Coley-Merrin
Pairing: Tablo/Eunhyuk (Blohyuk)
Summary: Special debut with a favorite artist brings surprising results.
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Hyukjae found that he was cool with the idea, ultimately. It had come as a surprise to him, though almost all decisions made by management surprised him in one way or another. At least it wasn't one of the surprises that had him laying on his bed and feeling sick. He hated those times.
Instead he sat with words floating around his head. Words like "special guest artist" and "extra track" and "special stages." He hadn't even officially debuted with his company yet, but he had trained so long. Waiting for his chance, his shot. And to do so with an artist he had followed for years? Made it all the much sweeter.
But that he would be invited to a studio he had never been to, to collaborate on a track? Collaborate. Part of the process. A contributor. An important piece of it. Writing words on paper, watching Tablo's eyes as he analyzed. Hearing the music, finding the rhythm. Doing his best, and hoping his best was good enough when sitting in front of someone he admired, looked up to, aspired in some way to be.
It helped when he showed up and was let in that he found Tablo asleep with his head on the table, face buried in some ancient baseball cap. That wasn't something to be afraid of, really. If he ignored the part of him that wanted to laugh like a loon and run away and get himself together again. Maybe he was younger, but that didn't mean that he was less. Maybe he had dreams where Tablo told him he was the best thing he'd ever seen and with some song, they could work together, like some kind of long lost brain twins. Everyone else would love him, he could be...
They were all strange dreams, really. None he took seriously or let grow past low level daydreams when he was bored and listening to someone snore as he got his hair done. None of the half remembered dreams, either, that made his stomach tremble when he woke, that he pushed aside. Darkly lined eyes close to his, dark words, too. Fingers drumming the rhyme against skin, and wet. Those were not daydreams; they were insanity. It didn't keep him from seeing those amused eyes flickering up at him. It was only ever his own skin he felt waking up from it.
Probably best that way.
***
The song was turning out well, he thought. Their recording had been done, and he sat at Tablo's side while they worked through some of the issues. Staring at his hands, his throat. He was glad there was rarely extra people around to see. And even when they were forced to record a little more, he didn't mind. Listening to the music through the headsets, the accomplishment of the cleaned-up tracks.
He glanced up where Tablo had propped himself on a stool in the recording room, getting a smile.
"Have you thought any about how you'd choreograph it? I'd like to see."
He could feel Tablo's eyes on him, and he didn't know if that made it easier or harder to do. The sensation of the cloth between his fingers, the ripple of his body. Every muscle in tune and under his control. He couldn't look, or he'd distract himself, and things would be harder in a totally different way. it was a demonstration, nothing else. Maybe a little more. Maybe he threw a little extra in, but he couldn't help himself. Finally coming to a halt.
His face burned as he heard Tablo speak into the microphone. "I think we're done here. Thanks everyone, you can pack up."
Tablo sending everyone home. The empty building was pleasant. It was also distracting. Not that he was going to do anything,but what was there to keep them in check, potentially? Besides the part where Tablo probably had no interest in him.
Everyone being the two people who probably hadn't been paying any attention to them anyway. He hoped. Tablo's hand was tight where it gripped the stool between his legs, and he cursed himself that he looked. That it was easier to look there than at Tablo's face.
"I bet the girls will scream when you do that," Tablo said, all but shoving their papers into his hands. "You must've practiced a lot."
"Anyone could, with practice," he mumbled, straightening the papers as he heard the outer door slam closed. Silent. He closed his eyes a moment.
Tablo laughed, and he crumbled at what that voice did to him. "No, not anyone."
The small studio room was empty when they got to it, and Tablo's hand clapping his shoulder, partly on the bare skin of his neck, sent a firestorm of tingles all the way down his spine. And the voice that spoke too near his ear for comfort had him holding his breath.
"Do you want just anyone?" Tablo asked.
"What?"
Their noses nearly brushed, and he wasn't sure what to do. Breathe? Not breathe? The problem was, Tablo's mouth was right there, and he was reaching for a hold on Tablo's shirt before common sense even started creeping into him.
"Tell me you don't want this, and we can walk away," Tablo said, all teasing gone from his voice. "It's not going to affect the work or the song. Having you here, it's been kind of hard to pretend I'm not attracted to you."
He swallowed hard. "I think—"
He wanted to throw himself onto the floor in embarrassment because of having to respond. The suave inner part of himself imagined him saying, hey, yeah, wanna make out? and having that actually come out sexy and not idiotic. Unless Tablo was jerking his chain, in which case he'd need more than faceplanting to exist among humans ever again.
