Log in

No account? Create an account

Previous Entry | Next Entry

"I'm so sorry but I love you..."


Last weekend, someone had a birthday. Someone whom I've been promising a fic since, like, idk, october or something, I really can't remember.
First time she asked for a Qmi, and it was supposed to be a drabble but then as she discovered this new fandom she's totally absolutely conpletely absorbed in, she changed it to Joon/Mir.
it took me a lot of time and consideration as I am not that much into the fandom (yet) and I needed to re-write this, like, hundreds of times and it's still not quite how I wanted it to turn out, but... I hope you will like it a tiny little bit, at least.
Has my heart in it, if that counts.
And also...
ILU, gurl, ILU as your little, macho teen lovely self and as part of my online OTP, too. Hope you had an awesome party^^

HAPPY BELATED BIRTHDAY TO MY ONLY retrominho  <33333333333

Title: Pizza (sorry for the lame title I couldn't quite come up with a better one:S)
Pairing: Joon/Mir (Mlblaq)
Rating: pg-13
Disclaimer: don't even know them enough to own them...
Genre: umm, AU, basically...
A/N: So don't hate me too much for this, bb? I tried, srsly:SSS Also, this is un-betaed because it's already 2AM here and I am dead tired and almost asleep but I dunno when I'll be able to get online again so... yeah.:S

“…so, like, all the fucking old fags gathered together, mean witches, really, and they look at me like I was some kind of a diet cake they can’t wait to get their red-nailed hands on! They creep the shit out of me I swear…”
“Oh wait a minute while I start feeling sorry for you, Cheolyong, I need to stop feeling sorry for my ten minute break during the 12 fucking hours I am working through first, for I spend all that precious time listening to you! Okay… got it… Poor Cheolyongie has to sit through
an other elite party his hyper-millionaire parents organized for their similar, multi-millionaire friends! I feel for you, dude, really…”
“Quit that shit, Seungho, will ya?” Cheolyong barked in his phone, letting out a heavy sigh right after. “I swear I’d be willing to work 12 hours with you if you got on your motorbike and stormed here to get me out of this fucking prison...”
“You know I told you tons of times that we could always switch lives…” Seungho answered and the boy could tell that his hyung was smiling widely, knowing that he didn’t actually mean it.
Not like Cheolyong wouldn’t want to do just that, leave his parents’ house and life just to live like other, normal people, but that was impossible, no matter how hard he hated it. And he also knew Seungho since they were kids, thus he was perfectly aware of the fact that his friend would never be able to fit into the world of money, power, hypocrisy and business. Even Cheolyong himself tended to stand out after a while – on purpose, he told himself – always trying to cross the borders his mother set up for him.
At the moment, for example, he was thinking hard of a way to sneak out of their house, since his parents wouldn’t come after him while their guests were present… But before he could continue with his plans, the bedroom door flew open and suddenly he was facing the antagonist of his worst nightmares – his own, angry mother. He immediately ended the call, before she could start her speech about the negative effects Seungho had on Cheolyong – one of her favorite hobbyhorses.
“Our guests are expecting your appearance downstairs, Cheolyong. Stand up and go great them, will you?”
It was more of a command than an actual question, the boy knew that very well, but he still wanted to fight back at least a little bit – not to change her mind but to show her that she did not have the absolute control over her son. “Lies” the voice in his head echoed.
“But Mother, I don’t really feel well and I don’t think…”
“I am not interested in any of your poor and childish excuses, nor are our guests, young man. Now get your useless bum downstairs before I loose my patience!” Her eyes narrowed and the glare in them would have been enough to stop a hungry bear rushing towards fresh meat.
“Yes, Mother!” he answered quietly, fists tightening, and stood to follow her down to the hall, where the guests were gathering.
Business partners and old friends of his father, their wives and the members of his mother’s charity club – all old, boring people for Cheolyong. His mother stopped him before stepping in the room, straightening his bowtie and dusting off non-existent dust of his dark grey suit.
At that very moment, more than ever, Cheolyong hated suits, bowties, parties – and his already politely smiling mother for forcing him into all of them.

