a sad, sorry excuse for a fic...
Title: Comfort Me, Baby
Pairing: Mir/Cheondoong
Rating: G
Prompt/Summary: Cheondoong had a shitty day. Mir attempts to make it better.
A/N: for kiri125. A happy fic for you in recompense for the angsty Rain/Joon fic. Not really worthy of the prompt in my opinion. I apologize. >.<;;
He slumped through the apartment’s doorway and stumbled over the pit of shoes. With an exhausted curse, he fell to his knees, bracing his hands on the floor and letting his head hang in weariness. The day just went from one bit of frustration to another bit of hell. His head ached from the hair pulling a pissed off, though not with him, stylist had given him. Twinges in his back from holding a few too many awkward poses for his photoshoot had him wincing. Now his knees throbbed from their abrupt contact with the floor and he wondered vaguely if he’d twisted an ankle because the right one seemed to be mumbling some complaints of its own.
The script he’d lost, the outfit he’d spilled on, and the seemingly four million other things that had gone wrong just didn’t bear thinking about. He sighed the sigh of a beaten man.
“Hands and knees. Is that an invitation?” Mir’s voice slipped into his awareness and warmed some of the colder parts of his heart, eased a few of the mental aches.
He glanced up into that perpetually boyish face and attempted a smile. He felt the smile inside but his facial muscles seemed reluctant to cooperate. Instantly, Mir knelt in front of him cupping his face in gentle hands. “Bad day, baby?” At Cheondoong’s exhausted nod, Mir kissed him softly. “Come on then. Let Mireu take care of you.”
Helping Cheondoong stand, Mir wrapped an arm around his waist and helped him to the bedroom. With a near-clinical efficiency, Mir stripped him of clothes. Only a hand lingering in places no nurse or doctor’s hand should linger indicated his lust for Cheondoong’s skin. Pushing him onto the bed, Mir stood hands on hips, lips pursed in thought.
“I’m not up to sex. As much as I love you.” Cheondoong shut his eyes.
“I could change that.” At the brief nod of assent, Mir said, “But that’s not what I brought you in here for.”
Footsteps pattered out of the room and Cheondoong wondered what Mir was up to but couldn’t hold the curiosity for long. Dark waves of exhaustion crashed over him, dragged him under, and cradled him in sleep. Minutes later, a hand was shaking him out of the sleep’s warm embrace, a warmer voice penetrating the veil over his mind.
“Wake up, Doongie. You need to eat. Wake up.”
“I’ve barely gone to sleep,” he complained drowsily.
“You’ve been out for almost two hours. You need to eat some dinner.” Mir’s words slowly made sense and Cheondoong sat up quickly.
“Two hours?” Crap, he thought. I just can’t win today. I fall asleep when Mir probably had some plans for us. “Dinner? We didn’t have plans, did we?” He gripped Mir’s hand.
Lacing his fingers with Cheondoong’s, he gave a half grin. “No, baby. No plans except for me to spoil you a little.” Freeing his hand, he bent and retrieved a tray laden with food and even a glass of Cheondoong’s favorite drink. “Eat.”
“Dinner in bed?” He studied the tray on his lap in surprise. “You cooked?”
With a laugh, Mir shook his head. “No way. I ordered take out. I love you but not enough to go all domestic goddess for you.”
Moved Cheondoong caressed Mir’s cheek. “Any amount of your love is plenty.”
Eyes softening to a melted caramel, Mir managed a snarky “You are awful mushy. Emphasis on awful.”
With a grin, his first true one in over eight hours, Cheondoong began to eat as Mir rambled about his day. When the last bite vanished, Mir prepared to bring the tray back to the kitchen but was stopped by a hand on his wrist. “Just put it on the floor for now.”
Cheondoong wrapped his arms around Mir, drawing him down beside him. Chest to chest they breathed in the silence of the apartment, the beating of two hearts moving to one emotion. It was romantic and awful mushy as moments went but Cheondoong savored it, determined to tuck the memory of Mir in his arms and against his body away for future use.
“Kiss me, Mireu. Make it all better.” He tightened his arms around Mir’s body. “Only you, your lips, your hands, your presence can make it all better.”
Awful mushy indeed, Mir thought as he slid into a warm kiss, but it was his awful mushy. All his.
