder. ‘Did you know gardenias mean gentleness and trust? They look beautiful, too.’
Pasha felt the younger boy's arm wrapping around him.
‘Yes, they are. White is such a pretty colour, don't you think? It's my favourite.’
White. Pasha kept in mind every little detail about Vanya's likings and preferences. He knew what his favourite food was, he knew the order of the books on his bookshelf, he even remembered all the names of plants he owned, that's how much he admired him. He wasn't sure if Vanya was even aware of it, he didn't want to come off as creepy or anything of that sort.
‘I have a gift for you.’ stated Ivan all of a sudden, breaking the embrace.
He slowly pulled out a gardenia flower out of the pocket of his shirt, almost identical to the one he gave him years ago, as if he had kept it there this whole time.
‘Gardenia flower. It's a symbol of gentleness and trust, you were the one to tell me this, remember?’ He laughed slightly, watching Pasha's surprised expression as he carefully placed the blossom in his hands.
Pavel looked up to face his brother. His face was covered with a blush, Vanya refused to look him in the eye, instead he was examining the tips of his shoes.
‘That book, the one you read about flower symbolism back then, it got me into botany,’ his brother smiled yet again, finally lifting his gaze. Pasha could swear he even saw him lipsync a "thank you".
‘Speaking of botany,’ he continued. ‘I have to water my plants, after all someone has to do it. See you later, Pasha!’
And he exited the living room, waving him goodbye.
The older man looked at the flower in his palm and without hesitation he put it on the piano. Oh, how dearly he loved his little brother!