sync
sync
Jonghyun/Minho; pg-13, 200 wds.
the spotlight casts long shadows.
Jonghyun had seen The Wizard of Oz enough times to know that the man behind the curtain wasn't someone he wanted to be-but according to the company that had promised him his dreams on a silver platter, that was all he got.
Minho looked the part of a superstar: shampoo-commercial hair, white teeth, long legs. His features were symmetrical and his dance moves were perfect.
But his voice, when he sang, was Jonghyun's.
Jonghyun tried to hate him, but the kid was just too damn nice. He was as polite and respectful as he was beautiful, and for Jonghyun that almost made it worse, sometimes. Because standing on the wings of a stage that would never be his, Jonghyun didn't want Minho's hand on his shoulder, saying words like I'm sorry, hyung, and it should be you.
The kiss wasn't what he wanted it to be. He'd been desperate for control of just this one thing, but had ended up being the person gasping for air, hands scrabbling for purchase in the folds of Minho's shirt, and wasn't that just fucking typical.
It will be you, Minho promised, lips to Jonghyun's ear. Next time, he swore.
Jonghyun knew better than to believe it.
Jonghyun/Minho; pg-13, 200 wds.
the spotlight casts long shadows.
Jonghyun had seen The Wizard of Oz enough times to know that the man behind the curtain wasn't someone he wanted to be-but according to the company that had promised him his dreams on a silver platter, that was all he got.
Minho looked the part of a superstar: shampoo-commercial hair, white teeth, long legs. His features were symmetrical and his dance moves were perfect.
But his voice, when he sang, was Jonghyun's.
Jonghyun tried to hate him, but the kid was just too damn nice. He was as polite and respectful as he was beautiful, and for Jonghyun that almost made it worse, sometimes. Because standing on the wings of a stage that would never be his, Jonghyun didn't want Minho's hand on his shoulder, saying words like I'm sorry, hyung, and it should be you.
The kiss wasn't what he wanted it to be. He'd been desperate for control of just this one thing, but had ended up being the person gasping for air, hands scrabbling for purchase in the folds of Minho's shirt, and wasn't that just fucking typical.
It will be you, Minho promised, lips to Jonghyun's ear. Next time, he swore.
Jonghyun knew better than to believe it.