Super Junior, Epik High; Blohyuk; Oh Baby, Don't You Know?
Title: Oh Baby, Don’t You Know?
Fandom: Super Junior, Epik High
Pairing: Tablo/Eunhyuk
Word count: 1,723
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Watching from far away, you know I do, I love you.
A/N: I don’t know what this is. I don’t know what made me think this was a good idea, considering I don’t even have any sort of understanding of Tablo’s character. Well. I do. Sort of. It’s just that they’re cute and look so similar and sound so similar, and actually, that makes this pairing slightly weird. Whatever. This is what happens when you read a couple of fics and then watch YouTube videos - you end up writing pairings that you never would normally. I guess I’m also trying to expand what I write about.
I’m still procrastinating against writing something with an actual plot D: ASLO BLOHYUK HOW CAN I NOT WRITE SOMETHING WITH SUCH A GREAT SHIP NAME?
There is something about the younger man that sends Tablo off-kilter - it’s like he can never quite manage to be calm and sophisticated in front of him. It’s like he’s playing a game of cards, and just before it comes for him to lay his winning hand down, just before his moment of glory, something knocks his hands so that when it comes for him to show how fantastic he is, he’s actually scrambling around on the floor underneath everyone’s legs, trying to pick up his cards.
Eunhyuk is - well. Tablo doesn’t know how to describe Eunhyuk. This is probably because Eunhyuk is a little bit of everything. It’s hard to be around him because Eunhyuk has a smile that makes Tablo want to smile back at him; it’s hard to remain looking mature when he’s grinning like a moron, like he does every time Eunhyuk smiles at him, and Eunhyuk smiles at him every time they meet. It’s starting to get worrying.
It’s worrying because sometime soon someone is going to notice it, notice the way he can’t stop touching him and hugging him and smiling at him, like a teenager with a crush on someone for the first time. He’s fairly certain that Heechul and Mithra already know (or Heechul’s noticed and told Mithra, because Heechul knows everything), but it’s easy to ignore their knowing looks when he’s laughing with Eunhyuk over something, locked away together in a corner, able to be a complete failure and say anything because Eunhyuk will find it funny anyway.
Eunhyuk looks up to him, as a hyung and as a musician, and that always causes Tablo’s chest to feel slightly too small, warm and tight. Eunhyuk is talented on his own anyway, and Tablo feels a strange pride at that, even though it’s got nothing to do with him. The only thing that he’s ever done is give him some advice on lyric writing - he thanked him so sincerely and earnestly that it slid over “crush” and hit something slightly more serious - but Eunhyuk comes to him sometimes with songs that he’s writing and asks what he thinks of them, and they’re good, and they’re just getting better.
Sometimes Tablo writes when he’s talking to Eunhyuk, scraps of nearby paper, scrawled over with lyrics and doodles, disconnected words that make no sense when he looks at them later. Most he throws in the bin; sometimes he flattens them out from where they’ve been crumpled up in his pocket, smoothing them out as he places them in his notebook, hoping that someday they’ll make sense, that he’ll be able to regain that feeling of that moment and work out what he meant by teeth, fingers, you’re the water that drips onto my skin and worlds dance around each other, arms brush and spin away.
He’s like a teenager with this, and so when Eunhyuk seeks him out one day and asks him quietly if he could help with something that he was working on, his mouth agrees before his brain can process the question. “Anything,” he says. “Anything you like.” And he grins at him, and Eunhyuk flushes happily - or is it blushing, Tablo can’t work it out, viewing everything that the boy does through rose-coloured goggles that make any motion so much more than it is - and so Tablo finds himself in Eunhyuk’s bedroom that night, sitting next to him on a desk chair that they’ve stolen from another room because Eunhyuk only had the one. Their arms touch as he reads over the lyrics to a song that Eunhyuk has been working on.
“I want to perform it at our Super Show,” explains Eunhyuk, face so hopeful that Tablo finds it hard to concentrate on the writing in front of him. “I’m hoping that it will be finished by then.”
If he hadn’t said otherwise, Tablo would have thought that the song was already finished - the only thing that he is able to help with is a slight tweaking of the English, but he doubts that that is what Eunhyuk wants him to help with. The song is perfect. There is nothing that he can do with it. There is nothing that he wants to do with it. It is Eunhyuk’s song, his creation, and Tablo doesn’t want to taint that by changing anything, by helping him write anything.
“It’s perfect,” he says. “You don’t need me.”
He laughs. It’s a joke. He means with regards the song but the words make his heart ache for a moment, thinking that perhaps his words of humour are too close to how he really feels for comfort. Eunhyuk suddenly goes serious.