He remembered the first time he was allowed to attend a party his parents held. Being less than 13 years old back then, the little boy admired the way their house changed before an event like that. The tall, double-winged doors separating the hall and the salon were open, extremely expensive furniture polished and almost shining, the floor waxed, quiet and pleasant classical music playing in the background – he felt like he was dropped into the world of Prince Charming. That was what all the unknown women called him back then, anyways – Little Prince Charming, their cute doll-boy, all huge, dark eyes, silk locks and curious, enchanting smiles.
He remembered loving the attention he got from them, to a point where it got too much. Where he didn’t feel proud of the achievements his mother boasted about to her friends anymore – he started wondering why she never told him how proud she was of him if there was no one else to hear.
The age of 16 was too young for someone to discover that he is nothing more to his mother than an other piece of the perfectly composed puzzle she called “her life”.
He hated these parties ever since then, and it was even worse this time since she kept keeping a careful eye on him after he tried to escape last time, almost making his mother feeling embarrassed in front of the guests. Almost, of course, but that was enough for her to be even more strict with her son than before.
Cheolyong had no choice but to put on a quite annoyed smile, and start walking around, greeting people, telling them how happy he was that he could have them in their house – and wishing for them to choke on their champagne in his head.
This gave him the actual idea that if he is forced to be here, he might as well get the best out of it, given no other choice – so why not to drink if his own parents were paying for it? He looked around to wave to a young man wearing black trousers, flawless white shirt and a plain, black vest – one of the waiters his parents hired for the party. In fact, they hired a whole catering crew with two cooks, three waiters and a small, annoyingly bouncy woman they called their organizer. Only the waiters left the kitchen, though, and Cheolyong was thankful he did not have to meet her again.
“Can I get you something else?” the waiter politely asked after he took a glass of French champagne from the plate he held in his hand.
“Umm… a pizza would be nice, with tons of pepperoni…” he answered smirking. Even though the poor guy had nothing to do with his awful mood, he was hired by his parents and should take the mocking if he got money for it. They did not serve pizza, of course, but he felt like releasing a bit of his anger on someone, and the waiter just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Or so he thought…
“Su… sure, sir, I’ll have to ask for your patience as it would take some time!” he answered, and Cheolyong looked up in confusion, staring in the face of the waiter for the first time.
He couldn’t have been much older than Cheolyong himself, but he was a bit taller, and as far as he could tell from the way his shirt tightened around his shoulders, a bit more built-up, too. His features were average and he bowed his head politely – but he was smirking back at Cheolyoung. The boy’s breath was caught in his throat as he realized the playful sparkle in the waiter’s eyes – but before he could say anything else, the man turned and left towards the kitchen.
His features might have been not more than slightly handsome, but his eyes… his eyes burned down to Cheolyong’s bones.


