Baby, It's You (McLennon)

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He let his mind wander as he watched the man opposite him, much the same way he'd done so many times before. And just like always, he found himself utterly mesmerised. How could anyone be that beautiful? He realised it wasn't the most masculine word to use in reference to a bloke, but somehow it was the only word that fit.

There it was again, that thing he would do when he was pondering something. He was just biting his nails; it shouldn't be anything noteworthy. And it wasn't; not if anyone else did it. But this wasn't anyone else, this was the most intoxicating human being he'd ever met.

It occurred to him that if he was ever to get it on with a bloke, it could only ever be the one he was watching now. The way those slender hands danced across the fretboard, playing the most beautiful basslines known to man, more than once made him think what those fingers could do to his body.

What would it be like if those big, hazel eyes would look at him with lust? If he thought about it hard enough, he could just imagine how they'd be half-lidded, and how those luscious eyelashes would cast a shadow over the irises that would either turn bright green or nearly black.

Oh, the thought of kissing those lips, ravaging that mouth with his tongue, inspiring it to utter sounds unlike anything anyone ever heard in this studio. He was sure that someone with such a fabulous voice would make noises that might make him weep with joy.

There it was again - that finger against his bottom lip and that dreamy expression in those droopy eyes.

How would that hair - that shiny, thick hair - feel against his skin? Would it tickle his stomach if the head it grew on gradually moved down towards his midsection? Would it feel soft between his fingers if he'd lace his hands in that black mane? Would he moan, if he pulled it just a little?

He revelled in the way his name sounded when said by that gorgeous human being. As ordinary as his name might be, the single syllable never failed to take on a certain sexiness when spoken in that sultry voice. Funny how someone with such a low speaking voice always sang in such a high pitch. It only added to the enigma.

Now that enchanting gaze was upon him and those kissable lips formed words. He tore himself from his daydream and tried to focus on the task at hand. He turned slightly to make sure he could see those able digits caress the strings.

Yes, if ever he'd have the courage to act upon his curiosity, it could only ever be with Paul.

Mademoiselle Kitty (Macca4Ever) One ShotsWhere stories live. Discover now