A Sip and a Swallow, OR Wai j00 in Mai Wayz, Table? ):
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Title: A Sip and a Swallow, OR Wai j00 in Mai Wayz, Table? ): (hyukaday #30)
Pairing: Tablo/Eunhyuk
Oh look! Beta!: zoolooney w/ help from rodiy
Length: 1259 words
Rating: PG-13
Genre: college!au
Disclaimer: I do not own real people.
Summary: Part 1 and Part 0. Continuation of this and this.
Author’s Note: To support rodiy's very special project (in which she writes a drabble every day for a month based on shihanaday entries), I have committed to doing SEVEN drabble/fics inspired by pics from hyukaday... as opposed to a month's worth, cause I suck like that. :D
Rules, what rules? I pick ANY SEVEN pictures from hyukaday for inspiration. No deadline (for me).
x-posted to miracle______, epikjunior, and blohyuk
Hyukaday #30
The walls were a dark orange shaded in sepia, and the fancy hanging lights went unused due to the large glass wall entrance allowing for copious amounts of sunlight to flood in. There was ambient jazz music playing as if this were some new-age coffeehouse, instead of the hipster tapioca milk-tea shop that was trying slightly too hard to be more than just a quickly fading trend.
Tablo had to admit, this was really the last place he had expected Hyukjae to choose when he had asked him where to meet. Maybe it was because he was so used to stalking him on campus. But then again, he just didn’t know what to expect at all.
”H-hello?”
“Hey, Hyukjae?”
“T-Tablo-ssi, how are you?”
“Ah, I… I’m good. Hey, I’m sorry I didn’t call ‘til now… I was…” … being an idiot and pining for you when I could’ve just fucking called you and met you and touched you already? ”… busy, but would you… do you - do you have time today?”
That was one of the most nerve-wracking phone calls he’d ever made, the other one being when he told his parents he was going to be a rapper instead of going to law school. When he realized Hyukjae had said yes, his mind seemed to overload, his words tumbling over each other even further and would have come out in a spew of incoherent nonsense - if not for his acutely careful concentration and a really high desire to not sound completely retarded.
Tablo leaned into the back of the aesthetically pleasing, but otherwise impractical, wood-framed seat, setting down his cup of elaborately named something-or-other that had too much milk and not enough caffeine. It had enough sugar though. More than enough to keep him wired for a good hour before a sugar coma hit.
Hyukjae was sitting in the couch seat against the wall across from him, sitting up so straight that Tablo wondered if his back hurt. His hands nervously fidgeted with a cup containing a sugar-infused iced beverage similar to Tablo’s own. Hyukjae had taken off his glasses when they had sat down after getting their drinks, taking his dear sweet time to tuck them carefully away in his backpack. His eyes were trained on his hands, blinking rapidly, not blinking, blinking again. Tablo had wondered if Hyukjae’s eyes hurt, or if it was just a meaningless action to give himself something to do.
With every second of silence, it was becoming painfully clear that Hyukjae was even more nervous than he was. But what did he expect from this kid that hid amazing dance skill and talent behind rectangular, thick-rimmed glasses and a Genetics textbook? Tablo didn’t know whether or not to point out that this unpretentiously reticent (and if he didn’t know any better, coy) behavior made him want to take him home and… do things to him.
This boy… This boy always made his words fail. Where were his lyrics, his rhymes, his flows now? He shook his head. Okay. Just say something. Anything. Anything.
“So, you… like milk-tea?” What in the fuck - of all the inane-
Hyukjae looked up, and quickly looked down again when he saw that Tablo’s eyes were intent on him. “A-a little. Sometimes. Actually, th-this one is the only kind I get.” He lifted the cup and shook it a bit with that familiar shy smile.
Tablo’s mouth seemed to dry inexplicably quickly. He hurriedly flicked a tongue out to wet his lips. “O-Oh,” he stammered.
Their silence seemed to swirl endlessly, even amidst the surrounding music softly emanating from strategically placed speakers, until Hyukjae seemed to finally have gathered up enough courage to say, “T-Tablo-ssi-“
“Seonwoong,” Tablo interrupted, as he shifted forward hastily in his seat, hands on both knees.
Hyukjae’s eyes widened. “Seonwoong?”
“Lee Seonwoong. That’s my real name. Well, my Korean name anyways. Everyone calls me by my stage name, but… I thought… it would be right to give you my real name. Most people call me by my English name, Daniel, too. But… you. You can pick whichever,” Tablo said, trying to look confident, but ended his sentence apprehensively, looking towards the ground and attempting to keep his breathing even.
He had planned to say this sooner (the night they ‘met,’ in fact), but he had forgotten in the heat of the moment. Maybe if we’d had any semblance of a sober conversation before jumping into bed with each other, I wouldn’t be so damned shy right now, he thought, with a bit of regret. “I… want to be able to talk comfortably with you.”