“Here you are, sir!”
Cheolyong felt his heart stopping for a moment when he heard a voice from behind, and felt someone lightly touching his shoulder. “I should stop being this paranoid…” he thought to himself, before turning to see the waiter from before – and a steaming, seemingly just-out-of-the-oven pizza covered with golden cheese and piles of pepperoni held out towards him. His jaw dropped for the second time, and he quickly blinked a couple times just to make sure he is not hallucinating – but the pizza was still there, along with the now clearly grinning waiter. He looked down at the food and then back at him – and the other man winked.
What the Hell was up with this guy?
The awe was immediately swept away by the realization that his mother could be near and could see them – and Cheolyong did not dare to imagine what he’d get from her if she saw such an “unholy” and “low-class” thing at her precious party. He shook his head and after making sure she was nowhere to be seen, rushed through the crowd, towards the door that hid the stairs leading upstairs to the bedrooms, motioning to the waiter to follow him. And to his surprise, he did so.
“How… how did you get that?” he asked once the door was closed behind them.
“Well our duty is to serve what we’re asked for. You wanted pizza... and I called a restaurant to deliver one.” the waiter answered, carefully laying the plate on the stairs.
“Awesome… so if I asked for fresh coconuts, you’d have gotten me them?”
“That’d be a bit more difficult, but I would have tried my best, yeah…”
“Just because I asked you to?”
“Because I do not do this job for money, I do it because one of my best friend’s sister owns this catering service and I help them out whenever I can… he’s one of the waiters, too. His name is Sanghyun…”
“Ohh, I see… what is yours, by the way?”
“You mean… my name?” the waiter asked, raising his brows slightly as if he did not believe that his ears were working.
“Nah I mean your ID-number, man… of course your name!” Cheolyong snorted, his lips curving into an unbelieving smile. He shook his head lightly and sat down on the stairs, eyeing the pizza with awakening interest. His gaze shifted between the food and the man standing in front of him, as if to check which one was more appealing. At the end he took a slice of the pizza and fixing his gaze on him, patted the stair next to himself.
“Lee Changsun…” he finally answered, sitting down next to Cheolyong who seemed to fully focus only on his pizza. “But well… friends call me Joon.”
“Bang Cheolyoung. And… am I considered a friend, after barely introducing ourselves to each other?” he asked curiously, eyes growing a little wider while stuffing the rest of the slice fully into his face.
“Well if you give me a piece of that, then yeah, I guess…”
The other boy did not answer but held out the plate towards Joon, and they sat there in relative silence while finishing the pizza off.
“I kinda like you… your attitude, at least” Cheolyong announced with a straight face, after putting down the now empty plate.
“Is that supposed to be a compliment…?”
“Well I think so. I don’t really say things like that too often to waiters, anyway…”
“Too bad I am not a waiter…”
“Yeah, too bad, since I would sort of love to see my mother’s face after discovering that I had an ‘affair’ with one…” Cheolyong’s smirk grew wider but his face did not change one bit, as if he had stated something like “It seems like it’s gonna be raining soon.”
“Why, did we...?” Joon’s eyes widened, threatening to fall out of his face in the process.
“Not yet” he shrugged and the next this Joon noticed was a pair of plush, pepperoni-flavoured lips on his owns. He gasped in surprise which Cheolyoung took advantage of, deepening the kiss immediately, tongue running playfully around inside his mouth.
And the next second, Cheolyong grabbed his hand and started running upstairs, pulling him after himself once again, the plate abandoned on the stairs behind them. He lead Joon through empty hallways with deep red carpets, past suspiciously original-looking paintings and white wooden doors before entering one that – from the hallway – did not stand out much of the other, similar doors.
The room they stepped into had elegant, flower-patterned wallpaper, mahogany cupboard, a small night table and a dressing table alike; stainless, expensive Persian carpet laying in front of a king-sized bed. It was made beautifully by careful hands, satin pillows and bedcover perfectly organized on top of it.
“So this is not your room, I assume” Joon turned to Cheolyong after eyeing the furnishing.
“Nah, but it’s the only one that you can lock. She took the keys to the other rooms so that we wouldn’t do “inappropriate” things in our privacy and “there is no need for secrets in a family”, anyways… Translated she doesn’t want me to sneak out through my window again…” Cheolyong answered with a smirk. “It’s my mother’s…” he continued, turning the key in the door. The lock clicked in place and he raised the key in front of his face, grinning almost like a small child when caught on tearing his sister’s doll apart, before carelessly dropping it on the carpet.
“So… that means you just locked us inside your mother’s room…” the almost-waiter raised his brow, slowly raising a hand and unbuttoning the first button of his vest.
“She would never look for me here… and you shouldn’t be worrying, anyways. You’re not their employee, they can’t fire you.” The other boy winked before licking his lips hungrily. His jacket followed the key on the floor in the next moment.


“I still can’t get over the fact that you fucked Mir in his mother’s bed…!!” Seungho rolled his eyes, burying his face in his palms.
The three friends had been sitting at a small table in one of their favorite pubs for not more than ten minutes, but he had already shoved down almost a whole bottle of beer after Joon shared yesterday’s story with them. Byunghee handled the information way better, saying “I always told you they would like each other if you introduced them” and turning his chair so that it would face the bar, allowing him to start shamelessly flirting with the bartender girl. But then again, Byunghee did not know Mir as well, and he hadn’t even met his mother, Seungho thought to himself…
Joon did not answer, though, only smiled contently and Seungho somehow felt like punching him in the face so that he would stop laughing at him.
“So… what do you want from me now? Need his number or what? I tell you that boy is the weirdest…”
“I already have his number, hyung…” Joon’s smile grew even wider as he pulled a napkin out of his pocket, numbers with a real messy handwriting all over on it.
Seungho sighed in disbelief, finishing off his beer in one go and dropping his head on the table, while his two friends’ voice and laughter echoed above his head.
“So… I wonder if Seungho knew exactly how serious Cheolyong’s oral fixation was…”


Apr. 5th, 2010 05:06 pm (UTC)
oh you, stfu! this is awesome okay mmmmhh ♥