“No,” he says, a little desperately. “I do need your help, hyungnim. Really, I need your help with this.”
“No you don’t,” says Tablo. “It’s a fantastic song; I don’t want to ruin it for you.”
Eunhyuk is silent. It feels very suddenly very awkward, and Tablo is suddenly very aware of Eunhyuk’s arm still pressed against his, a strange sort of warmth spreading through his body, warmth that he associates with his late teens and childish crushes. He becomes even more suddenly very aware of the drawn blinds, the lights dimmed for fear of waking the other members, the way the warmth has stopped radiating from his arm and is now centered in his lower stomach. He draws away slightly, and the movement causes Eunhyuk to look up at him.
He tries to tell himself that Eunhyuk is not that much younger than him, but he doubts that age is the problem here so much as the level of innocence and naivety; not that he thinks that Eunhyuk is completely innocent and ignorant, not judging from what he’s heard from fellow members. The problem is that Eunhyuk wears his heart on his sleeve, he can be read so easily, and he trusts so easily that Tablo feels as though he’s betraying him by feeling like he does. Would he laugh at his (bad) jokes as freely, come to him with little pieces of his heart written down on paper so willingly, if he knew that he was now the permanent focus of Tablo’s fantasies?
“The English,” he says, trying to come up with something simple to help him with, something that won’t affect the song by changing the penmanship, because Eunhyuk looks so disappointed that he feels like he has to say something. “I can help you with the English.”
Eunhyuk brightens up at that. Tablo re-reads the lyrics that he has, and notes something for the first time. “This,” he says and stops; tries to work out what he wants to say. “Is this based on personal experience?” As he asks a rush of understanding tinged with annoyance races through him: understanding because he knows what it’s like to feel like that about someone, annoyance that Eunhyuk has ever had to go through that (annoyance that Eunhyuk has already had that, jealousy that is easy to ignore, irrational and stupid).
“Write what you know,” says Eunhyuk, and there is a tense moment before he laughs. “No,” he says. “I made it up - I just thought up the scenario and tried to work out what I would feel at that time.”
A rush of relief, just as irrational. He laughs - Eunhyuk has listened to his advice, taken what he has said into account. “This,” he says. “The grammar’s a bit-”
Eunhyuk kisses him.
It’s bad, because Eunhyuk is inexperienced at this. His head isn’t tipped to the side enough, so their noses are pressed side to side, so it is more of an awkward smush of lips than a kiss; his hands remain at his side; his lips are motionless; he pulls away after a couple of seconds with a confused expression on his face, and Tablo just stares at him. His first instinct is to correct Eunhyuk’s technique, and so he puts his hand on his cheek softly, pulls him forward, tips his head to the side and kisses him again.
It’s when Eunhyuk moans that Tablo realises what he’s doing, that he’s pulled him practically into his lap, and is sucking on his bottom lip. He pushes him away frantically. Eunhyuk slumps back in his chair, staring at him a little on shock, hair ruffled at the base of his jaw where Tablo’s fingers had run through it, lips swollen. Tablo pushes a hand through his own hair.
“Sorry,” he says breathlessly, “sorry, I’m - I didn’t mean to-”
Eunhyuk tries to kiss him again, fingers curling around the collar of his shirt and Tablo stops him with his hands on his shoulders. “What are you doing?” he asks, though the answer is obvious, and the look Eunhyuk gives him suggests that he knows that Tablo knows the answer.
“I like you, hyungnim,” he says, and he is blushing now, there is nothing else that the red-pink over his cheeks could be. Tablo groans. “I like you, and I thought you liked me too.”
“I do like you,” says Tablo before he can stop himself. Eunhyuk’s smile is nothing sort of fantastic. “That’s the problem. You’re so much-”
“Younger than you?” Eunhyuk laughs at his shocked expression at the fact that he knows what he was going to say. “Only six years, hyungnim, that’s barely anything really.”
“You’re-” Tablo falters, and stands up in lieu of answering, and then Eunhyuk is kissing him, and it’s right this time, without the awkwardness of the first kiss and the uncertainty of no knowing; this is the Eunhyuk that Tablo has watched in performances, confident and in control, owning the action as he pulls Tablo forward so that he falls on top of him on the bed. He knows what he’s doing with his hands and knows what he’s doing with his mouth, and for a moment Tablo wonders if maybe he was just acting earlier when he kissed him like it was the first time he’d ever tried it, but then Eunhyuk does have that ability to quickly get over setbacks, to learn quickly.
“You know, I do,” sings Eunhyuk against his lips, fingers brushing across Tablo’s stomach in smooth movements that makes all those lyrics that never made any sense suddenly turn on their head and present themselves in a sudden blast of understanding. “사랑해요.”
