strawberry swing - dongwoon/key
1/1
Dongwoon/Key
G - 717w
The attendants were mostly older than him; men with cigars, dripping jewellery clinking against crystal cognac glasses.
» Set in 1920's New York.
The theatre wasn't as full as it probably could have been. The attendants were mostly older than him; men with cigars, dripping jewellery clinking against crystal cognac glasses. Kibum was bored, but after greeting some friends backstage, he decided the brightly lit murmur of the hall was better than the overflowing atmosphere behind the curtain.
A few women had already flashed red-rimmed smiles his way during the course of his night, some with the knowledge of who Kibum was, even less knowing where he came from, all of them Kibum had turned down. He was waiting for a friend, he didn't smoke, his suit was tailored, yes.
By the time Jaejin arrived Kibum had already picked all the paint from under his fingernails. He looked dashing, but there was hardly a time when Jaejin wasn't, he was born flawless yet foolhardy- Kibum supposed it came in the package of being the son of a successful stock broker. No, he was more interested in the man he brought with him, this art enthusiast and potential patron, the man who Jaejin said could buy off Kibum's entire collection with the cash in his back pocket. Kibum wondered what they were whispering about.
The women craned their necks towards them as Jaejin and company spotted Kibum, approaching him. "I'm sorry, we ran into some issues with the luggage," was the first thing he said as soon as they were close enough. "Did you wait long?"
Kibum stood up and waved off Jaejin's question, instead giving the man beside him a sweeping once-over. Black on black, spotless suit, hair cropped short enough to be formal, but long enough to be mussed in the city smog. The man stared back with the same kind of nervous curiosity the others usually did until Jaejin cleared his throat.
"Kibum, this is Dongwoon Son," Jaejin enunciated, the way he always did when Kibum wasn't listening. "Dongwoon, this is your painter, Kibum Kim," and because Kibum had known Jaejin since their tongues were trained with Korean syllables, he caught the amusement in his tone, which Kibum ignored in favour of offering Dongwoon Son a calculated smile.
"Nice to meet you," Kibum offered, extending his hand.
"Ah, yes, you too, I've heard a lot about you," Dongwoon startled, devastatingly handsome, with the clumsiness to match. Kibum noticed his English was laced with Korean and was surprised to find his handshake was firm and his fingers cold, and he had to wonder what kind of tailcoat business Dongwoon had in America, because he was surely too young to be making do for himself.
Jaejin tapped his foot and clipped a cigar behind him, eyes darting to the side. "So I'll just be... there." He pointed in the direction of the stage. Kibum didn't hesitate to send him off.
"Yeah, yeah, your flavour of the month is backstage," he quipped, "the cold blooded one in fishnets and tussles."
Jaejin coughed into his fist suddenly and nodded, widening his eyes at Kibum and waving to Dongwoon. "Right. I'll be back, then," he said, before heading to the backstage entrance.
Dongwoon turned back to Kibum once the billow of Jaejin's coat was lost in the crowd. "You talk like you two are close."
"He's the reason I'm here," Kibum shrugged halfheartedly.
"Oh?"
There was something slightly awkward about Dongwoon's gait, which Kibum couldn't help but like. New York was kind to them. There was a time when Kibum would be forced to respect his elders and care for his minors, but the line blurred when he first arrived here, steam and skyscrapers. Entertainment and self indulgence was what this place taught him, and Dongwoon reminded Kibum of how young they really were.
"I owe a lot to him."
Dongwoon's silence was reflective, and then he swiped two champagne flutes from a passing waitress. "To Jaejin Lee, then," and Kibum raised his eyebrows, only pausing when Dongwoon said, "For bringing me to you."
It took Kibum by surprise. The line was horribly greasy and Dongwoon ruined what little worth it had by fidgeting when Kibum didn't respond, and Kibum wasn't sure what he meant by it, but hell, he toasted it anyway because if he wasn't getting a business deal out of this, getting one Dongwoon Son didn't sound too bad either.
