Never Finished Fic: Three Notes (Mike/Kevin, FRC, 200 words)
One of my bingo squares is psychic bond. I wrote the very beginning (with other names) in answer to a writing prompt I no longer remember from my writing group, but never finished it. This is an AU where Mike and Bill work at a music store. I don't think I ever figured out what Kevin does.
It wasn't a song yet. It was barely even three notes strung together.
Mike had been hearing it in his head for a week.
"Have you tried playing it?" Bill asked when Mike complained about it interrupting his sleep.
Mike snorted and kept restocking the racks of guitar strings. "Of course I've tried playing it. I've played it acoustic and electric. I even played it on the piano. It still doesn't make any sense."
"I don't know." The bell above the store rang, and Bill headed in that direction. "Maybe you just need to listen to something else."
"I've done that too," Mike muttered. He pushed a package of strings onto the rack so hard the ones on either side threatened to go spilling across the counter.
There it was again, three notes playing themselves out over and over again like a demented bassline under the melody of Bill helping a customer.
"We do have a selection of one-of-a-kind acoustics." Bill's voice got louder as he brought the customer toward the back of the store where Mike was. "You might like this one." Bill put a guitar in the customer's hands.
The first three notes he played synced perfectly with the ones in Mike's head.
It wasn't a song yet. It was barely even three notes strung together.
Mike had been hearing it in his head for a week.
"Have you tried playing it?" Bill asked when Mike complained about it interrupting his sleep.
Mike snorted and kept restocking the racks of guitar strings. "Of course I've tried playing it. I've played it acoustic and electric. I even played it on the piano. It still doesn't make any sense."
"I don't know." The bell above the store rang, and Bill headed in that direction. "Maybe you just need to listen to something else."
"I've done that too," Mike muttered. He pushed a package of strings onto the rack so hard the ones on either side threatened to go spilling across the counter.
There it was again, three notes playing themselves out over and over again like a demented bassline under the melody of Bill helping a customer.
"We do have a selection of one-of-a-kind acoustics." Bill's voice got louder as he brought the customer toward the back of the store where Mike was. "You might like this one." Bill put a guitar in the customer's hands.
The first three notes he played synced perfectly with the ones in Mike's head.