Fandom: Super Junior, Epik High
Pairing: Tablo/Eunhyuk
Word count: 1,723
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Watching from far away, you know I do, I love you.
A/N: I don’t know what this is. I don’t know what made me think this was a good idea, considering I don’t even have any sort of understanding of Tablo’s character. Well. I do. Sort of. It’s just that they’re cute and look so similar and sound so similar, and actually, that makes this pairing slightly weird. Whatever. This is what happens when you read a couple of fics and then watch YouTube videos - you end up writing pairings that you never would normally. I guess I’m also trying to expand what I write about.
I’m still procrastinating against writing something with an actual plot D: ASLO BLOHYUK HOW CAN I NOT WRITE SOMETHING WITH SUCH A GREAT SHIP NAME?
There is something about the younger man that sends Tablo off-kilter - it’s like he can never quite manage to be calm and sophisticated in front of him. It’s like he’s playing a game of cards, and just before it comes for him to lay his winning hand down, just before his moment of glory, something knocks his hands so that when it comes for him to show how fantastic he is, he’s actually scrambling around on the floor underneath everyone’s legs, trying to pick up his cards.
Eunhyuk is - well. Tablo doesn’t know how to describe Eunhyuk. This is probably because Eunhyuk is a little bit of everything. It’s hard to be around him because Eunhyuk has a smile that makes Tablo want to smile back at him; it’s hard to remain looking mature when he’s grinning like a moron, like he does every time Eunhyuk smiles at him, and Eunhyuk smiles at him every time they meet. It’s starting to get worrying.
It’s worrying because sometime soon someone is going to notice it, notice the way he can’t stop touching him and hugging him and smiling at him, like a teenager with a crush on someone for the first time. He’s fairly certain that Heechul and Mithra already know (or Heechul’s noticed and told Mithra, because Heechul knows everything), but it’s easy to ignore their knowing looks when he’s laughing with Eunhyuk over something, locked away together in a corner, able to be a complete failure and say anything because Eunhyuk will find it funny anyway.
Eunhyuk looks up to him, as a hyung and as a musician, and that always causes Tablo’s chest to feel slightly too small, warm and tight. Eunhyuk is talented on his own anyway, and Tablo feels a strange pride at that, even though it’s got nothing to do with him. The only thing that he’s ever done is give him some advice on lyric writing - he thanked him so sincerely and earnestly that it slid over “crush” and hit something slightly more serious - but Eunhyuk comes to him sometimes with songs that he’s writing and asks what he thinks of them, and they’re good, and they’re just getting better.
Sometimes Tablo writes when he’s talking to Eunhyuk, scraps of nearby paper, scrawled over with lyrics and doodles, disconnected words that make no sense when he looks at them later. Most he throws in the bin; sometimes he flattens them out from where they’ve been crumpled up in his pocket, smoothing them out as he places them in his notebook, hoping that someday they’ll make sense, that he’ll be able to regain that feeling of that moment and work out what he meant by teeth, fingers, you’re the water that drips onto my skin and worlds dance around each other, arms brush and spin away.
He’s like a teenager with this, and so when Eunhyuk seeks him out one day and asks him quietly if he could help with something that he was working on, his mouth agrees before his brain can process the question. “Anything,” he says. “Anything you like.” And he grins at him, and Eunhyuk flushes happily - or is it blushing, Tablo can’t work it out, viewing everything that the boy does through rose-coloured goggles that make any motion so much more than it is - and so Tablo finds himself in Eunhyuk’s bedroom that night, sitting next to him on a desk chair that they’ve stolen from another room because Eunhyuk only had the one. Their arms touch as he reads over the lyrics to a song that Eunhyuk has been working on.
“I want to perform it at our Super Show,” explains Eunhyuk, face so hopeful that Tablo finds it hard to concentrate on the writing in front of him. “I’m hoping that it will be finished by then.”
If he hadn’t said otherwise, Tablo would have thought that the song was already finished - the only thing that he is able to help with is a slight tweaking of the English, but he doubts that that is what Eunhyuk wants him to help with. The song is perfect. There is nothing that he can do with it. There is nothing that he wants to do with it. It is Eunhyuk’s song, his creation, and Tablo doesn’t want to taint that by changing anything, by helping him write anything.
“It’s perfect,” he says. “You don’t need me.”
He laughs. It’s a joke. He means with regards the song but the words make his heart ache for a moment, thinking that perhaps his words of humour are too close to how he really feels for comfort. Eunhyuk suddenly goes serious.
“No,” he says, a little desperately. “I do need your help, hyungnim. Really, I need your help with this.”
