Branded [1/2]
Title: Branded
Fandom: SHINee
Disclaimer: I do not own SHINee
Character(s)/Pairing(s): Kim Jonghyun, girl!Kim Gwiboon (Kim Gwiboon)/JongKey
Word(s): 11.591 words
Genre(s): romance, genderbend, a failed attemp in fashion.
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Two people, desperately in love, or just sexually frustrated. Kim Jonghyun is a shortie experienced in high end fashion and Kim Gwiboon is a model branded from head to the toe. Jonghyun wishes for nothing but to brand her.
A/N: Part of my fashion!verse Jongkey fic. I don’t think I can write anything about the two of them without remembering that Key is a fashionista and I feel compelled to write about it. I stacked volumes after volumes of Elle beside me as I wrote, for references and whatnot. It helped me a lot even though I had to spend five minutes to decide what I would put into the story. I never expected this to be this long, I initially planned this to be 8k wc but somehow, it turned out into 11k wc. Quite surprising, actually, remembering how I had sacked stories after stories before finally settling with this one. And i had to put this into two entries because LJ won't let me ;___;
If you wanted to see what Gwiboon/Gwiboon was wearing or using, you can always use google or tumblr. Aside from Elle, they were my resource, especially Balmain because Elle is somehow lacking of them. Such a shame because their military themed attires were awesome. The song that influenced me while writing this are; Flesh, Super Psycho Love, Joystick, and Brainwash, all of them by Simon Curtis.
I fail at writing smut, don't mention it.
-
She smells like fuschia, peony, and geranium. Enveloped with freshness of pear d’anjou. This teasing and flirtatious scent that symbolizes a woman with high confidence, woman who identifies herself as sexy and fun. Jonghyun doesn’t have to think twice to know that she’s wearing Lola by Marc Jacobs.
It suits her, suits her Christian Loubutin Marry Jane platform heels, suits her black Balmain military jacket, suits her Diane von Furstenberg bubble dress, and her MAC covered makeup. She looks nothing like Anne Hathaway and far outcry from Kate Moss (because she is not all limbs and bones); she is no Gisele Bundchen as well. She reminds him or Paris Hilton except this one is not just a pretty face. KimGwiboon is Karoline Kurkova with Coco Rocha’s personality.
She is bold, witty, and smart. She has a room in her apartment dedicated for her wardrobe and a cabinet full of perfumes. Her dresser was filled with Lancome last month but is now full with Shu Uemura. She comes to work today with Mulberry reddish orange patent tote bag and came with Etro’s green bag yesterday.
Kim Gwiboon is branded, from head to the toe; from her Bobbi Brown cleansing oil to her Kiehl’s rice shampoo.
Not that Jonghyun blames her. She started her modeling career when Jonghyun was busy contemplating what to do with his life. His mother urged him to follow her career as fashion editor and his father asked him to continue his retail business. In the end, Jonghyun followed her mother’s request and his noona followed his father’s. Both jobs are not so different with each other; they’re dealing with same kind of customer and in the same field of fashion. Only that Jonghyun has more chance to touch the gentle and finely tailored dress of Marchesa and unique pattern on Alexander McQueen’s platform heels, while her sister is facing charts and numbers.
Before Jonghyun even decided where he would continue his study, Kim Gwiboon, at the age of fifteen, debuted as another face in fashion magazine. But it doesn’t last long; her quirky attitude and expressiveness attracted many fashion peers’ attention. Her debut in international fashion scene was as the face of H&M. Two years later, he walked for many shows like Lanvin, Dior, Fendi, and Moschino. She secured her title as Korean supermodel at the age of eighteen, coming home to receive many praises and love. She graduated from high school and never continues her study, deciding that her career has been settled. If she wasn’t a model, she will make her own fashion line, or that’s what she said in an interview.
His first meeting with Gwiboon was short and brief, but the impression she left on him was anything but that. Dressed in Gucci’s little black dress, feet clad in Givenchy’s lace up ankle boots, her midnight blue mascara and bold red lips were accentuated with the strong scent of Vera Wang’s Rock Princess.
He didn’t need anyone to tell him that Kim Gwiboon is attractive. And material girl has never been this attractive in Jonghyun’s eyes.
She is like a cat, playful and hard to get. The second time they met was in Elle Style award. Gwiboon was dressed in Chloe’s pastel colored strapless dress and John Galliano’s patent leather pumps. Her face bore almost zero trace of makeup, safe for the lightest touch of foundation and soft pink lipstick. Even her bare face seemed to radiate the whole room.
