Skies Shaded Black Part For Us
Skies Shaded Black Part For Us
Tablo/Eunhyuk, dystopia!au, R, 1306 words, Archive
The world is the Enemy and they've only got each other.
The walls are a bit drab, Tablo thinks.
Then again, concrete always makes for a sad choice of decor.
And then again, like he could bring himself to care what the place fucking looks like when Eunhyuk runs his hands up Tablo's torso, chest, shoulders and his leather jacket slips to the ground.
"Mmrph," Tablo grunts against Eunhyuk's mouth.
Hands glide until they find their place at his waist and Tablo feels himself being pushed. The back of his knees meet the foot of the bed and he collapses onto a pile of graying pillows laying atop faded sheets. He coughs at the small clouds of dust that billow from the sheets like steam off hot water.
One of the drawbacks of hiding out in random abandoned buildings with broken windows that let shit fly in. But they've seen worse outside being chased by Enemy troopers in their black-sooted wake, kicking up the earth they've all destroyed twice over.
The mattress dips as Eunhyuk climbs on with one knee, and two, and Tablo can't move, can't breathe. Eunhyuk's hair is a halo of wavy red, as bright as the gritty light could make it shine. He reveals his pale arms, smooth and tight, pulling his own jacket off and tossing it to the side as he reaches to lock his arms around Tablo's chest.
His hold is strong and firm, and Tablo doesn't have to question Eunhyuk's desire, need to stay by his side.
"Hey," he says, and he feels Eunhyuk's hum like a current against his neck and down his body through to every little nerve ending.
He forgets what he wants to ask, but doesn't mind so much with a mouth trailing down to the edge of the shirt he wonders how he still has on. And it's like Eunhyuk is reading his mind, reaching under it and growls like he wants to rip it off and Tablo would let him because Eunhyuk had given it to him, looted it specifically for him. He wouldn't, because it's the only shirt Tablo owns, but Tablo would still let him.
What Eunhyuk gives, only Eunhyuk can take away. But he tugs at it gently. As gentle as his tongue tracking a wet path across his collarbone. It feels good to have the warm breath on him so near, so ragged, so alive that Tablo doesn't want to stop him, but he kind of does because he needs nearer, he needs closer, he needs it so that there is no space of separation between them, so he twists to hold Eunhyuk down, and pushes his wife beater up and over and off and there's nothing but planes of skin yet to be touched by the violence of nature. He nips at the pristine skin of his neck and lingers there, Eunhyuk's mewling sending jolts of uncomfortable heat to his groin; he sucks until the flesh is tainted bright pink, intensified by the red tendrils beside it. He moves up to look at his work and smirks when fingers tangle with his hair to tug him back down. Eunhyuk's eyes are brilliantly vivid as Tablo's lips drag wet down his chest, his stomach, swirling around his navel to the telltale hairs that disappear under stiff black denim.
Eunhyuk is beauty incarnate under the streams of dim and dying sun, sinewy white limbs contrasting clean against the musty grime of the room. The sweat beading down his face only enhances the image and Tablo crawls his way back up to kiss them off his temples, his cheeks to the strong jut of his jaw, groaning when Eunhyuk bucks his hips up to his own.
"Not enough," Eunhyuk nearly whimpers, using the deepest, manliest voice he can muster because he's not begging. He won't beg here, but Tablo knows he wants to and he knows that he wants Eunhyuk to beg. For him and no one else.
He shifts to pull pillows from under Eunhyuk's head and arranges them for himself. His need is obvious as he sits up against them, but when Eunhyuk's hands come to undo his jeans, he stops them.
"Strip first," he says, before Eunhyuk can manipulate him with those pleading eyes he can't refuse, before he loses his dignity panting for him. Eunhyuk, audacious and almost arrogant Eunhyuk who can take down the Enemy with no more than the blink of an eye and a fist. And maybe a bomb or two.
Tablo takes pleasure in seeing him this state, obeying so easily, pants and all discarded with two simple words. Eunhyuk wants just as much as he does and with that knowledge, he can't help it, he lets out something of a whine. Dignity be damned.
The grin baring gums nearly puts Tablo over the edge. He holds on, but Eunhyuk bends down to nestle himself against his body, naked, ready, willing, and he's close, they're both so close, but definitely not close enough. His own pants are in the way and he regrets (very much regrets) having Eunhyuk undressed first.
Eunhyuk's fingers run a smooth line along his ribs, up to graze a nipple. Tablo jerks up, but Eunhyuk's body keeps him down while his mouth is bringing him up, and his mind flies above the black cloud of smog that covers the mythical blue sky.
He needs more, he thinks, not even sure how that's possible, and he wants desperately to just say Now and beg for himself. Instead he pushes Eunhyuk away, and there's distance, too much distance, and Eunhyuk whines and trembles with his whole body, Want.
