Waiting for the Night [Dalan]

Chapter 23

They spent the afternoon working on the album, at least until Paris came back from school and ran to tell Alan about their school trip to the British Museum. Alan listened to his daughter, laughing at her stories until Mrs Cheung came up to fetch her for a bath and a teatime snack. The timing was just right, because the doorbell rang, heralding the arrival of Dave and Flood, who had both brought an army of snacks and beverages for everyone.

Martin accepted his own cup of tea from Dave, nodding his thanks. These days he was at least able to look Dave in the eye again, and he could sense Dave was desperate for the return of their friendship. Of course he still yearned for Dave: love didn't go away overnight, no matter how hard he'd tried. It still hurt when he watched Dave's smile soften whenever he looked at Alan, or the way Alan's face brightened when Dave spoke to him.

It was time for Martin to try and read Alan's mind.

When Dave was in the middle of sharing a funny story about a crazy customer at Knox's cafe, Martin got up on the pretext of heading to the bathroom. He deliberately brushed past Alan, who was distracted while listening to Dave's story. Martin was stunned when he touched Alan's shoulder, sensing the overwhelming feelings of fondness in Alan towards Dave. It wasn't quite full-blown love, not yet. But Alan was definitely on the way there.

I love the way he tells stories, Alan was thinking as he listened to Dave. He's such an interesting person.

Martin took his hand off Alan's shoulder, swallowing away his own pain. He had to set it aside, in order to accomplish his mission and make sure Alan found love again.

He was so close.

*****

Now that things had almost returned to normal between him and Dave (or rather, as normal as Martin could act around him) the gang was back to hanging out at Alan's house again. Martin spent many hours in the studio with the guitar, randomly playing bits and pieces he'd picked up from the various musicians he'd met over his lifetime. 

Sometimes he played Bach's Bourree, remembering how he'd helped Bach with it on the harpsichord back then and what the composer would think if he knew how Martin had adapted and modified it for the guitar. Other times he played something that Hendrix or Clapton had come up with. Alan always watched with an impressed look, smiling at Martin and encouraging him to play more.

But most of the time, Alan's attention was always on Dave. The two of them were inseparable now, always talking together in their own private little world and interrupted only by Paris or one of their group. Flood joked that Dave stayed over so often in the guest room that he should start paying Alan rent. They would all laugh at this, but Martin never missed the wistful yearning looks Dave would shoot Alan amidst the laughter. He was so painfully in love that Martin wondered if it was obvious to everyone else.

A quick survey - and a brief glance at their thoughts - confirmed Martin's suspicions. Flood, who was more introspective and observant, suspected something was going on between Dave and Alan. Johnny was happily oblivious, too focused on his business dealings. Knox definitely knew Dave was in love, but he thought Dave had no chance with Alan. And interestingly, Mrs Cheung was surprised because she had assumed Alan was straight, but she liked Dave too much to bother with any moralising about their sexuality. 

Paris loved Dave, of course, and Dave doted on her in turn. Martin knew Dave did so because he genuinely cared for her and Alan, and also because he missed his own son. Martin hoped that Dave would be able to see him someday again, even if it was only for a while.

"What are you thinking about, Mart?" Speaking of the devil, Dave plopped down beside Martin on one of the studio chairs, sliding a hot cup of tea in front of him. "C'mon mate, have a break and chat with me."

"Why? Is Alan otherwise occupied?" Martin had sort of meant it as a joke, so he was surprised at the deep blush that came over Dave's face. Again an unbidden pang of jealousy filled him with envy, making Martin shut his mouth and stare down at his guitar again.

Maybe he wasn't quite over Dave as he thought.