Kei says it's not but I say it is
If only I could write Shihan as easily as I do Blohyuk. -facepalms-
Title: Burned Cigarette Tips
Pairing: Blohyuk
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Not mine don't sue
It’s hard to explain really.
There is absolutely no reason for him to be attracted to the scrawny boy being shoved on stage. The sound of his warbling voice and his embarrassed crimson flushed face wasn’t suppose to be alluring.
And yet, it is. He is. Attractive that is.
Daniel hates asinine sayings like “love at first sight” and “I knew he was the one,” but he still finds himself leaning forward across the table. His elbows are like jagged swords shoved deep against the tabletop and he rests his chin across the folded platforms of his hands.
The boy’s friends sit in the front row, goading him on over the clink of their overflowing beer mugs. The boy stammers. He says he isn’t going to sing this time, that he isn’t ready for it but every attempt he makes to get off the stage is easily and swiftly thwarted.
Daniel knows that the blinding stage lights make it difficult to see beyond the front row. He knows that he could chain smoke away his thoughts in peace without catching the boy’s attention.
But he wants to catch his attention. The tip of his cigarette flares an obnoxiously bright orange as he takes a deep inhale.
How to explain his attraction to this boy? As his fingers tapped across the scarred surface of the wooden table, he couldn’t, not really.
Then, Daniel hears it. “Yah Hyukjae! You promised to sing a ballad!”
Hyukjae trips over his words, and promises to sing the ballad tomorrow. He says his voice isn’t that great today. His companions turn to the room at large, even though nobody except Daniel is paying attention. They announce, “Tomorrow, our own Hyukjae will perform a ballad for you all.”
Tomorrow, huh? Daniel stubs out his cigarette as he gets ready to leave. He would just have to come back tomorrow then.
Title: Burned Cigarette Tips
Pairing: Blohyuk
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Not mine don't sue
It’s hard to explain really.
There is absolutely no reason for him to be attracted to the scrawny boy being shoved on stage. The sound of his warbling voice and his embarrassed crimson flushed face wasn’t suppose to be alluring.
And yet, it is. He is. Attractive that is.
Daniel hates asinine sayings like “love at first sight” and “I knew he was the one,” but he still finds himself leaning forward across the table. His elbows are like jagged swords shoved deep against the tabletop and he rests his chin across the folded platforms of his hands.
The boy’s friends sit in the front row, goading him on over the clink of their overflowing beer mugs. The boy stammers. He says he isn’t going to sing this time, that he isn’t ready for it but every attempt he makes to get off the stage is easily and swiftly thwarted.
Daniel knows that the blinding stage lights make it difficult to see beyond the front row. He knows that he could chain smoke away his thoughts in peace without catching the boy’s attention.
But he wants to catch his attention. The tip of his cigarette flares an obnoxiously bright orange as he takes a deep inhale.
How to explain his attraction to this boy? As his fingers tapped across the scarred surface of the wooden table, he couldn’t, not really.
Then, Daniel hears it. “Yah Hyukjae! You promised to sing a ballad!”
Hyukjae trips over his words, and promises to sing the ballad tomorrow. He says his voice isn’t that great today. His companions turn to the room at large, even though nobody except Daniel is paying attention. They announce, “Tomorrow, our own Hyukjae will perform a ballad for you all.”
Tomorrow, huh? Daniel stubs out his cigarette as he gets ready to leave. He would just have to come back tomorrow then.