Coley-Merrin
Pairing: Blohyuk
Summary: The rap battles were in the underground. Hidden. And like that, Hyukjae thinks he's got everything under wraps, but it turns out someone sees more than he expected.
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Was it possible to fall in love through words? Just the sound of someone's voice speaking clever turns of phrase. He found that if he wanted a way to amuse himself in even the most dismal situations, it was to imagine hearing them spoken. Working. School. Any time. And he'd been into it, the flow of rhyme and words, before, really. But there was a different reason now.
His name was Daniel Lee, and he was foreign, and yet not. He could've used his Korean name, but he didn't have to. Most everyone called him Tablo, some with amusement, some with respect. He'd just kind of shown up one day and caused a buzz and over time, a little bit of a following. All the scrawny little boys who dreamed they could grow up to be badass, who gathered around Tablo after a show like they thought just having him breathe on them would make them grow a thesaurus in their brain. And there were some girls in that crowd, too. Some girls liked brainy guys, he and his friend had consoled themselves (or funny guys, or guys who could dance, or whatever it was that day). It wasn't like Tablo looked like some kind of movie star, either. He was kind of goofy sometimes, kind of sly. But there were the other times, when his part of the battle was over, when he'd sit down and he'd listen, head bouncing with the rhythm, as though he were putting his own words with it. And he was so focused on them, that Hyukjae had a hard time not just focusing on him. The flashes of a smile, the amused sideways glances at one of his buddies.
Some people called Tablo arrogant, that he thought he was better than everyone else, smarter than everyone else. It wasn't like he'd lived a long time, but Hyukjae was pretty sure that some people came by their confidence naturally and well-deservedly. It probably meant that he'd worked for it, not like those people who just claimed to be the best without even trying. And people who worked for something usually kept working. They didn't give up, they kept trying to be the best until they weren't. So yeah, maybe he was arrogant. But Hyukjae wasn't sure who he'd be without that.
And he could claim a little bias in that.
Probably, he told himself, he'd meant to be part of that little group of people. He didn't even really qualify for the fringes. In his wildest dreams, he imagined he could just walk up and joke with him, Hey Tablo, how's it going. And then, even more bizarrely, Tablo would answer back, as though he had some kind of a right to talk to him. It wasn't like he was some deity. If he did that, Tablo would more like look at him as if were some kind of flea that had hopped onto his arm. Not unwelcome exactly, but definitely unknown and unexpected. It wasn't like he was trying to bite him. Not like that anyway.
One of his other fantasies was getting up on stage and just knocking it out of the park. Every word, phrase, line, brilliant. So witty. So cutting. So even half that good. So good Tablo would turn to one of his friends and tell them he needed to meet that kid, make sure he stays after. And they would strike up such an unusual friendship, and be best friends after five minutes and write stuff together and be the most famous and brilliant duo ever.
And it really was totally innocent except for the part he imagined that they would end writing sessions by sexing each other up vigorously and routinely.
Because imagining Tablo's voice in his ear didn't turn him on. At all. Ever.
And he really had about as much shot at that as, say, being in line to be the next king of England.
When that day's battle was over, he stood, expecting to go, and nearly jumped sideways as a hand touched his arm. A guy he only vaguely recognized seemed to want to say something.
"Hey, you're needed backstage," he said.
Oh. Was that all.
"I think you have the wrong person."
"Nope, you were pointed out. Come with me."
He'd never been backstage, the little building having once had performances of some other kind, little dressing rooms and storage along the corridor. The room he was shoved into didn't have much more than a little couch and a table, and didn't have much room for more than that either.
He was expecting someone to be back there threatening to break his kneecaps even though he'd never done anything wrong. It wasn't him. He just had one of those faces.
But that the door closed behind and he actually saw who was in the room? That was more scary than a guy with a bat.
Because it was Tablo, and he had just stood up. And was looking at Hyukjae with some expectation.
"Hey, come here a second. You're Hyukjae, right?"
He wasn't sure how he managed to walk, all the while gaping and having his feet flop around like rubber fish. Tablo knew his name? How? He hoped he wasn't too obvious. But he did as instructed. Yes, he did. And then he handed over his notebook because he was asked for it. And because his brain had been left handily on the other side of the doorframe.
"I see you watching and scribbling in this thing all the time, and I always wondered what you were writing. There was a line tonight that I wanted to make sure of, and I thought you might've gotten it down."
Tablo was flipping through his notebook. (Tablo!) His notebook! His notebook that he wrote down lines he admired, and then went back with highlighter and ink pens, and drew lines and diagrams and lists, and wrote lines how he thought he might have done it, or tried to go a totally different direction. Some of it was Tablo's. Not all of it. He tried to mark pages by who it'd been that night. A lot of it was Tablo's. And though tonight's was fresh and unmarked, the pages being turned had definitely been added to. He was frozen in sick horror.
"You're critiquing my rhymes?"
"No, I was just—" He broke off, wondering if there was a better direction. Or a hole in the floor. "If it were me, I mean! Um."
Tablo laughed. "Don't worry. I do that, too. Means you're thinking. All these notes, you're better than a camera. Why don't you ever get up there?"
"Oh, I'm not ready for that. I'm really not ready."
"I wasn't ready the first time I did either, but someone made me."
"Yeah, but you wouldn't have made a fool of yourself."
"And how do you know if you don't try? We could try right now."
His brain wasn't even a functional thing this close to Tablo. Maybe, if it had been someone else, if he hadn't been hearing his heart in his ears, he could've. He didn't even think he could recite some of the nursery rhymes he'd learned as a child, much less come up with something spontaneously.
"I have to go, I have to..."
