knlalla:

mmm for context (x) and like you’re welcome to check out pfc? (x) but uhhh look i tried my hand at it…

read on ao3

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This isn’t at all the kind of place Dan would normally walk into, not in a thousand years. And he’s had a thousand, and then some, but he’s never quite worked up the nerve to actually act on the passing desire that tugged at his chest whenever he walked past a place like this until today.

And maybe that had been a good thing.

He stands just inside the entrance now, self-consciousness dripping from his pores like sweat as he takes in the dark scene around him: blueish purple UV lights cast odd, hazy shadows, throwing the entire club – stage and all – into a cool mess of shapes; Dan catches a glint every now and again as white teeth flash at him from unknown faces. He’s suddenly not so sure this had been as great an idea as it was the moment he pulled himself to a stop at the door.

Not for the first time, he’s left cursing the pure white of the feathered wings arching from his back – they’re lovely, sure, but the blacklight highlights them like a spotlight, drawing looks from every corner as he takes a few hesitant steps further into the darkness of the club.

But he’s determined, if nothing else – at least enough to try to fit in, now that he’s here. It’d be far more embarrassing to turn tail and run now that he’s inside than to stay and act like he knows what he’s here for.

In a way, though, he does know: his eyes flick up to the long stage running through the middle of the club, a thrill spiking in his chest in spite of the empty runway.

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