“No you don’t,” says Tablo. “It’s a fantastic song; I don’t want to ruin it for you.”
Eunhyuk is silent. It feels very suddenly very awkward, and Tablo is suddenly very aware of Eunhyuk’s arm still pressed against his, a strange sort of warmth spreading through his body, warmth that he associates with his late teens and childish crushes. He becomes even more suddenly very aware of the drawn blinds, the lights dimmed for fear of waking the other members, the way the warmth has stopped radiating from his arm and is now centered in his lower stomach. He draws away slightly, and the movement causes Eunhyuk to look up at him.
He tries to tell himself that Eunhyuk is not that much younger than him, but he doubts that age is the problem here so much as the level of innocence and naivety; not that he thinks that Eunhyuk is completely innocent and ignorant, not judging from what he’s heard from fellow members. The problem is that Eunhyuk wears his heart on his sleeve, he can be read so easily, and he trusts so easily that Tablo feels as though he’s betraying him by feeling like he does. Would he laugh at his (bad) jokes as freely, come to him with little pieces of his heart written down on paper so willingly, if he knew that he was now the permanent focus of Tablo’s fantasies?
“The English,” he says, trying to come up with something simple to help him with, something that won’t affect the song by changing the penmanship, because Eunhyuk looks so disappointed that he feels like he has to say something. “I can help you with the English.”
Eunhyuk brightens up at that. Tablo re-reads the lyrics that he has, and notes something for the first time. “This,” he says and stops; tries to work out what he wants to say. “Is this based on personal experience?” As he asks a rush of understanding tinged with annoyance races through him: understanding because he knows what it’s like to feel like that about someone, annoyance that Eunhyuk has ever had to go through that (annoyance that Eunhyuk has already had that, jealousy that is easy to ignore, irrational and stupid).
“Write what you know,” says Eunhyuk, and there is a tense moment before he laughs. “No,” he says. “I made it up - I just thought up the scenario and tried to work out what I would feel at that time.”
A rush of relief, just as irrational. He laughs - Eunhyuk has listened to his advice, taken what he has said into account. “This,” he says. “The grammar’s a bit-”
Eunhyuk kisses him.
It’s bad, because Eunhyuk is inexperienced at this. His head isn’t tipped to the side enough, so their noses are pressed side to side, so it is more of an awkward smush of lips than a kiss; his hands remain at his side; his lips are motionless; he pulls away after a couple of seconds with a confused expression on his face, and Tablo just stares at him. His first instinct is to correct Eunhyuk’s technique, and so he puts his hand on his cheek softly, pulls him forward, tips his head to the side and kisses him again.
It’s when Eunhyuk moans that Tablo realises what he’s doing, that he’s pulled him practically into his lap, and is sucking on his bottom lip. He pushes him away frantically. Eunhyuk slumps back in his chair, staring at him a little on shock, hair ruffled at the base of his jaw where Tablo’s fingers had run through it, lips swollen. Tablo pushes a hand through his own hair.
“Sorry,” he says breathlessly, “sorry, I’m - I didn’t mean to-”
Eunhyuk tries to kiss him again, fingers curling around the collar of his shirt and Tablo stops him with his hands on his shoulders. “What are you doing?” he asks, though the answer is obvious, and the look Eunhyuk gives him suggests that he knows that Tablo knows the answer.
“I like you, hyungnim,” he says, and he is blushing now, there is nothing else that the red-pink over his cheeks could be. Tablo groans. “I like you, and I thought you liked me too.”
“I do like you,” says Tablo before he can stop himself. Eunhyuk’s smile is nothing sort of fantastic. “That’s the problem. You’re so much-”
“Younger than you?” Eunhyuk laughs at his shocked expression at the fact that he knows what he was going to say. “Only six years, hyungnim, that’s barely anything really.”
“You’re-” Tablo falters, and stands up in lieu of answering, and then Eunhyuk is kissing him, and it’s right this time, without the awkwardness of the first kiss and the uncertainty of no knowing; this is the Eunhyuk that Tablo has watched in performances, confident and in control, owning the action as he pulls Tablo forward so that he falls on top of him on the bed. He knows what he’s doing with his hands and knows what he’s doing with his mouth, and for a moment Tablo wonders if maybe he was just acting earlier when he kissed him like it was the first time he’d ever tried it, but then Eunhyuk does have that ability to quickly get over setbacks, to learn quickly.
“You know, I do,” sings Eunhyuk against his lips, fingers brushing across Tablo’s stomach in smooth movements that makes all those lyrics that never made any sense suddenly turn on their head and present themselves in a sudden blast of understanding. “사랑해요.”