But when he looked up, thinking he'd make some half-hearted joke, just in case. But Tablo wasn't looking at him, so much as he was at Hyukjae's lips. Like he wanted something.
He thought his sanity left him entirely, darting forward to press his mouth to Tablo's, and jerking back with knees that were made of jello.
And Tablo, what he could see of Tablo's face while avoiding his eyes, seemed stunned. And...pleased?
"Finally," Tablo said, and the sound of it was so smooth and satisfied that he realized he'd actually done the right thing.
His knees actually held him, which was surprising given the fact that he thought he'd have been shaking. But Tablo didn't give an inch, grabbing Hyukjae's waist in both hands. Almost even, like that. He didn't even want to breathe, drawn by Tablo's hands almost without thought. Shuddering as they moved, Tablo's nose brushing his neck. Warmth leaving his sides, and guiding him. Fingers at the clasp of his pants, and teeth against the back of his neck, and he took an extra step to steady himself.
He saw his own reflection in the glass that separated the room they recorded in from the controls. Everyone had gone, everyone. But he wasn't alone, Tablo's face somehow hazy beside his. He could feel his breath faintly on his jaw, and his hand made a squeak when he lifted it to steady himself beside his reflection. He made some kind of sound that didn't even seem like it had come from him, but anyone would've. Anyone, if they'd had Tablo's hand sliding into their underwear like he did.
"Relax, no one else is here," he heard, the light voice sending chills down his back.
He wished the glass would give, so he could curl his fingers in something substantial, wanting to break through it just to have something to hold. He didn't even realize he was biting his lip to silence himself until he caught another glimpse as he felt Tablo nudging his underwear down his hips. The slide of his pants, his underwear, onto his thighs. And his shirt wasn't long enough to shield him from the obvious jut of Tablo's still-clothed erection against his ass.
"You breathing?" Tablo asked, pinching at the tendon that ran between groin and thigh. Nudging at his hips so that Tablo's hand molded to him fully with every sway of their bodies. His mouth popped open in shock, and Tablo laughed, kissing the skin beside the strap of his tank top. "Not quite as good as a mirror, but your face shows everything."
No, he didn't think it did, he thought wildly. There wasn't any expression on earth that could convey the fireworks, the rushing heat, the singing nerves, in his body as one of Tablo's hands teased his trembling stomach, while the other teased him erect. So turned on, he actually felt his nipples scrape against the cloth of his shirt. Gasping as his knees knocked, hand wet against the glass.
He moaned at Tablo's tongue against his neck. "Nng. Why?"
Tablo breathed against his moistened skin. "Why what? You want more?"
More. More everything.
His pants clanked loudly on the floor, buckle hitting just right, just enough to scare him into thinking they had an audience. He figured Tablo would've laughed, but he was too busy pushing down his own pants and their underwear. The brush of bare knees against the back of his.
He never would've thought that would turn him on.
His system was in an uproar as Tablo led him out, to the couch he'd been slouched on more than once. His pants got left behind, or he'd have tripped, and that was so far so unsexy to him. Tablo reeled him in, the open-mouthed kiss hot and brain-destroying. Panting, as he was pushed down, and denied the ability to cover his crotch as Tablo...got on his knees? He huffed and stared, and dug furrows into his own skin.
Oh, blowjob, he thought as Tablo kissed his stomach. Oh yes. Yes, yes. Just a little bit that way, and. But Tablo didn't stay there, at his collar bones before he could think. Okay. Not blowjob. A little jerking off together, some rubbing. Anything, he thought, bumping his hips up as he felt Tablo's fingertips skimming his thigh. Anything to stop the ache and bring some relief. Maybe after, they could do it again, once he felt less consumed by the need to come.
"You okay?" Tablo breathed. "You want this?"
"Yeah?" he responded, confused by the question. Of course he wanted it.
And he thought of the lube.
And in the haze of Tablo sucking at his jaw, he realized that no, he wasn't getting blowjob. Or a handjob.
They were actually going to have sex. Tablo. In him, on the couch, sweaty, half naked. Fuck. Fucking. Them. Together. He tilted his head to the side, trying to see between their bodies and reassess the physical possibilities of all of it.
And he almost cut everything short as Tablo snorted into his ear, sounding amused and tickling him at the same time with the action.
"Yeah, it'll fit. Don't worry."
