Indemnity
Archive
Title: Indemnity (hyukaday #20)
Pairing: Tablo/Eunhyuk
Sparkly Beta!: catchmyambition w/ help from rodiy
Length: 1029 words
Rating: PG-13
Genre: backalley!au/punk-crime
Disclaimer: I do not own real people.
Summary: Continuation of Reconnaissance.
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).
Hyukaday #20
A tall man with a protruding stomach and a hearty laugh stood triumphantly at his desk, glinting eyes marveling at the front page of the newest edition of the Sentinel.
“What a scoop! And we got it before all the other prints. You keep at it with stories like this and you’ll make it big, son,” the chief editor said, still admiring the page and throwing his arm casually around Tablo’s shoulders. He liked doing that. Tablo assumed it was some deluded gesture of intimacy.
He smoothly replied, “I’m already on the trail of another hot issue. Drug cartel.”
“Another one? Wasn’t the head caught already?”
“No, not the head. Just a part.”
The chief grunted, slowly moving around the paper-strewn desk to creak into his office chair, “You’d think that’d be enough to chase those crooks off with their tails between their legs.”
“Cut off the arm of a monster, rest of the body still lives. Sources say that the other arm is next,” Tablo said casually, one hand in his pocket and the other holding a briefcase filled with the documentation that corroborated his words.
“As long as they keep generating news like this, it’s fine by me. Nice work, son,” the chief smiled.
Tablo knew that smile. It was the one that said, Keep the money coming and I won’t fire your ass for disrespecting me all the fucking time.
He walked out of there wordlessly with the same mirthless expression he walked in with. His story got front page like it deserved, but it wasn’t over yet. Far from it. With two of the country’s most powerful gangs still in business together, the biggest story had yet to come.
The sun was nigh on noon. He opened the exit to bright and clear skies, a contrast to the dim and unfeeling streets below it. The streets that were busied with company suits, men under the stranglehold of neckties, arguing on cell phones and rushing to jobs they hated, and office workers trying to squeeze in that lunch break so cherished. Interns, of younger, fresher stock, were ducking around them, being paid (if they were lucky) to go on food runs for executives that had no time for lunch.
It was the common scenery of daytime on the good side of the city, the industrial area, teeming with upstanding and hard working citizens-excepting the young boy, hair a prominent new shade of red, lounging on the edge of the excessively wide curb. He was talking on the phone, sitting with his legs spread wide eagle on the street while leaning back casually on one arm.
Tablo stopped in his tracks at the sight so incongruous with its surroundings.
What’s he doing here? For a moment, a panicked thought of betrayal crossed his mind, but he knew better.
Tablo moved to the edge of the walk, a few meters down from the boy, as if waiting for a taxi and subtly casted a glance towards him.
That caught the boy’s notice, as he smiled with his mouth open in surprise, but quickly concealed it into a knowing smirk. He spoke a few rushed words into his phone before snapping it shut. Standing up with a grunt of effort, he extended his arms up and exaggeratedly massaged his neck with a yawn, stretching his neck in a semi-discreet instruction to follow.
This kid… Always putting on a display even when he didn’t need to, or more like shouldn’t. But he indulged him anyway and tailed him three blocks up, all the way to a well-hidden passageway between the curves of a newly constructed office annex.
“Hyukkie-ah, what are you up to?” Tablo asked, slightly perplexed when all Eunhyuk did was turn around, his randomly dispersed chains clinking recklessly together, and smiled in silent laughter.
“Nothing, hyung,” he replied, thumbs carelessly hanging off his jean pockets. “Just finished up some jobs.”
Jobs. A string of possible tasks with which Eunhyuk could have been delegated flew through Tablo’s mind and he tensed. None of my business, he reminded himself.
“Does Leeteuk know you’re slacking?” he asked lightly. “What’d you call me over for?”
“Just to say hi.”
Tablo’s eye twitched. Cocky bastard. “It’s dangerous, you know.”
