Wobaozhewo
Pairing: Blohyuk
Summary: A series of four chronological one-shots: How Tablo came to love like Hyukjae.
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1.Sighting
"Pen and paper, this infinite sound I can't ever give up..."
Rays of sun warmed his face as he lay out in the open of the campus' main park – one of those rare moments where Tablo felt like he wasn't the aimless wanderer destined to be forever trapped by his muse - where he felt, for once, like Daniel.
But perhaps 'trapped' was the wrong choice of words. He knew he was addicted to the process of his muse and, as much as it wouldn't let him rest, he loved every feeling it gave him when all was written and done. Something akin to Stockholm's Syndrome must've formed somewhere along the way, Tablo concluded.
"So you haven't been turned into a creature of the night, I see."
He opened his eye a crack and caught sight of fox-like eyes hovering over him.
"I was struck by a word that turned into a phrase that turned into a sentence that turned into the most amazing three days of my life," he murmured, attempting to contain a yawn.
Jeongsik stretched out comfortably parallel to his muse-led friend and pointed out, "Poetic. Tell that to Heenim as the reason you missed his party. Last night."
There was a stomach-turning silence before Tablo turned to him and replied, slowly, "Did... anything happen?"
His slightly sadistic friend smirked, "Threatened to take away our stage privileges. All that shit. You know."
"He likes us too much. I'll just make it up next week," he scoffed, unspoken fears fading to the back of his mind. Tablo looked back up to the sun, his eyes blinded by the white glow.
"Yeah, but we don't want a repeat of last time."
Tablo blinked the spots out of his eyes as his stomach clenched with remembrance and he shuddered. It only happened because Heechul was drunk. So very drunk...
The first few times he missed the party, it resulted in meaningless threats and his bedroom window getting egged. But the last time... oh, the last time, Heechul was drunk off his ass and broke into his apartment, his flaming red hair characteristically wild yet tidy, demanding a damn good excuse for not being present at the "best damned shindig put on since Marie Antoinette's execution," along with a good fucking for stipulation. Tablo hadn't obliged and made the mistake of remarking that executions weren't much of a party.
Heechul was Not Pleased and ended up breaking apart half of Tablo's figurine collection (that took an entire day to line up nicely) and taking down two lamps—all an accident (or probably on purpose)—when he collapsed in an angry drunken heap.
There was also vomit involved.
Shaking away the horrible memory, he sat up on one arm and heaved a sigh. "Come get me next time then."
Jeongsik yawned. "Yeah, yeah... How does a Mithra-pounce sound? Or something equally traumatic..."
The image of a bear mauling a grasshopper came to Tablo's mind.
"No thanks..." he replied sardonically, looking around at the sudden pack of students rushing to get to their next nap.
Vaguely, he remembered what it was like to be them, ambling from one class to another in a sleep-deprived fog—not that he wasn't still in that fog. It was just that now he was graduated, living off top ramen and random gigs with Jeongsik and Jin – or Tukutz and Mithra, on-stage.
So it wasn't that different, but at the least, he didn't have classes to worry about and he had crowds of underground fans he didn't have to run from because they didn't recognize him off stage. Tablo came on campus only as a refuge now, to enjoy the peaceful scenery and bask in the stress of others after endless nights of writing his soul away.
"Sungmin! Sungmin! You took my lunch! I have your pillbugs!"
The outcry called Tablo's attention to an auburn-haired boy (he was too baby-faced to be otherwise) that was rushing over to the benches at the side of the campus main library. He waved a box that looked deceivingly like ordinary Tupperware, when he had suddenly tripped on—it looked like—nothing.
"Gah, Hyukjae, are you oka—OH SHIT, MY EXPERIMENT!" the boy named Sungmin exclaimed as they both scrambled to recapture the little balled-up insects that had escaped their plastic prison.
"Sorrysorrysorrysorrysorry—!"
"AHH, YOU'RE STEPPING ON THEM!"