His skin almost prickled with heat, and if it had been a friend, the friend probably would have gotten punched. In Tablo's case, it probably would've ended up being a knee. A really painful one.
But it was hard to be angry when a slick thumb and forefinger ringed his cock and and pulled.
And it was a strange sensation. Like Tablo was trying to pull him away from his body. Knowing there'd be something going in.
But he had something else to contend with. With every tug of Tablo's hand, a tongue was plunged into his mouth. Did he meet it? Avoid it? Try and do the same?
"I love your mouth," Tablo muttered, kissing him again. "You keep biting your lips, touching them. Couldn't figure out if I wanted to kiss them till we're raw or plant your face in my lap."
All the blood drained from his head at the thought of Tablo moaning for him. So caught in the fantasy that his mouth bowed open. Licking his lips like he was waiting for something. Stretching his mouth around...
Around Tablo's fingers. Sucking at them, lathing them. Moaning around them. Tablo's fingers were wet with his own pre-come. He could have died.
"Yeah," Tablo breathed. "Like that."
How many people had Tablo had on the futon like this? Making them writhe. He couldn't think of it, touching himself as Tablo steadied him. Fingers slick with something else. The lube he'd found. Oh and he wanted to be suave about it, too, and just let Tablo's fingers just merge into his body, but he shook like a braking train. Body resisting for just a second too long. He didn't want Tablo to think he didn't want it. And his body bowed in offering. Needing just a little more. A little more lube, a little more give.
He hissed as Tablo's fingers pressed up into him. Not in pain, or weirdness, but because the spark that action sent through him was too hot. He couldn't even remember how to jerk himself, grasping at the fabric beneath him and trying not to howl. Staying loose wasn't a problem any more. Trying not to lose his sanity was the new one.
He gnawed at his lip as Tablo got an arm behind his hips. Almost made himself laugh when he remembered Tablo's words. It'd fit. He imagined it as feeling like the sear of menthol on skin. Not pain, but sensation. It was impossible not to feel it, not to wonder what to do in response to it, and when Tablo withdrew, not to need it. Did it feel the same the second time, as Tablo added more lubrication. Not quite. They rocked together, tentative, at first barely moving. His thighs just gave at the first sliding thrust, like he'd been shot, feeling his body give, and his throat rumble. Tablo was right. They fit. Like some irresistible itch. They adjusted, Tablo trusting he could hold himself up, curling over Hyukjae's body, close enough to kiss.
They panted into each other, and he sucked at Tablo's lips, on some autopilot haze of sensation, his whole body moving, vibrating with the steady rocking they did together. One of his hands buried in Tablo's hair, kneading at his scalp as their mouths slid together, wet. Tablo panting his name. Watching Tablo's face when he could get his eyes to focus, and seeing it spring sly with pride as Tablo's hand worked between them. Not relying on the slide of their skin any longer to arouse him, but jerking quick and tight on his cock, not counterpoint but in rhythm to the new tempo Tablo had set. The wet slap of their bodies together, the sound and feel of Tablo's fist, Tablo's unconsciously uttered grunts.
When he came, it was almost unexpected. The rise so steep that one second he felt they could go forever, and the next he was convulsing, thrusting into Tablo's hand, onto Tablo's cock, coming over his stomach as his head thrashed. Gasping, reeling still, as Tablo came inside him.
"Okay, okay, okay," he babbled, hand grasping convulsively on Tablo's shoulder. He felt Tablo's body jerk every so often, coming down from the high. Warm breath against his cooling skin.
"Fuck," Tablo muttered into his shoulder. "Should've done that days ago."
He swallowed hard, suddenly having no idea what to do with his hands. "Oh?"
"Jerking off and thinking of you clearly doesn't have quite the same appeal. Did I scar you for life? Sounded like it was good for you."
He laughed helplessly, feeling the stiffness in his legs, and the languor spreading through his body. "I think... We'd have to test it again."
Tablo smiled against his neck. "Best plan I've heard all day."
***
The song wasn't the best hit ever, but it did pretty well. They got accolades where they wanted them, and most importantly were pleased about it themselves. Of course, it helped that he couldn't really listen to the song without remembering Tablo on top of him. But between writing sessions, and dates, and generally being lazy, he kind of let it fade. And it wasn't that semi-public sex, or sex on couches, was bad or anything. He was pretty sure it had been the best thing that had happened to him in a long time.
It was just that sex on an actual bed - and Tablo had a nice one - was so much better.
-fin-