“Teukie-hyung knows I’m here.”
“So there is something,” he prompted, posture rigid.
Eunhyuk’s lips settled into a comfortable grin. “There’s been more attention focused on the remaining ally since the raid. Talk goin’ ‘round says the more secure ties with them are, the easier it’ll be for shipments to go on the streets.”
“Will it still be safe for you?” Tablo asked, a placid grimace setting on his face. The question came out before he even had a chance to think, but Eunhyuk answered swiftly.
“It’s never safe, hyung.” He gave him another smile, softer this time. “But if it means that I can keep doin’ what I do… I’m gonna stay.”
Tablo couldn’t argue with that.
"This is more than just a job to me. It's my life's one good deed! To be the one that helps put away the bad guy rather than be the one put away,” Eunhyuk had once cried, in the same tone he had when Tablo had first found him lying on a street corner, bleeding from his arm and pleading for Tablo not to leave.
He had been tired of digging for the painful, ugly secrets of the underground. The chase had lost its thrill. Journalism just didn’t feel right anymore, not when he could be safely writing mindless entertainment pieces. But just as he was about to cast off the last remains of his investigative career away, that was when Eunhyuk had implored him, crying, shouting, desperately, endlessly to not give it up. These criminals had to be brought down, and Tablo would be one significant factor towards that goal.
What would he do otherwise? Waste away negotiating payments for worthless tabloid gossip? No, he was better than that, Eunhyuk had shouted. He would be a part of something greater. Something better.
Tablo had submitted then, and he would give in now.
The biggest story had yet to come and this was his part in it.
So FML I can't believe I continued this. :| But will lead to me writing non-Blohyuk, so YES. FINALLY D:
Fun BTS-
The title that never was: Indemnity, OR MOAR Blohyuk ninja!UST.
Or alternatively: Indemnity, OR WHY HAVE YOU NOT SMEXED YET!? THIS IS FRUSTRATING.
Trufax :|
Title: Indemnity (hyukaday #20)
Pairing: Tablo/Eunhyuk
Sparkly Beta!: catchmyambition w/ help from rodiy
Length: 1029 words
Rating: PG-13
Genre: backalley!au/punk-crime
Disclaimer: I do not own real people.
Summary: Continuation of Reconnaissance.
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).
Hyukaday #20
A tall man with a protruding stomach and a hearty laugh stood triumphantly at his desk, glinting eyes marveling at the front page of the newest edition of the Sentinel.
“What a scoop! And we got it before all the other prints. You keep at it with stories like this and you’ll make it big, son,” the chief editor said, still admiring the page and throwing his arm casually around Tablo’s shoulders. He liked doing that. Tablo assumed it was some deluded gesture of intimacy.
He smoothly replied, “I’m already on the trail of another hot issue. Drug cartel.”
“Another one? Wasn’t the head caught already?”
“No, not the head. Just a part.”
The chief grunted, slowly moving around the paper-strewn desk to creak into his office chair, “You’d think that’d be enough to chase those crooks off with their tails between their legs.”
“Cut off the arm of a monster, rest of the body still lives. Sources say that the other arm is next,” Tablo said casually, one hand in his pocket and the other holding a briefcase filled with the documentation that corroborated his words.
“As long as they keep generating news like this, it’s fine by me. Nice work, son,” the chief smiled.
Tablo knew that smile. It was the one that said, Keep the money coming and I won’t fire your ass for disrespecting me all the fucking time.
He walked out of there wordlessly with the same mirthless expression he walked in with. His story got front page like it deserved, but it wasn’t over yet. Far from it. With two of the country’s most powerful gangs still in business together, the biggest story had yet to come.
The sun was nigh on noon. He opened the exit to bright and clear skies, a contrast to the dim and unfeeling streets below it. The streets that were busied with company suits, men under the stranglehold of neckties, arguing on cell phones and rushing to jobs they hated, and office workers trying to squeeze in that lunch break so cherished. Interns, of younger, fresher stock, were ducking around them, being paid (if they were lucky) to go on food runs for executives that had no time for lunch.