There was a pause before he peered up to find Hyukjae fighting a grin. “We… We don’t know a lot about each other, huh,” Hyukjae declared. He gave up trying to keep a straight-face and full-on smiled brighter than the rays of light flowing through the window. “But that’s okay. ‘Cause… ever since I saw you on stage and heard your lyrics… I… I’ve wanted to know more and…” He bit his lip. “I’m glad.”
A flash of shock passed over Tablo’s face, but was replaced quickly with relief. “I’m glad, too. I…” he hesitated, but a sudden resolve overtook him. “Actually, the reason why I didn’t call sooner was because… I was afraid that you didn’t really… want me,” he cleared his throat awkwardly.
Hyukjae gaped at him, nearly spilling his drink as it loosened from his grip. Thankfully, he caught it before it could tip all the way, placing it on the table before he could mishandle it again. “Really!? That-That’s-“ He stopped to think.
With his mouth still hanging open and looking so astonished that Tablo thought he might’ve been going into cardiac arrest, he exclaimed, “That’s not the case at all! I thought… I thought you were the one that didn’t want me, since… it was just one night and… I know you got me invited to the party and everything, but I thought after-Mmmrrrph-“
Tablo had shot up out of his seat, somehow bypassing the small, round table between them in one swift movement, and practically attacked Hyukjae. Their lips were pressed together haphazardly with Tablo’s left hand holding the nape of his neck as the other found its way to his back, his knee resting between Hyukjae’s thighs. Somehow, Hyukjae’s arms found their rest on Tablo’s shoulders, his hands in his hair.
Hyukjae let out a moan that snapped Tablo back to reality, and he grudgingly reminded himself that they were in public. Slowly, slowly, he pulled away and the younger seemed make a quiet noise of protest.
Luckily, they were in the corner way in the back, away from the crowd up front, but there were still a few bewildered stares in their direction. Though Tablo couldn’t give a flying shit what they were thinking, being an exhibitionist wasn’t exactly on the top of his to-do list. He reluctantly backed away, trying to catch his breath, but moved to sit next to Hyukjae.
“I want you,” he breathed simply. “No doubt about that.”
They both turned to look at each other, holding each other’s gaze before softly laughing together.
Tablo watched as Hyukjae picked up his drink and sipped it. Hyukjae noticed his gaze and his eyes filled with mirth, lips still pursed around his straw and gulping down the liquid, the smooth skin of his throat catching Tablo’s eye.
He attempted to quell the urge to take him home right then. And do things to him.
Title: A Sip and a Swallow, OR Wai j00 in Mai Wayz, Table? ): (hyukaday #30)
Pairing: Tablo/Eunhyuk
Oh look! Beta!: zoolooney w/ help from rodiy
Length: 1259 words
Rating: PG-13
Genre: college!au
Disclaimer: I do not own real people.
Summary: Part 1 and Part 0. Continuation of this and this.
Author’s Note: To support rodiy's very special project (in which she writes a drabble every day for a month based on shihanaday entries), I have committed to doing SEVEN drabble/fics inspired by pics from hyukaday... as opposed to a month's worth, cause I suck like that. :D
Rules, what rules? I pick ANY SEVEN pictures from hyukaday for inspiration. No deadline (for me).
x-posted to miracle______, epikjunior, and blohyuk
Hyukaday #30
The walls were a dark orange shaded in sepia, and the fancy hanging lights went unused due to the large glass wall entrance allowing for copious amounts of sunlight to flood in. There was ambient jazz music playing as if this were some new-age coffeehouse, instead of the hipster tapioca milk-tea shop that was trying slightly too hard to be more than just a quickly fading trend.
Tablo had to admit, this was really the last place he had expected Hyukjae to choose when he had asked him where to meet. Maybe it was because he was so used to stalking him on campus. But then again, he just didn’t know what to expect at all.
”H-hello?”
“Hey, Hyukjae?”
“T-Tablo-ssi, how are you?”
“Ah, I… I’m good. Hey, I’m sorry I didn’t call ‘til now… I was…” … being an idiot and pining for you when I could’ve just fucking called you and met you and touched you already? ”… busy, but would you… do you - do you have time today?”
That was one of the most nerve-wracking phone calls he’d ever made, the other one being when he told his parents he was going to be a rapper instead of going to law school. When he realized Hyukjae had said yes, his mind seemed to overload, his words tumbling over each other even further and would have come out in a spew of incoherent nonsense - if not for his acutely careful concentration and a really high desire to not sound completely retarded.
Tablo leaned into the back of the aesthetically pleasing, but otherwise impractical, wood-framed seat, setting down his cup of elaborately named something-or-other that had too much milk and not enough caffeine. It had enough sugar though. More than enough to keep him wired for a good hour before a sugar coma hit.
