Work Text:
Dean got his guitar, preparing himself to sing in front of Parker. "What song are you going to be singing?" Parker asked, walking over to the grey couch to sit on. Dean adjusted the guitar strings, "My favorite song, 'Elevator Days'" Parker nodded, immediately recognizing the song title since Dean used to play it multiple times to the point he memorized some of the lyrics.
Dean cleared his throat, his heart beating faster than usual. His hands found the strings and began plucking them like it was second nature. A beautiful tune came out of the guitar and Dean opened his mouth to sing the lyrics he memorized. "Do you remember the sun on a bench and the kiss that you left me with?" Dean closed his eyes, focusing onto the beat of his guitar.
Parker listened carefully as if his voice was a magical siren luring him in to capture him in a trace. He watched every graceful movement—focusing on the way Dean was moving his fingers, "And the elevator days came, say my name, say my name," Dean sang, opening his eyes again and locking eyes onto Parker, who was watching him with passion and affection shining in his eyes.
"And you remember the time when we dealt with the lines, and flew out of the state," Parker closed his eyes as he remembered the time they had a miscommunication, leading them to have an argument and eventually Dean flew out to different states—Parker stayed in California while Dean moved to Colorado. They had a rocky start at the start of their relationship, but as time went on, they were able to find common ground and set up boundaries to better understand each other.
"Room 161, your hand on a gun, clothes left on the floor, sock left on the door," Parker remembered the cheap hotel they stayed in during The Unfuck America tour, the tension the hotel room held as they spent their first night together, and the activities they had: meeting people—an equal share of rude and nasty people and sweet and nice people—discussions, suggestions they gave to others, and intimate moments they shared.
Dean continued singing the rest of the song and now he was at the last lyric, "Was it enough, to try to take from me? Just take a backseat pass" Dean finished up his singing and opened his eyes—slightly wet due to singing his heart out. Parker had a smile on his face, proud that Dean was comfortable with singing and performing a song for him—making him feel special, butterflies fluttered in his stomach. Dean took off the strap and placed the guitar in his lap, smiling softly at Parker.
"That was amazing," Parker complimented, his eyes following Dean as he grabbed the neck of the guitar and stood up to sit next to Parker on the couch. "I'm glad you liked it, I was slightly nervous to be honest," Parker smiled, grabbing Dean's hand and rubbing slow, soft circles, "You did great, don't worry,"