Jonghyun was truly mesmerized. His eyes followed Gwiboon her; from the moment she stepped out from the car, her red carpet moment where she struck grand total of twenty five different poses for the cameras, until she sat directly across him.
“Kim Jonghyun, right?” She addressed him with a smile, making Jonghyun felt like he was strangled by his red and black stripped tie. “That famous young and talented Kim Jonghyun, right?”
That voice, that voice that made him undone. How Jonghyun wished to record it and set it as his ringtone, her voice spelling his name. He did not know what kind of impression he left on her when they first met, but he was willing to raise his value in front of her. He is the famous Kim Jonghyun not only for his talent, but also for his look.
“Yeah, I am that famous young and talented Kim Jonghyun. I like your perfume, by the way, Attimo?”
Kibum didn’t act like a modest girl who covers her mouth with her hand when she laughed, she didn’t even try to lower her volume when she did. She was just how the magazine described her; fast and free, everything about her was boundless and with no limit, she was restrained by nothing and nothing can restrain her. She was the girl of her own. She was branded but no one branded her.
How tempting, Jonghyun licked his lower lip.
“And you, did you wear that one just to impress me? I’m totally in for Burberry, you know,” her feline like eyes shone with mirth. Jonghyun liked her eyes, very much.
“No, I do not know, I’m sorry. But I’m pleased to know that you like how I smell, darling,” he drawled the last part, grinning as he did so.
Gwiboon arched her elegant brows and curled the corner of her lips upward, looking amused and utterly beautiful. “Why, of course, Honey. I think I like you already.”
Jonghyun’s heart skipped a beat at that. He liked to hear her called him that; honey. It sounded so sensual, so suave, coming from her kissable lips and directed at him, only him.
“I like you too,” Jonghyun said, leaning forward and let his fringe fell over his right eyes. “Guess the feelings are mutual.”
It’s not that Jonghyun forgot that they’re not the only person sitting around the table, it’s not that he forgot he was in one of the biggest annual event of the year, it’s not that he forgot there are cameras surrounding them and ready to capture each and every moment, it’s not that he forgot there were people around them, ears more than willing to listen to whatever conversation they had; it’s just he didn’t care about everything else but Kim , who was looking at him with those pair of chocolate brown eyes, framed with long brown lashes.
“I’m glad they are,” Gwiboon said with a small (teasing, sexy, playful, frustratingly tempting) smile.
Jonghyun spent the whole night staring at the incarnation of Cleopatra, or Aphrodite, or whoever goddess that claimed the title of the fairest, completely bewitched by her beauty.
Their third meeting was in Milan Fashion Week. Jonghyun had been invited for Salvatore Ferragamo and Gwiboon was one of the models walking for the show. When Gwiboon came out, Jonghyun could only stare at her face. He totally forgot to inspect her attires, giving comments like how he should. Instead, his attention was fixated on Gwiboon’s high cheekbones, Gwiboon’s passionate eyes, Gwiboon’s lips. And it didn’t help him at all that Gwiboon walked two times, still mesmerizing Jonghyun even on her second walk.
Right after the show ended, Jonghyun waited patiently until the model came out. His knitted gray cardigan protected him from the slightly chilly breeze of February. But he still felt cold because the collar of his shirt was hanging low, exposing half of his chest while still hiding the sight of his nipples. Jonghyun didn’t miss the way people; men and women alike, looked at him. He knew he looked dashing, he always did, he was the kind of person who could make anything he wore looked good. Some people took a picture of him and some other interviewed him. A reporter from Fashion TV had come to him for an interview, that one for certain.
He could have been a model if only he was ten centimeter taller. His body was sculpted from regular visit to gym and balanced diet, his strong and defined jaw was envied by many of his friends, and his expressive eyes only made him more alluring.
But no matter how handsome he was, he felt like he could never come on par with Kim Gwiboon. She was on whole different level altogether.
“Am I dreaming or is that you, Kim Jonghyun?” He heard someone gasped and he didn’t need to look to know who it was. Sure enough, it was, looking good in yellow drapery dress and red ballerina flats. Her curly chocolate hair was framing her perfect (flawless, unblemished, naturally beautiful) face. There was trace of bags under her eyes but she managed to conceal them although not completely. She looked tired, not surprising remembering the numbers of show she had to walk this season.