Pairing: Mir/Cheondoong
Rating: G
Prompt/Summary: Cheondoong had a shitty day. Mir attempts to make it better.
A/N: for kiri125. A happy fic for you in recompense for the angsty Rain/Joon fic. Not really worthy of the prompt in my opinion. I apologize. >.<;;
He slumped through the apartment’s doorway and stumbled over the pit of shoes. With an exhausted curse, he fell to his knees, bracing his hands on the floor and letting his head hang in weariness. The day just went from one bit of frustration to another bit of hell. His head ached from the hair pulling a pissed off, though not with him, stylist had given him. Twinges in his back from holding a few too many awkward poses for his photoshoot had him wincing. Now his knees throbbed from their abrupt contact with the floor and he wondered vaguely if he’d twisted an ankle because the right one seemed to be mumbling some complaints of its own.
The script he’d lost, the outfit he’d spilled on, and the seemingly four million other things that had gone wrong just didn’t bear thinking about. He sighed the sigh of a beaten man.
“Hands and knees. Is that an invitation?” Mir’s voice slipped into his awareness and warmed some of the colder parts of his heart, eased a few of the mental aches.
He glanced up into that perpetually boyish face and attempted a smile. He felt the smile inside but his facial muscles seemed reluctant to cooperate. Instantly, Mir knelt in front of him cupping his face in gentle hands. “Bad day, baby?” At Cheondoong’s exhausted nod, Mir kissed him softly. “Come on then. Let Mireu take care of you.”
Helping Cheondoong stand, Mir wrapped an arm around his waist and helped him to the bedroom. With a near-clinical efficiency, Mir stripped him of clothes. Only a hand lingering in places no nurse or doctor’s hand should linger indicated his lust for Cheondoong’s skin. Pushing him onto the bed, Mir stood hands on hips, lips pursed in thought.
“I’m not up to sex. As much as I love you.” Cheondoong shut his eyes.
“I could change that.” At the brief nod of assent, Mir said, “But that’s not what I brought you in here for.”
Footsteps pattered out of the room and Cheondoong wondered what Mir was up to but couldn’t hold the curiosity for long. Dark waves of exhaustion crashed over him, dragged him under, and cradled him in sleep. Minutes later, a hand was shaking him out of the sleep’s warm embrace, a warmer voice penetrating the veil over his mind.
“Wake up, Doongie. You need to eat. Wake up.”
“I’ve barely gone to sleep,” he complained drowsily.
“You’ve been out for almost two hours. You need to eat some dinner.” Mir’s words slowly made sense and Cheondoong sat up quickly.
“Two hours?” Crap, he thought. I just can’t win today. I fall asleep when Mir probably had some plans for us. “Dinner? We didn’t have plans, did we?” He gripped Mir’s hand.
Lacing his fingers with Cheondoong’s, he gave a half grin. “No, baby. No plans except for me to spoil you a little.” Freeing his hand, he bent and retrieved a tray laden with food and even a glass of Cheondoong’s favorite drink. “Eat.”
“Dinner in bed?” He studied the tray on his lap in surprise. “You cooked?”
With a laugh, Mir shook his head. “No way. I ordered take out. I love you but not enough to go all domestic goddess for you.”
Moved Cheondoong caressed Mir’s cheek. “Any amount of your love is plenty.”
Eyes softening to a melted caramel, Mir managed a snarky “You are awful mushy. Emphasis on awful.”
With a grin, his first true one in over eight hours, Cheondoong began to eat as Mir rambled about his day. When the last bite vanished, Mir prepared to bring the tray back to the kitchen but was stopped by a hand on his wrist. “Just put it on the floor for now.”
Cheondoong wrapped his arms around Mir, drawing him down beside him. Chest to chest they breathed in the silence of the apartment, the beating of two hearts moving to one emotion. It was romantic and awful mushy as moments went but Cheondoong savored it, determined to tuck the memory of Mir in his arms and against his body away for future use.
“Kiss me, Mireu. Make it all better.” He tightened his arms around Mir’s body. “Only you, your lips, your hands, your presence can make it all better.”
Awful mushy indeed, Mir thought as he slid into a warm kiss, but it was his awful mushy. All his.