SHINee: Blind
Blind
jonghyun/key, 450 words, pg, disclaimer: I don't own them, warnings: m/m summary: thoughts alone in the dark, and a bit of a lightbulb moment
Blind
There’s something about the way he looks at you.
It’s different, like he sees you. Therefore he has to know the way you wish you could see him too. But you can’t because there some kind of coolness there; it’s some kind of wall that’s as intriguing as it is frustrating at times.
“Key,” you whisper.
He doesn’t hear you of course. The only time you say his name like this is when you’re alone. It’s safe to let out those hushed whispers filled with a submission so subtle you barely know it’s there.
You have formed his name on your lips in a myriad of sounds and a puzzle of situations. All of them have been attached with the same hollow resignation that he will never hear you call him like this.
Your eyes close as you shut yourself further away and sigh in the stillness. You can’t help but admit it’s mildly comforting, to be away from it all, but never too far away.
A knock on the door interrupts. You blink several times as if you can ignore it, but the sound continues in short intrusions. With a silent curse you get up, and not entirely trusting your legs, cautiously walk toward the door. It whines as you open it slowly; light enters the room in a widening beam. An impatient hand pushes the door open in one swift motion, and you flinch at the sudden exposure.
“Key,” you hear yourself say. Again.
“What took you so long?” He asks and gives you a playful push on the shoulder. You feel like you could stumble backwards, knowing full well the cause of your weakness.
You begin to reply but stop; he’s already moved on with a familiar energy.
“I bet you were daydreaming,” a slight pause, “maybe you should leave that to the fans,” he jokes as a grin stretches across his face.
It’s moments like these that make you think you could almost hate him for being so blind. If you could it might be easier, instead you can only imagine reaching out a trembling hand and pulling him into the darkness. You would let him grab you by the collar the way he likes, and then as he presses his body against yours, you would beg him to kiss you until you stopped trembling, knowing your body won’t let you.
A light touch on your arm cuts off your thoughts and you realize you haven’t answered. Key is looking at you with a thinly veiled smile on his lips.
“Something else then?” he says playfully.
He winks.
You realize then that your throat is dry with nervousness, or excitement. Perhaps it’s realization.
He knows.
jonghyun/key, 450 words, pg, disclaimer: I don't own them, warnings: m/m summary: thoughts alone in the dark, and a bit of a lightbulb moment
Blind
There’s something about the way he looks at you.
It’s different, like he sees you. Therefore he has to know the way you wish you could see him too. But you can’t because there some kind of coolness there; it’s some kind of wall that’s as intriguing as it is frustrating at times.
“Key,” you whisper.
He doesn’t hear you of course. The only time you say his name like this is when you’re alone. It’s safe to let out those hushed whispers filled with a submission so subtle you barely know it’s there.
You have formed his name on your lips in a myriad of sounds and a puzzle of situations. All of them have been attached with the same hollow resignation that he will never hear you call him like this.
Your eyes close as you shut yourself further away and sigh in the stillness. You can’t help but admit it’s mildly comforting, to be away from it all, but never too far away.
A knock on the door interrupts. You blink several times as if you can ignore it, but the sound continues in short intrusions. With a silent curse you get up, and not entirely trusting your legs, cautiously walk toward the door. It whines as you open it slowly; light enters the room in a widening beam. An impatient hand pushes the door open in one swift motion, and you flinch at the sudden exposure.
“Key,” you hear yourself say. Again.
“What took you so long?” He asks and gives you a playful push on the shoulder. You feel like you could stumble backwards, knowing full well the cause of your weakness.
You begin to reply but stop; he’s already moved on with a familiar energy.
“I bet you were daydreaming,” a slight pause, “maybe you should leave that to the fans,” he jokes as a grin stretches across his face.
It’s moments like these that make you think you could almost hate him for being so blind. If you could it might be easier, instead you can only imagine reaching out a trembling hand and pulling him into the darkness. You would let him grab you by the collar the way he likes, and then as he presses his body against yours, you would beg him to kiss you until you stopped trembling, knowing your body won’t let you.
A light touch on your arm cuts off your thoughts and you realize you haven’t answered. Key is looking at you with a thinly veiled smile on his lips.
“Something else then?” he says playfully.
He winks.
You realize then that your throat is dry with nervousness, or excitement. Perhaps it’s realization.
He knows.