He thought he was backing up, as his hand met the wall, but the problem was that Tablo wasn't getting further away. When he dared to look up, instead of staring helplessly at his notebook still on the table, Tablo's eyes were direct on his. And the skipped beat his heart leaped over was almost painful.
"Have to?" Tablo queried.
He groped for the door handle, and realized Tablo had gotten there first. And with a little metallic slide, the lock slid into place.
"Wh-what are you doing?"
He was more scared of making a fool of himself. What was Tablo going to do? Make him rap against his will? If he could just tear his eyes away from Tablo's mouth, he'd be fine. Get his notebook, unlock the door. Fine. He might take a few months to ever come back, but he'd survive it.
"I told you, I saw you watching me. Maybe you liked what you saw?"
There was that arrogance. Liked as in, liked? As in, wanted physically? All the horror he had contained over the possibility of making an idiot in front of Tablo went sweeping through his brain like bats at dusk. He was staring, slack jawed, he knew it.
"N-not like that? I don't. I don't..."
"Shh," Tablo murmured, brushing the tip of his nose against Hyukjae's. "There's time for silence, too."
Why were kisses so special anyway? Just the brush of something so intimate, and...so very...
He shuddered as Tablo's mouth brushed his. He had seen it in his head a hundred times. He'd kissed someone before. Once. Maybe it counted. He didn't even consider that he ought to pushing Tablo away and running away screaming. He was too busy leaning in like a floppy doll, and kissing back.
In fact, he nearly fell forward when Tablo broke the kiss, so focused was he on keeping contact. And he was cross eyed until he jerked his head back, wary.
"Don't be scared, Hyukjae. If we both want it."
Tablo's hand had gotten beneath his shirt, onto the skin of his side. His face went cold then hot, opening his mouth to protest, and tasting Tablo in his moan. Soft mouth, urgent kiss, and he managed to get a hand up, touching Tablo's shoulder. His neck. He still wasn't sure what was going on. Someone was hiding in the room somewhere with a camera and they'd start laughing at his idiocy, and he'd have to move to Spain. But if he had just a second more of Tablo's mouth...
And then Tablo's finger brushed his nipple, and he lost control of his hips entirely.
I'm sorry! his mind screamed, but never got the chance to do it himself, as their hips danced. Up the line of the zipper, around. Tablo making pleased little grunts with every revolution of his hips.
"That made you hot?" was whispered against his mouth, and it took him a moment to process it. All of his focus was on his pants.
And the open button.
And the zipper that was being dragged down.
And the fact that his hands were being pressed to the wall as though urging him to stay there.
The man whose brain he had a crush on and whose body he fantasized about was...Trying to go down on him?
He wasn't sure if Tablo realized, exactly, how much it was affecting him.
He'd probably gotten the clue when Hyukjae had nearly kneed him in the face as he was kneeling, his legs were shaking so bad. He was pretty sure he had died with shame, but Tablo had just chuckled and stood him up from where he'd been holding up the wall and pushed him down onto the couch. But Tablo had knelt and grabbed his hips, and he really hadn't cared at all, ever, what had happened before. Because Tablo's tongue, his mouth, was so silky, wet and warm and living. And when he breathed, hot against him, Hyukjae just swallowed his squeak. But the slick and delicate slide of Tablo's teeth had the hairs standing up on the back of his neck.
He lasted a very respectable ten minutes, but he knew most of that was because of Tablo. He very much doubted, had there been constant stimulation the way Tablo had begun, with the sealed lips and flickering tongue, that he would have lasted even a minute or two. And that must have been obvious, because Tablo had slowed, pulling back with a little smile and rubbing that smile along him and fondling with his hand. He was pretty sure he'd just imagined how good Tablo's mouth had felt, but no, that was a lie, because his fingers were digging into the couch cushions seconds later. And on the edge of control, Tablo eased him down again. And again. And he didn't even have words, just moans and Tablo's name.
And when the end came, Tablo didn't just give it to him. He made him work for it, moving his hips to meet Tablo's mouth, pleading, until every cell in his body was tensed, ready, working for release that was just there dancing in front of his eyes. He heard someone roar, and realized it was him. The beam becoming a starburst that wouldn't end, as he spasmed and cried out. Sweat was all but pouring down his chest and back and he panted, head flopping from side to side as he tried to rationalize. He wasn't even sure what he was trying to rationalize.
It was the single most glorious ten minutes of pleasure anyone had ever experienced, and it had been his. Every single dream and expectation that he'd had about Tablo had been absolutely, spectacularly, completely not even close to the real thing. He felt like he should apologize.
"Aren't you sweet," Tablo said, almost on the verge of mocking, but Hyukjae only realized what he had been talking about moments later. When Tablo had straddled his hips on the couch and deftly wound their tongues together, so he could taste just what Tablo had been talking about. And he was still too deep in ecstasy to even consider being upset by that.
His hand was stroking in time to their kiss, led by Tablo's own. Something warm, and...
Tablo smirked against him, cocking his head a little a cute question. "Want to give me a hand?"
Did he. He had none of Tablo's finesse or knowledge or skill. Maybe just what he knew he liked, and the knowledge that he was doing it to someone else. He'd turned on Tablo. Right in his lap was the culmination of a fantasy not even his best friends knew of. A fantasy who was coming over his fist, making a mess of both their clothes, and that thought only brought him glee.
"I'll get you up on that stage yet, see if I don't," Tablo said, kissing him.
Maybe it was the sex talking, or the hero worship. But he was pretty prepared to follow this man anywhere.
Yeah, that was probably the sex. But it didn't stop him for going for one more kiss.
TBC...
