*He follows without a word, and stands behind him as he turns on the overhead light. Highly aware how close he's standing to him beneath the dingy light, he can't help grinning to himself, wondering what would happen if he just slid his fingers into the waist band of Herman's slacks where the shirt rumples up just a little at the curve of his spine. But, he stops himself and covers his leer by coughing lightly into his fist.*

Yea, I can read music. Dabble a little in writing too. I'm definitely no Mozart though. But, I can't wait to show you what I can do.

*He clears his throat, studies the costumes and then lets his gaze fall over the haphazard pile of graying handled cases. Moving around Herman, he kneels before the piles and searches through the larger ones. To his surprise, after flipping open the third one, he finds a tarnished trumpet.*

Hell, yes. I found it.

*he murmurs to himself, running his fingers over the valves. The bell is slightly dented and the mouthpiece looks like it's seen better days, but he picks it out of the red velvet lining anyway. The scent of stale saliva hits his nose and he chuckles and glances over his shoulder at Herman*

Smells just like my old one.

*He works the three keys up and down. They move stiffly at first and then more easily as he depresses them, making that familiar muted clacking sound. The spit valve is stuck closed, but he's sure it'll open with a little oil.*

*Picking up the mouthpiece with his other hand, he licks his lips and blows lightly into the small hole there. It vibrates slightly in his hand and he closes his palm about it. He holds it for a moment, and then feeling self-conscious with someone standing behind him, he replaces the instrument and closes the lid of the case.*

That one'll do.

*He straightens and gives Herman a slow pleased smile. He then turns to investigate the costumes again, intrigued by the sequins and feathered boas.*