Bass by Tem-ve H’syan

His eyes are not on his hands, not where skilled blunt fingertips caress and pummel the cobalt blue custom Fender Jazz into sweet throbbing submission. His eyes are not anywhere on the trajectory of a small pale green item of feminine clothing about to flop down at his feet, missing its mark by a good six feet, he suspects. His eyes are not on the likely originator of said pale green item, frantically waving her arms in the air, her head thrown back in a scream of frenzied excitement as Ben-K goes down on one knee and wraps himself around the mike stand sinuously, crawling towards her while belting out the high notes like an angel in agony. The slack khaki pants that have threatened to fall off his hips all evening have slid a little lower. 

From where he is standing, the view is perfect.

Mature, band!AU. This really shouldn’t work, but it very much does. In few words the author paints a picture of our boys, different but recognizable. 

Bass by Tem-ve H’syan

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