Burnt Rice (CL/Teddy, Teddy/Taeyang)
Title: Burnt Rice
Pairing: CL/Teddy, Teddy/Taeyang
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Some would call her a fag hag or an okoge; she prefers the term "muse", which Jeremy reverently bestows upon her one night as he watches her splash around in the jacuzzi of his five-star hotel suite.
Chaerin has always gotten along well with gay men, from 2NE1's stylists to Jiyong to Jeremy Scott right down to, in retrospect, that boy in junior high who sang and wrote lyrics with her at lunchtime. Some would call her a fag hag or an okoge; she prefers the term "muse", which Jeremy reverently bestows upon her one night as he watches her splash around in the jacuzzi of his five-star hotel suite.
It works out well; gay men are good at giving her things and she's good at wearing them. Her papa raised her not to care what people think, too, and that makes her one of the too-few people who truly don't mind hanging out with them, at least in Korea. She feels safe around them, even drunk in a crowded club or woozy from the pills Jeremy occasionally slips into her hand, and it's so much easier to be herself with them than it is with straight men. Jiyong doesn't pull away from her hugs the way Teddy does. Teddy wouldn't get into a jacuzzi with her or let her hold her hand on the street, either, nor would he laugh at people's stares while stumbling home in avant-garde designer clothing after some red-carpet event.
No - straight men buy her things for all the wrong reasons, or watch her like they're trying to anticipate her next move, or get all weird when she sits a little too close. It's them, really, that she doesn't know how to handle. It's a good thing the gay ones are good at listening and giving her advice.
"Just tell him how you feel," Seungho says as he scribbles on one of the shoes they're customizing for 2NE1, ever the romantic under his punkish exterior.
"He knows how I feel."
"No, tell him for real. Not like you do in interviews."
She pours her heart out to Teddy from the recording booth (a safe distance, she thinks, that won't make him uncomfortable), but he only stares at her through the glass as she tells him how much of an inspiration he's been and how much she cherishes the time they spend together. He mutters a quick "thanks" into the microphone, then clears his throat and avoids her eyes for the rest of their recording session.
"Leave it to me," Jiyong tells her with a dismissive wave of his hand after she recounts her complete failure. The following day, the three of them somehow end up sitting in a small cafe, and Jiyong's cell phone just happens to ring as soon as the waitress deposits their chocolate parfait onto the table.
Teddy rolls his eyes as Jiyong leaves, but picks up the spoon he abandoned and fights Chaerin for some of the hot fudge and chopped nuts anyway. They joke and laugh and talk about Rihanna's new album and they both make a face at the corn flake layer of the parfait ("get that healthy breakfast crap out of my ice cream", as he puts it), and it's all achingly perfect until he puts the spoon down and explains, in a tone so gentle it makes her want to scream, that he loves her like a little sister.
Jeremy lets her rant and sigh and takes it upon himself to raise her morale again. The bubble bath and champagne do help, and so does his insistence that she's the sexiest thing he's ever seen and that Teddy doesn't deserve her. By the time she gets back home (with braids in her hair and mismatched polish on her fingernails), she has herself convinced that she just needs to try a different approach.
She's at an opening party for... something - she can barely remember where she is, never mind why - when she finally works up the nerve (and the blood alcohol level) to just plant one on Teddy. He's skulking around as he usually does when he even bothers to show up for events like this one, ducking from the cameras and sipping from a plastic cup, and it's easy to corner him in the dark corridor that leads to the bathrooms. He tastes like beer and the cigarettes he's supposed to stop smoking, and his firm grip on Chaerin's hip sends a shiver down her spine until she realizes he's trying to push her away.
"No-- Chaerin--" he says against her lips, but he's drunk too, and when she kisses him again he only laughs into it. That feels like progress.
"What are you doing?"
Teddy pulls away so fast he hits his head against the wall behind him. Chaerin wants to laugh, but Youngbae spoke in a low, dangerous tone, and when she turns to look at him, her fingers curled into the collar of Teddy's jacket for balance, his jaw is set and he doesn't seem amused at all.
"I-- she's the one who kissed me," Teddy replies. He shakes Chaerin off and then he's got one arm slung over Youngbae's shoulders, his cup of beer tilted at a dangerous angle as he speaks into his ear. Chaerin blinks once, twice, but can't chalk up the way Teddy's lips are brushing against Youngbae's ear to her alcohol-impaired vision. It doesn't take long before he coaxes a smile out of Youngbae and sends him on his way with the half-full cup and - Chaerin blinks again - a discreet kiss to his temple.
"What?" Teddy asks. She must be staring. She must look as stupid as she's feeling, too, because he starts laughing again, then scrubs a hand over his face. "Fuck, don't look at me like... I was gonna--"
She pushes past him without waiting for his explanation, flushed and nearly nauseous with embarrassment, and keeps going until she's out of the club and shivering on the sidewalk. It all makes an ironic, cruel kind of sense. She likes Teddy too much for him to be straight.
Dara stays up with her at home, drinking and talking and letting her cry. She wakes up the following morning with her head pounding and her eyelids sticking together from the dried tears and make-up, but her papa raised her to be strong, so she takes a shower, puts on something nice, and calls Teddy. If she can't have him, she can damn well go shopping with him and his hot boyfriend.