“Maybe you’re just dreaming about me, Kim Gwiboon,” he grinned, revealing a set of pearly white teeth that he was so proud of. “Didn’t you do it, dreaming of me?”
She hit him playfully with her blue bag; Celine Luggage, Jonghyun noted. He could go and named the brand of her attires one by one (like he usually did), but he was too focused on seeing the pout on her face for the very first time. It’s as if the supermodel was gone, replaced with normal girl who dreamed of becoming a princess and waited for her prince charming. God, could Kim Gwiboon be any more beautiful?
“I wouldn’t dream of just anyone, you know. Mom told me that if someone appeared in my dream, then that someone is someone important for me.” Her reason didn’t make sense, but Jonghyun had thrown away his ability of making sense when it came to.
It’s cute (not almost cute) to see the girl who walked on thirteen centimeter heels talking about what her mother told her. It occurred to Jonghyun that Gwiboon might not be as mature as media dubbed her to be. There was still this pure and innocent Gwiboon left somewhere within the young talented model and Jonghyun was lucky enough to get a glimpse of it. The thought excited him more than seeing the new collection of Armani. It took his heart on a ride to know that Gwiboon was willing to show him a part of her that she never showed anyone.
She was known for being independent not childish, but the girl in front of him now looked more like the latter than the former, but she was still Kim . The mischievous glint was still there, the feline eyes were still there; the brands were still there, adorning her and flourishing her.
“Then I wish I will appear in you dream,” Jonghyun said, voice half husky like how he meant it to be. He lowered his head and tilted it aside in certain angle that made him more attractive. Gwiboon’s eyes widened a fraction but she didn’t pull her face back, she didn’t blush like the other girls. Instead, she frowned at him, lips still pouting. “Are you hitting on me?” Jonghyun chuckled, using his forefinger; he tapped her on the forehead. “Yes, I Am.”
Did he ever mention that Gwiboon’s laugh was the music to his ears? If he hadn’t, then he said it now; it’s the most beautiful sound he has ever heard in his whole life.
“What are you doing here, Jjong? Coming from Seoul just to hit me?” Gwiboon asked, rubbing her forehead lightly with her fingers.
Jonghyun raised his brows at this. On instinct, his larger palm covered Gwiboon’s hand. He looked at the younger girl with concern, “Are you okay? I didn’t really hurt you, did I? It’s just a tap of finger, how could it hurt? Oh god, please don’t tell me that it actually hurt. Damn, I’m going to die; I just ruined your face.”
The horrified look on his face made Gwiboon laughed again, Jonghyun noticed how she didn’t make an attempt to remove Jonghyun’s hand from her own. It’s as if she was letting him touching her and the thought made Jonghyun’s already skipping heartbeat to jump merrily. Being in close proximity with her like this was seriously not good for his heart. He swore if Gwiboon came closer, he could have received a heart attack.
This also allowed him to recognize her fragrance, refreshing scent of citrus, not too strong and almost gentle. “Do you notice we’re wearing matching perfume?” He asked, not quite looking at her eyes (in fear of displaying his passion for her).
She sniffed, Kim Gwiboon actually sniffed him and Jonghyun thought he could die happy (god, he was such a fanboy). She curled her lips upward in that playful smile of her, looking at Jonghyun’s eyes (daring and baring), “Didn’t you change your perfume?”
“What if I said I didn’t change it because I know you like it?” He countered while wiggling his brows.
‘Dear Kim Gwiboon, I love you and would you please stop making me undone?’ Jonghyun thought when Gwiboon leaned in to him, head almost falling on Jonghyun’s shoulder, making Jonghyun shuddered and rendering him immobile.
She tilted her lowered head the same way Jonghyun tilted his head and angled it to a very same position. “Why don’t you just say that you came here for me?”
If Jonghyun lacked self-control, he would have crashed his lips with Gwiboon’s, but (sadly) he possessed necessary amount of them, so he kept himself at bay. Damn, Kim Gwiboon had just used his own trick on him and she did it with perfect score. Even better than himself if he was honest. “What if I said so?”
Gwiboon kept their eyes locked; Jonghyun thought there was no need for her to do that because he couldn’t even tear his gaze away from her. “Then I’m honored,” she whispered, voice lowering an octave, or was it just his imagination?
“Oh,” he muttered dumbly. “Thank you.”
