[00] Moyo wa Jua: Heart of the Sun
Pairing: GTOP
Genre: AU
Summary: Kwon Jiyong grew up helping out at his mother's betel nut stand beside a major highway in Taiwan. Surrounded by skimpily-clad girls and coarse truck-driving men who are only interested in the teeth-staining stimulant and the occasional quick grope, he develops a disdain for women and a casual attitude towards sex. A teenaged fling with one of the nunas sees him sent back to Korea in disgrace to live with an aunt, but he soon discovers that the girl he'd been with had harbored a dark secret that he couldn't escape from now…
00
"Have you no shame? Get out!" shrieked his mother, her face red with shame or fury, he wasn't sure. "Get out!"
The girl in his arms was as slow to comply as he was, and he chose to finish the deed before he got up, earning him a bite on his bare shoulder that made him wince in a heady mix of pleasure and pain as she shuddered and came with him.
By this time his mother had located a feather duster, which she brandished with a vengeance. He dressed as quickly as he could, swearing at his mother for the welts quickly forming under the cane handle of the weapon.
"Watch your language, Kwon Jiyong," she screamed in Korean - always an indicator of her extreme rage. "You never learn anything good out here, except to smoke and swear, and now this! You'll be the death of me!"
"And you!" she rounded on the girl in rapid-fire Mandarin. "I hired you to sell betel nuts, not to seduce my son! What are you, a whore? I don't care what you do with the customers, but not my son!"
His mother spat vehemently on the floor and slammed the door on her so she could dress in the cramped little backroom that doubled as an office.
"Not so fast, young man," she collared him as he managed to pull his tshirt on over his head. "You're here to work, you think you're all grown up now, are you, huh, screwing around with the girls? How'm I supposed to trust you around here anymore if you're gonna be fooling around behind my back?"
"Don't then! Fuck!" he swore, trying to release himself from his mother's grip. The expletive bought him another sound thwack over the head with the feather duster.
A truck trundled up to the glass-fronted booth just then, and a greasy, coarse-faced driver looked in from the cab.
"Hey, where's the pretty girl," he hollered over the noise of the highway outside.
"Fuck," his mother cursed, and gave Jiyong a push. "Go serve the client."
"And you wonder where I learn to swear," muttered Jiyong, slamming out the door.
"Hsiao-Mei's busy," he informed the truck driver. "What can I get you?"
"What can you get me?" leered the driver, eyeing Jiyong’s long hair. "You boy or girl? You're new here?"
"C'mon, da-ge," Jiyong pushed his long fringe out of his face and adopted the bantering tone of an experienced salesman. "Have a couple of smokes or something while waiting, she'll be out soon."
He managed to cajole the driver into buying a pack of the cheap cigarettes they stocked, and stalled him till Hsiao-Mei emerged from the backroom with her makeup re-done.
"Hi, da-ge - oh, I see Jiyong's got you your cigs already. Come on, you gotta buy a couple of my handrolled betel chews," she cooed and pouted. "I roll them special, just the way you like."
Jiyong took his leave silently, scowl back on his face. Not because of Hsiao-Mei's coquettish behavior. He couldn't give a rat's ass who else she fucked - that was just the way things worked out here. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the customer give Hsiao-Mei a quick grope of her pert breasts as she took more dollarbills from him, while she smiled and bade him have a safe trip and return soon.
Once the customer had left, the sulk returned to her face too. She approached Jiyong and tapped his shoulder, causing him to wince - he'd forgot the bite mark she'd left on his shoulder. Oblivious to his pain, she handed him the money and motioned him to take it in to his mother. He took it, counted it mentally with a quick glance and went in without another word.
His mother was on the phone in the office, talking in Korean with the satoori accent that told him it was his aunt on the other end. When she hung up, she looked up at him with the utmost displeasure.
"You're going back to Korea tomorrow."
"What? No!" he threw the money on the desk and stared at her. "Whatever the hell for?"
"I can't afford to keep you around here anymore. You're growing up and I have a business to run. You'll stay with your aunt in Mokpo."
"But…"
"No buts. It's not like you're doing so hot in school here anyway. You're only 15 and already you're acting like some hotshot. Not earning your keep but screwing around," his mother's tirade didn't stop for a single moment as she opened and closed drawers, counted the money and rearranged items.
Jiyong realized he didn't have anything to argue his case with. He picked up his jacket and stalked home to his guitar, turning his back on his mother's unending nagging.
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