It was the common scenery of daytime on the good side of the city, the industrial area, teeming with upstanding and hard working citizens-excepting the young boy, hair a prominent new shade of red, lounging on the edge of the excessively wide curb. He was talking on the phone, sitting with his legs spread wide eagle on the street while leaning back casually on one arm.
Tablo stopped in his tracks at the sight so incongruous with its surroundings.
What’s he doing here? For a moment, a panicked thought of betrayal crossed his mind, but he knew better.
Tablo moved to the edge of the walk, a few meters down from the boy, as if waiting for a taxi and subtly casted a glance towards him.
That caught the boy’s notice, as he smiled with his mouth open in surprise, but quickly concealed it into a knowing smirk. He spoke a few rushed words into his phone before snapping it shut. Standing up with a grunt of effort, he extended his arms up and exaggeratedly massaged his neck with a yawn, stretching his neck in a semi-discreet instruction to follow.
This kid… Always putting on a display even when he didn’t need to, or more like shouldn’t. But he indulged him anyway and tailed him three blocks up, all the way to a well-hidden passageway between the curves of a newly constructed office annex.
“Hyukkie-ah, what are you up to?” Tablo asked, slightly perplexed when all Eunhyuk did was turn around, his randomly dispersed chains clinking recklessly together, and smiled in silent laughter.
“Nothing, hyung,” he replied, thumbs carelessly hanging off his jean pockets. “Just finished up some jobs.”
Jobs. A string of possible tasks with which Eunhyuk could have been delegated flew through Tablo’s mind and he tensed. None of my business, he reminded himself.
“Does Leeteuk know you’re slacking?” he asked lightly. “What’d you call me over for?”
“Just to say hi.”
Tablo’s eye twitched. Cocky bastard. “It’s dangerous, you know.”
“Teukie-hyung knows I’m here.”
“So there is something,” he prompted, posture rigid.
Eunhyuk’s lips settled into a comfortable grin. “There’s been more attention focused on the remaining ally since the raid. Talk goin’ ‘round says the more secure ties with them are, the easier it’ll be for shipments to go on the streets.”
“Will it still be safe for you?” Tablo asked, a placid grimace setting on his face. The question came out before he even had a chance to think, but Eunhyuk answered swiftly.
“It’s never safe, hyung.” He gave him another smile, softer this time. “But if it means that I can keep doin’ what I do… I’m gonna stay.”
Tablo couldn’t argue with that.
"This is more than just a job to me. It's my life's one good deed! To be the one that helps put away the bad guy rather than be the one put away,” Eunhyuk had once cried, in the same tone he had when Tablo had first found him lying on a street corner, bleeding from his arm and pleading for Tablo not to leave.
He had been tired of digging for the painful, ugly secrets of the underground. The chase had lost its thrill. Journalism just didn’t feel right anymore, not when he could be safely writing mindless entertainment pieces. But just as he was about to cast off the last remains of his investigative career away, that was when Eunhyuk had implored him, crying, shouting, desperately, endlessly to not give it up. These criminals had to be brought down, and Tablo would be one significant factor towards that goal.
What would he do otherwise? Waste away negotiating payments for worthless tabloid gossip? No, he was better than that, Eunhyuk had shouted. He would be a part of something greater. Something better.
Tablo had submitted then, and he would give in now.
The biggest story had yet to come and this was his part in it.
So FML I can't believe I continued this. :| But will lead to me writing non-Blohyuk, so YES. FINALLY D:
Fun BTS-
The title that never was: Indemnity, OR MOAR Blohyuk ninja!UST.
Or alternatively: Indemnity, OR WHY HAVE YOU NOT SMEXED YET!? THIS IS FRUSTRATING.
Trufax :|