Dongwoon/Key
G - 717w
The attendants were mostly older than him; men with cigars, dripping jewellery clinking against crystal cognac glasses.
» Set in 1920's New York.
The theatre wasn't as full as it probably could have been. The attendants were mostly older than him; men with cigars, dripping jewellery clinking against crystal cognac glasses. Kibum was bored, but after greeting some friends backstage, he decided the brightly lit murmur of the hall was better than the overflowing atmosphere behind the curtain.
A few women had already flashed red-rimmed smiles his way during the course of his night, some with the knowledge of who Kibum was, even less knowing where he came from, all of them Kibum had turned down. He was waiting for a friend, he didn't smoke, his suit was tailored, yes.
By the time Jaejin arrived Kibum had already picked all the paint from under his fingernails. He looked dashing, but there was hardly a time when Jaejin wasn't, he was born flawless yet foolhardy- Kibum supposed it came in the package of being the son of a successful stock broker. No, he was more interested in the man he brought with him, this art enthusiast and potential patron, the man who Jaejin said could buy off Kibum's entire collection with the cash in his back pocket. Kibum wondered what they were whispering about.
The women craned their necks towards them as Jaejin and company spotted Kibum, approaching him. "I'm sorry, we ran into some issues with the luggage," was the first thing he said as soon as they were close enough. "Did you wait long?"
Kibum stood up and waved off Jaejin's question, instead giving the man beside him a sweeping once-over. Black on black, spotless suit, hair cropped short enough to be formal, but long enough to be mussed in the city smog. The man stared back with the same kind of nervous curiosity the others usually did until Jaejin cleared his throat.
"Kibum, this is Dongwoon Son," Jaejin enunciated, the way he always did when Kibum wasn't listening. "Dongwoon, this is your painter, Kibum Kim," and because Kibum had known Jaejin since their tongues were trained with Korean syllables, he caught the amusement in his tone, which Kibum ignored in favour of offering Dongwoon Son a calculated smile.
"Nice to meet you," Kibum offered, extending his hand.
"Ah, yes, you too, I've heard a lot about you," Dongwoon startled, devastatingly handsome, with the clumsiness to match. Kibum noticed his English was laced with Korean and was surprised to find his handshake was firm and his fingers cold, and he had to wonder what kind of tailcoat business Dongwoon had in America, because he was surely too young to be making do for himself.
Jaejin tapped his foot and clipped a cigar behind him, eyes darting to the side. "So I'll just be... there." He pointed in the direction of the stage. Kibum didn't hesitate to send him off.
"Yeah, yeah, your flavour of the month is backstage," he quipped, "the cold blooded one in fishnets and tussles."
Jaejin coughed into his fist suddenly and nodded, widening his eyes at Kibum and waving to Dongwoon. "Right. I'll be back, then," he said, before heading to the backstage entrance.
Dongwoon turned back to Kibum once the billow of Jaejin's coat was lost in the crowd. "You talk like you two are close."
"He's the reason I'm here," Kibum shrugged halfheartedly.
"Oh?"
There was something slightly awkward about Dongwoon's gait, which Kibum couldn't help but like. New York was kind to them. There was a time when Kibum would be forced to respect his elders and care for his minors, but the line blurred when he first arrived here, steam and skyscrapers. Entertainment and self indulgence was what this place taught him, and Dongwoon reminded Kibum of how young they really were.
"I owe a lot to him."
Dongwoon's silence was reflective, and then he swiped two champagne flutes from a passing waitress. "To Jaejin Lee, then," and Kibum raised his eyebrows, only pausing when Dongwoon said, "For bringing me to you."
It took Kibum by surprise. The line was horribly greasy and Dongwoon ruined what little worth it had by fidgeting when Kibum didn't respond, and Kibum wasn't sure what he meant by it, but hell, he toasted it anyway because if he wasn't getting a business deal out of this, getting one Dongwoon Son didn't sound too bad either.