Fisher hadn't played music for anyone in a very long time. In fact until that audition, he hadn't sung for anyone in almost a decade. And since he and James broke up, he hadn't curled up with anyone either. And this felt nice, it felt peaceful. Will was warm and comforting, and made Fisher feel special. He could become addicted to this.
He knew what Will meant. Life was too short, especially for him, not to go for what you really wanted. He knew he could do it, too, if he could get his head in the game and not fuck around so much. Closing his eyes, Fisher started drifting off to sleep, his thoughts on Will. The angel was such an... angel. He would probably never understand how wonderful he'd been to Fisher.
"I had a dream once I got to nail George Clooney, is that the dream I should follow?" He dropped his hands down onto Will's, holding it gently. "That's a dream I'd follow."