Pairing: CL/Teddy, Teddy/Taeyang
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Some would call her a fag hag or an okoge; she prefers the term "muse", which Jeremy reverently bestows upon her one night as he watches her splash around in the jacuzzi of his five-star hotel suite.
Chaerin has always gotten along well with gay men, from 2NE1's stylists to Jiyong to Jeremy Scott right down to, in retrospect, that boy in junior high who sang and wrote lyrics with her at lunchtime. Some would call her a fag hag or an okoge; she prefers the term "muse", which Jeremy reverently bestows upon her one night as he watches her splash around in the jacuzzi of his five-star hotel suite.
It works out well; gay men are good at giving her things and she's good at wearing them. Her papa raised her not to care what people think, too, and that makes her one of the too-few people who truly don't mind hanging out with them, at least in Korea. She feels safe around them, even drunk in a crowded club or woozy from the pills Jeremy occasionally slips into her hand, and it's so much easier to be herself with them than it is with straight men. Jiyong doesn't pull away from her hugs the way Teddy does. Teddy wouldn't get into a jacuzzi with her or let her hold her hand on the street, either, nor would he laugh at people's stares while stumbling home in avant-garde designer clothing after some red-carpet event.
No - straight men buy her things for all the wrong reasons, or watch her like they're trying to anticipate her next move, or get all weird when she sits a little too close. It's them, really, that she doesn't know how to handle. It's a good thing the gay ones are good at listening and giving her advice.
"Just tell him how you feel," Seungho says as he scribbles on one of the shoes they're customizing for 2NE1, ever the romantic under his punkish exterior.
"He knows how I feel."
"No, tell him for real. Not like you do in interviews."
She pours her heart out to Teddy from the recording booth (a safe distance, she thinks, that won't make him uncomfortable), but he only stares at her through the glass as she tells him how much of an inspiration he's been and how much she cherishes the time they spend together. He mutters a quick "thanks" into the microphone, then clears his throat and avoids her eyes for the rest of their recording session.
"Leave it to me," Jiyong tells her with a dismissive wave of his hand after she recounts her complete failure. The following day, the three of them somehow end up sitting in a small cafe, and Jiyong's cell phone just happens to ring as soon as the waitress deposits their chocolate parfait onto the table.
Teddy rolls his eyes as Jiyong leaves, but picks up the spoon he abandoned and fights Chaerin for some of the hot fudge and chopped nuts anyway. They joke and laugh and talk about Rihanna's new album and they both make a face at the corn flake layer of the parfait ("get that healthy breakfast crap out of my ice cream", as he puts it), and it's all achingly perfect until he puts the spoon down and explains, in a tone so gentle it makes her want to scream, that he loves her like a little sister.
Jeremy lets her rant and sigh and takes it upon himself to raise her morale again. The bubble bath and champagne do help, and so does his insistence that she's the sexiest thing he's ever seen and that Teddy doesn't deserve her. By the time she gets back home (with braids in her hair and mismatched polish on her fingernails), she has herself convinced that she just needs to try a different approach.
She's at an opening party for... something - she can barely remember where she is, never mind why - when she finally works up the nerve (and the blood alcohol level) to just plant one on Teddy. He's skulking around as he usually does when he even bothers to show up for events like this one, ducking from the cameras and sipping from a plastic cup, and it's easy to corner him in the dark corridor that leads to the bathrooms. He tastes like beer and the cigarettes he's supposed to stop smoking, and his firm grip on Chaerin's hip sends a shiver down her spine until she realizes he's trying to push her away.
"No-- Chaerin--" he says against her lips, but he's drunk too, and when she kisses him again he only laughs into it. That feels like progress.
"What are you doing?"
Teddy pulls away so fast he hits his head against the wall behind him. Chaerin wants to laugh, but Youngbae spoke in a low, dangerous tone, and when she turns to look at him, her fingers curled into the collar of Teddy's jacket for balance, his jaw is set and he doesn't seem amused at all.
"I-- she's the one who kissed me," Teddy replies. He shakes Chaerin off and then he's got one arm slung over Youngbae's shoulders, his cup of beer tilted at a dangerous angle as he speaks into his ear. Chaerin blinks once, twice, but can't chalk up the way Teddy's lips are brushing against Youngbae's ear to her alcohol-impaired vision. It doesn't take long before he coaxes a smile out of Youngbae and sends him on his way with the half-full cup and - Chaerin blinks again - a discreet kiss to his temple.
"What?" Teddy asks. She must be staring. She must look as stupid as she's feeling, too, because he starts laughing again, then scrubs a hand over his face. "Fuck, don't look at me like... I was gonna--"
She pushes past him without waiting for his explanation, flushed and nearly nauseous with embarrassment, and keeps going until she's out of the club and shivering on the sidewalk. It all makes an ironic, cruel kind of sense. She likes Teddy too much for him to be straight.
Dara stays up with her at home, drinking and talking and letting her cry. She wakes up the following morning with her head pounding and her eyelids sticking together from the dried tears and make-up, but her papa raised her to be strong, so she takes a shower, puts on something nice, and calls Teddy. If she can't have him, she can damn well go shopping with him and his hot boyfriend.