Jeongsik's laugh pulled his attention back, "Heh, Bio students' hell. Good thing I gave up on that shit."
"Mm, I don't think you're really one to talk, Engineering," Tablo jeered, and covered up a snort before the other's glares could burn a hole through his face.
Thinking back, Tablo wouldn't say that this had been the defining moment for him, since he would only vaguely remember the general gist of things. There really wasn't anything too special about what had happened or what he had seen, but whether he admitted it or not, this was something like the beginning.
2. Hooked
It wasn't until a week after missing the party that Tablo came back on campus, but this time, instead of spreading out under the sun, he lay under one of the many large Oaks splayed across the edge of the park, in the comfortably warm shade. Having had another muse run dry, he was resting outside for the first time in a mere two days.
With half lidded eyes and a content smirk, Tablo watched the gaggle of stressed undergraduates rush past as he leisurely stretched, leaning further into the tree trunk.
Soon, the amount of people dwindled and he settled in for his nap, but as he took his last look around, a boy by the library's benches caught his attention.
It was that clumsy kid from the other day.
He was located at the bench most hidden by hedges, where none of the passersby on the main path could see. Tablo, though, was sitting off the path at an angle where he had a good profile view.
The kid was dancing. He popped a shoulder, an arm, a wrist, twisting his hips before popping his chest, moving into a toprock and dropping for a flare—during which he placed an arm in the wrong position and ended up on his flat on his face.
Through wide eyes, Tablo couldn't laugh. He couldn't even breathe. Though it ended with that one mistake, each move that preceded was done perfectly in a way that only days, maybe weeks or months of continuous practice and repetition could have resulted from.
He watched, mouth slightly ajar, as the dancer (what was his name again?) sat up looking defeated and dispirited, yet still continued working on the move until one look at his watch produced a panicked expression. With one swift shove, all the books that had been on the nearby bench table disappeared and so did that boy.
Tablo blinked at the empty space.
Really, had he never seen someone dance before? What was he so amazed at? Well, he had to admit, he had never seen someone try so hard and prove that old adage of "Practice makes perfect."
He wanted to see more.
3. Adoration
Tablo relaxed under the same tree every day now. As a starving artist, he had that sort of freedom to be wherever his muse led him. These days, she seemed to want him to look around campus for inspiration.
In the form of a dancer, specifically.
However, he would be slightly disappointed when each day, the boy would show up and instead of putting on a show, he'd tiredly drag copious amounts of study material, and drop limply onto the bench.
He was very studious, always poring over some 30-pound text with hard eyes bent on focusing and getting through the laborious task of note taking, usually alone, but sometimes with others. Just classmates, it seemed.
Tablo recognized one of them – Shindong in the pre-pharmacy program, one of Mithra's friends. He occasionally saw him turn up at a party or two, usually doing stand-up or joking around with random groups of people. Tablo wondered for a moment if that meant the kid had been to Heechul's parties and his dancing had escaped Tablo's notice there.
Of course, after finding out that fact, at the cost of four bottles of soju and three servings of samgyupsal, Mithra had a talk with Shindong who revealed that the dancer's name was Lee Hyukjae, a second-year Biology student.
"Oh," Tablo had replied, unintelligently, because there wasn't more to say about that. Heechul was of the opinion that the Biology department students were always too busy to give him a shit and therefore did not deserve to come to his parties (never mind that most students were too busy to give a shit). Heechul really did not like being ignored – for school, no less.
So Hyukjae had never been to the party.
Tablo could fix that.
The kid deserved to flash some of his skills.
Tablo was not fantasizing weird things about Hyukjae dancing to one of his songs. He just wanted to give him the chance to be appreciated. He definitely wasn't thinking about using the opportunity to introduce himself as Tablo, member of that really famous underground hip hop group (on campus). And he was definitely not stalking him.
There was a distinction between curiosity and stalking –Tablo was definitely just curious. He just wanted to be friends and show admiration for his skills and talents.