It's too attractive, too appealing, but he somehow manages a voice of authority. "What do you need?" What can't you live without?, he means.
Eunhyuk understands, he understands the best, and Tablo loves that the best about him. He runs a tongue along his lips shaded roseate, his hands are in admirable restraint from touching himself, and cries weakly, "You."
It is the most captivating word Tablo has ever heard, and control is thrown out the broken windows, pulling Eunhyuk into his grasp and kissing him rough and proprietorial. Only Eunhyuk pulls away with a straight face, lust soaking his brow. "Pants. Off," he rumbles, not wasting breath for full sentences, and when Tablo doesn't make any move to oblige because he's too heated to be capable, Eunhyuk does it himself and it's a sight, a wonderful sight, seeing himself released from the prison of fabric, unbearably constricting, by someone so eager for him, so in need of him.
Then, it's like heaven, the skin on skin, the full contact, the sensational burn of arousal to arousal. And nothing matters as they clutch to each other, Eunhyuk straddling his hips and moving against him in the closest way, the most marvelously satisfying way he could ever move. Tablo is licking along Eunhyuk's neck and Eunhyuk's hands are roaming, struggling to find a resting place, but with nowhere they want to stop, greedily feeling every inch over and over and over. His nose is buried in Tablo's shoulder, and he feels Eunhyuk's tears as their hips move faster, the friction, needs more, more, more until Tablo sees the bright clear and clean skies drawn on Eunhyuk's neck stretched back before him.
He sees paradise, laying kisses on the exquisite skin's surface, gripping his arms around Eunhyuk's chest and those strong pale arms do the same around his shoulders as they both come down, slow. Content.
They both roll over onto their sides together, Eunhyuk's legs wrapping fully around Tablo's thighs, never letting even a millimeter of space come between them.
"I need you," Tablo whispers, and Eunhyuk nods against his shoulder, kissing it with a gentleness of butterflies' wings, a softness that comes rare in this world of destruction and wreckage.
They feel alive.
fin.
A/N: Uhm... lol. My traverse into smut. And watch me slide right back out. 8D Basically, Run!Blo + a mix of Supershow II Don't Don!Hyuk and KSJ Ggeut!Hyuk~ (... And maybe also my desktop image)
First time I've tried so hard to get a fic out in ages. Everyone can thank my flist for being so supportive and grabby-handsy of pr0nz. _-_
Tablo/Eunhyuk, dystopia!au, R, 1306 words, Archive
The world is the Enemy and they've only got each other.
The walls are a bit drab, Tablo thinks.
Then again, concrete always makes for a sad choice of decor.
And then again, like he could bring himself to care what the place fucking looks like when Eunhyuk runs his hands up Tablo's torso, chest, shoulders and his leather jacket slips to the ground.
"Mmrph," Tablo grunts against Eunhyuk's mouth.
Hands glide until they find their place at his waist and Tablo feels himself being pushed. The back of his knees meet the foot of the bed and he collapses onto a pile of graying pillows laying atop faded sheets. He coughs at the small clouds of dust that billow from the sheets like steam off hot water.
One of the drawbacks of hiding out in random abandoned buildings with broken windows that let shit fly in. But they've seen worse outside being chased by Enemy troopers in their black-sooted wake, kicking up the earth they've all destroyed twice over.
The mattress dips as Eunhyuk climbs on with one knee, and two, and Tablo can't move, can't breathe. Eunhyuk's hair is a halo of wavy red, as bright as the gritty light could make it shine. He reveals his pale arms, smooth and tight, pulling his own jacket off and tossing it to the side as he reaches to lock his arms around Tablo's chest.
His hold is strong and firm, and Tablo doesn't have to question Eunhyuk's desire, need to stay by his side.
"Hey," he says, and he feels Eunhyuk's hum like a current against his neck and down his body through to every little nerve ending.
He forgets what he wants to ask, but doesn't mind so much with a mouth trailing down to the edge of the shirt he wonders how he still has on. And it's like Eunhyuk is reading his mind, reaching under it and growls like he wants to rip it off and Tablo would let him because Eunhyuk had given it to him, looted it specifically for him. He wouldn't, because it's the only shirt Tablo owns, but Tablo would still let him.
What Eunhyuk gives, only Eunhyuk can take away. But he tugs at it gently. As gentle as his tongue tracking a wet path across his collarbone. It feels good to have the warm breath on him so near, so ragged, so alive that Tablo doesn't want to stop him, but he kind of does because he needs nearer, he needs closer, he needs it so that there is no space of separation between them, so he twists to hold Eunhyuk down, and pushes his wife beater up and over and off and there's nothing but planes of skin yet to be touched by the violence of nature. He nips at the pristine skin of his neck and lingers there, Eunhyuk's mewling sending jolts of uncomfortable heat to his groin; he sucks until the flesh is tainted bright pink, intensified by the red tendrils beside it. He moves up to look at his work and smirks when fingers tangle with his hair to tug him back down. Eunhyuk's eyes are brilliantly vivid as Tablo's lips drag wet down his chest, his stomach, swirling around his navel to the telltale hairs that disappear under stiff black denim.