Hyukjae was sitting in the couch seat against the wall across from him, sitting up so straight that Tablo wondered if his back hurt. His hands nervously fidgeted with a cup containing a sugar-infused iced beverage similar to Tablo’s own. Hyukjae had taken off his glasses when they had sat down after getting their drinks, taking his dear sweet time to tuck them carefully away in his backpack. His eyes were trained on his hands, blinking rapidly, not blinking, blinking again. Tablo had wondered if Hyukjae’s eyes hurt, or if it was just a meaningless action to give himself something to do.
With every second of silence, it was becoming painfully clear that Hyukjae was even more nervous than he was. But what did he expect from this kid that hid amazing dance skill and talent behind rectangular, thick-rimmed glasses and a Genetics textbook? Tablo didn’t know whether or not to point out that this unpretentiously reticent (and if he didn’t know any better, coy) behavior made him want to take him home and… do things to him.
This boy… This boy always made his words fail. Where were his lyrics, his rhymes, his flows now? He shook his head. Okay. Just say something. Anything. Anything.
“So, you… like milk-tea?” What in the fuck - of all the inane-
Hyukjae looked up, and quickly looked down again when he saw that Tablo’s eyes were intent on him. “A-a little. Sometimes. Actually, th-this one is the only kind I get.” He lifted the cup and shook it a bit with that familiar shy smile.
Tablo’s mouth seemed to dry inexplicably quickly. He hurriedly flicked a tongue out to wet his lips. “O-Oh,” he stammered.
Their silence seemed to swirl endlessly, even amidst the surrounding music softly emanating from strategically placed speakers, until Hyukjae seemed to finally have gathered up enough courage to say, “T-Tablo-ssi-“
“Seonwoong,” Tablo interrupted, as he shifted forward hastily in his seat, hands on both knees.
Hyukjae’s eyes widened. “Seonwoong?”
“Lee Seonwoong. That’s my real name. Well, my Korean name anyways. Everyone calls me by my stage name, but… I thought… it would be right to give you my real name. Most people call me by my English name, Daniel, too. But… you. You can pick whichever,” Tablo said, trying to look confident, but ended his sentence apprehensively, looking towards the ground and attempting to keep his breathing even.
He had planned to say this sooner (the night they ‘met,’ in fact), but he had forgotten in the heat of the moment. Maybe if we’d had any semblance of a sober conversation before jumping into bed with each other, I wouldn’t be so damned shy right now, he thought, with a bit of regret. “I… want to be able to talk comfortably with you.”
There was a pause before he peered up to find Hyukjae fighting a grin. “We… We don’t know a lot about each other, huh,” Hyukjae declared. He gave up trying to keep a straight-face and full-on smiled brighter than the rays of light flowing through the window. “But that’s okay. ‘Cause… ever since I saw you on stage and heard your lyrics… I… I’ve wanted to know more and…” He bit his lip. “I’m glad.”
A flash of shock passed over Tablo’s face, but was replaced quickly with relief. “I’m glad, too. I…” he hesitated, but a sudden resolve overtook him. “Actually, the reason why I didn’t call sooner was because… I was afraid that you didn’t really… want me,” he cleared his throat awkwardly.
Hyukjae gaped at him, nearly spilling his drink as it loosened from his grip. Thankfully, he caught it before it could tip all the way, placing it on the table before he could mishandle it again. “Really!? That-That’s-“ He stopped to think.
With his mouth still hanging open and looking so astonished that Tablo thought he might’ve been going into cardiac arrest, he exclaimed, “That’s not the case at all! I thought… I thought you were the one that didn’t want me, since… it was just one night and… I know you got me invited to the party and everything, but I thought after-Mmmrrrph-“
Tablo had shot up out of his seat, somehow bypassing the small, round table between them in one swift movement, and practically attacked Hyukjae. Their lips were pressed together haphazardly with Tablo’s left hand holding the nape of his neck as the other found its way to his back, his knee resting between Hyukjae’s thighs. Somehow, Hyukjae’s arms found their rest on Tablo’s shoulders, his hands in his hair.
Hyukjae let out a moan that snapped Tablo back to reality, and he grudgingly reminded himself that they were in public. Slowly, slowly, he pulled away and the younger seemed make a quiet noise of protest.
Luckily, they were in the corner way in the back, away from the crowd up front, but there were still a few bewildered stares in their direction. Though Tablo couldn’t give a flying shit what they were thinking, being an exhibitionist wasn’t exactly on the top of his to-do list. He reluctantly backed away, trying to catch his breath, but moved to sit next to Hyukjae.
“I want you,” he breathed simply. “No doubt about that.”
They both turned to look at each other, holding each other’s gaze before softly laughing together.
Tablo watched as Hyukjae picked up his drink and sipped it. Hyukjae noticed his gaze and his eyes filled with mirth, lips still pursed around his straw and gulping down the liquid, the smooth skin of his throat catching Tablo’s eye.
He attempted to quell the urge to take him home right then. And do things to him.