So Tablo knew that Hyukjae's usual study area was at that bench.
So Tablo happened to be sitting in his usual spot at the tree that happened to be near Hyukjae's usual study area.
So what if the only reason he was even on campus for three weeks straight was to see if Hyukjae would show up, meaning to go up to say hello, but always flaking out at the last second.
Occasionally, Hyukjae would come out looking like the world had knocked him down. It was perhaps slightly sadistic of Tablo to enjoy those days, but he couldn't help it because it was only then that, if Hyukjae thought no one was around, he would dance.
It was no big deal that Tablo's heart raced every time he saw that Hyukjae started dancing, like he was witnessing some deep dark secret hidden from prying eyes rather than an innocent dance (give or take a few pelvic thrusts).
... Shit.
—No, no. This wasn't stalking. A bit pushing it, but we're not in stalker territory yet, he rationalized.
It wasn't like he was following him, or sending threatening letters of adoration. Tablo hadn't even gone up and talked to him. He was probably better off not finding out any details – keep the mystery.
Details would only ruin the image that he had of the dancing machine anyways, if he actually got the chance to talk to him.
It was better to just leave it be.
... The idea left Tablo cold and empty.
4. Invitation
"This... is incredible. Does it have a title?"
"Fan," Tablo answered, spinning around in Jeongsik's desk chair, head thrown back in a restless haze. He'd spent the whole of three hours penning the lyrics and another four to compose, thinking of Hyukjae the entire time, this boy that he's never spoken a word to.
He must be crazy.
Jeongsik, still astonished, leaned back against the wall of his room. "Wow, shoulda guessed."
"Jeongsik-ah," the rapper-lyricist edged out, eyes closed. "I think I have an odd obsession."
"That Bio kid, huh? I figured this song was inspired by him," he replied, smoothly, rereading the lyrics for the umpteenth time.
Tablo stilled and an odd quiet filled the room.
"Mithra told me," Jeongsik explained, smirking and shifting from the wall to walk a circle around the desk. "Kinda young for you, ain't he, old timer?"
"... Maybe," he drawled, after a beat. Tablo's eyes opened, concentration fading in and out of the present.
"You really got it bad, don't you?"
The air felt hot and cold and his eyes didn't know where to look for an answer.
Tablo straightened up in his seat. "Like I never thought I could," he responded, his face wearing the weeks of sleepless nights, unable to meet his friend's expression.
He could feel the younger's eyes on him, assessing his words.
"... Huh. We can arrange something," Jeongsik stated, as composed as ever, and a hand on the other's shoulder. "I'll let Donghae know, get him in."
With a lecherous grin, he added, laughingly, "Then you can get the kid drunk and hot for your bod."
An arm swung out to elbow the DJ in his stomach. Trust him to turn a serious issue into a dirty joke. "It's not like that," Tablo protested, attempting to shove Jeongsik out of the room. He definitely didn't want Hyukjae like that... he didn't. Did he?
"Hey! This is my room!"
"I don't care. Get yourself the fuck out," he joked, still pushing until his bandmate was halfway out the door.
"Fine! Then grow a pair and talk to the kid without my help! Geez!" Jeongsik panted, struggling to hold onto the doorframe, until Tablo's shoulder stopped digging into his gut – replaced by a fist smacking onto his shoulder.
"Ow! I was kidding!" he winced, rubbing the sore. "I don't get paid enough to take this shit. God."
Tablo watched him wobble back to his bed. His friend's words hit home. Grow a pair... He'd been tiptoeing around Hyukjae like a crazed stalker, too afraid to make a move. That was ending now.
"We're friends. You don't get paid at all," he simpered. "But I'll cut you a deal. If you can get him in, you can hit me back. Or I'll buy you those new headphones you want."
Tablo started heading out, but turned back abruptly to add, "Oh, and tell Heechul we'll need the stage."
If he was going to do this, he was going to do it right. And with style.
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