Eunhyuk is beauty incarnate under the streams of dim and dying sun, sinewy white limbs contrasting clean against the musty grime of the room. The sweat beading down his face only enhances the image and Tablo crawls his way back up to kiss them off his temples, his cheeks to the strong jut of his jaw, groaning when Eunhyuk bucks his hips up to his own.
"Not enough," Eunhyuk nearly whimpers, using the deepest, manliest voice he can muster because he's not begging. He won't beg here, but Tablo knows he wants to and he knows that he wants Eunhyuk to beg. For him and no one else.
He shifts to pull pillows from under Eunhyuk's head and arranges them for himself. His need is obvious as he sits up against them, but when Eunhyuk's hands come to undo his jeans, he stops them.
"Strip first," he says, before Eunhyuk can manipulate him with those pleading eyes he can't refuse, before he loses his dignity panting for him. Eunhyuk, audacious and almost arrogant Eunhyuk who can take down the Enemy with no more than the blink of an eye and a fist. And maybe a bomb or two.
Tablo takes pleasure in seeing him this state, obeying so easily, pants and all discarded with two simple words. Eunhyuk wants just as much as he does and with that knowledge, he can't help it, he lets out something of a whine. Dignity be damned.
The grin baring gums nearly puts Tablo over the edge. He holds on, but Eunhyuk bends down to nestle himself against his body, naked, ready, willing, and he's close, they're both so close, but definitely not close enough. His own pants are in the way and he regrets (very much regrets) having Eunhyuk undressed first.
Eunhyuk's fingers run a smooth line along his ribs, up to graze a nipple. Tablo jerks up, but Eunhyuk's body keeps him down while his mouth is bringing him up, and his mind flies above the black cloud of smog that covers the mythical blue sky.
He needs more, he thinks, not even sure how that's possible, and he wants desperately to just say Now and beg for himself. Instead he pushes Eunhyuk away, and there's distance, too much distance, and Eunhyuk whines and trembles with his whole body, Want.
It's too attractive, too appealing, but he somehow manages a voice of authority. "What do you need?" What can't you live without?, he means.
Eunhyuk understands, he understands the best, and Tablo loves that the best about him. He runs a tongue along his lips shaded roseate, his hands are in admirable restraint from touching himself, and cries weakly, "You."
It is the most captivating word Tablo has ever heard, and control is thrown out the broken windows, pulling Eunhyuk into his grasp and kissing him rough and proprietorial. Only Eunhyuk pulls away with a straight face, lust soaking his brow. "Pants. Off," he rumbles, not wasting breath for full sentences, and when Tablo doesn't make any move to oblige because he's too heated to be capable, Eunhyuk does it himself and it's a sight, a wonderful sight, seeing himself released from the prison of fabric, unbearably constricting, by someone so eager for him, so in need of him.
Then, it's like heaven, the skin on skin, the full contact, the sensational burn of arousal to arousal. And nothing matters as they clutch to each other, Eunhyuk straddling his hips and moving against him in the closest way, the most marvelously satisfying way he could ever move. Tablo is licking along Eunhyuk's neck and Eunhyuk's hands are roaming, struggling to find a resting place, but with nowhere they want to stop, greedily feeling every inch over and over and over. His nose is buried in Tablo's shoulder, and he feels Eunhyuk's tears as their hips move faster, the friction, needs more, more, more until Tablo sees the bright clear and clean skies drawn on Eunhyuk's neck stretched back before him.
He sees paradise, laying kisses on the exquisite skin's surface, gripping his arms around Eunhyuk's chest and those strong pale arms do the same around his shoulders as they both come down, slow. Content.
They both roll over onto their sides together, Eunhyuk's legs wrapping fully around Tablo's thighs, never letting even a millimeter of space come between them.
"I need you," Tablo whispers, and Eunhyuk nods against his shoulder, kissing it with a gentleness of butterflies' wings, a softness that comes rare in this world of destruction and wreckage.
They feel alive.
fin.
A/N: Uhm... lol. My traverse into smut. And watch me slide right back out. 8D Basically, Run!Blo + a mix of Supershow II Don't Don!Hyuk and KSJ Ggeut!Hyuk~ (... And maybe also my desktop image)
First time I've tried so hard to get a fic out in ages. Everyone can thank my flist for being so supportive and grabby-handsy of pr0nz. _-_