The instant Gwiboon pulled herself away from him, the instant Jonghyun felt the loss of Gwiboon’s skin under his palm; he felt cold. She looked around before glancing at Jonghyun from the corner of her cat-like eyes, small smirk on her face. Only then Jonghyun realized where they were, within crowds of people and surrounded by cameras. He flushed slightly and scratched the back of his head, looking down at his shoes.
“Well, Honey, do you want to go anywhere because I’m feeling a little bit hungry.” Once again, Kim Gwiboon had done her magic on him, pushing the right button to make him feel like he’s losing control of himself.
“I, okay, fine with me. We eat then, okay.” Jonghyun felt silly but he still couldn’t wrap his finger around his mind, did she just call him ‘Honey’?
’s laugh was clear and laugh like a bell, it reverberated inside Jonghyun’s ears. She then grabbed the sleeve of his cardigan, pulling him with her. “Come on, then. I know the right place to eat. They served the best pasta and pizza, their Spaghetti alle Vongole Bianco is to die for, you must try it.”
Jonghyun followed her like a lost puppy. He knew he could have taken Gwiboon’s hand and laced their fingers together but maybe he was too cowardice to do so. Instead, he let her pulled him all the way to the restaurant.
The place was cozy and homey. All furniture was made from woods and the wall was built from red bricks. A classical music was playing in the background, making everyone who came to visit at ease. The waitress welcomed them with a warm smile on her red-freckled face then she guided them to a table by a large window. Jonghyun couldn’t speak Italian so he let Gwiboon do all the talk. He asked her about the menu and she explained it to him with edge of impatience. Jonghyun knew she was just teasing him so he played along, dragging his voice and contemplating a little bit longer than needed.
In the end, they settled with pizza di mare and two servings of Spaghetti that Gwiboon recommended him. Two cup of cappuccino accompanied their lunch (brunch on Gwiboon’s part). They didn’t immediately start another conversation. Jonghyun yawned and leant back to his chair, slipping down a little. Gwiboon folded one hand on the table and used the other to support her chin. Together, they watched the bustling street of Milan. Lots of people came and go, each of them dressed in different clothes and attires. Jonghyun absentmindedly made a mental note of what they wore, trying to find one red line that connected them to decipher the current trend.
“Say, what do you think of me?” Gwiboon suddenly asked out of the blue.
If Jonghyun had been drinking, he would have choked and spilled his drink on the table. Thankfully, he was not so he could save himself from embarrassment. “I’m sorry, what did you say? I was too busy identifying the brand of her bag?” he pointed at random people as if to make his point.
Gwiboon didn’t seem to care as she kept on looking outside, a distant look on her face. “Do you think I did well? Walking there?”
Jonghyun tried to remember if this really was the third time he met Kim Gwiboon face to face and the second time he talked directly to her. Because a girl like Gwiboon, a girl who was so confident of herself did not just reveal her insecurity to anyone. But here she was, asking Jonghyun’s opinion about herself; ‘Do you think I did well?’ There was so much more held in that one question, Jonghyun knew.
Modeling was not as easy as it looked like, it’s demanding, it’s stressing, it’s frustrating, it’s changing, and one wrong step, you could lose everything. Being Asian just made it a little bit harder, true that lately, Asian model has been earning more attention. Model like Okamoto Tao was the example. But not every Asian could make it to the big and competitive world of fashion. There are many pretty faces out there to replace you when you’re not good enough. And Gwiboon was young, still young when she stepped into the seemingly glamorous world. She lived alone independently, missing the time she could have enjoyed with comforting presence of friends and family. Such insecurity was actually normal, but this insecure side of her was overshadowed by her top model personality.
“Jjong,” Gwiboon called, almost making Jonghyun fell from his chair because she had just called him with a fucking nickname; Jjong. Was he dreaming? This was too good to be true. First, he and Gwiboon were flirting with each other. Second, Kim Gwiboonm had let him see her insecurities. Third, Kim Gwiboon had called him with pet names; honey and now Jjong? If this was dream, he wouldn’t want to wake up, not now and not ever. “Are you even listening to me?”
“100 % positive I’m only listening to you, “he straightened his position on chair. Gwiboonm gave him a cross look but it was gone when she saw the serious look on Jonghyun’s face. “You were asking me about my opinion about you, right?”
Gwiboon nodded and Jonghyun wished to recite his feelings for her; how she mesmerized him and how he despised him for doing so. But that was not the answer that Gwiboon wanted to know, she didn’t ask him about his feelings, she asked him about his opinion on her job. It was something completely professional and far from personal.
“Mmm, what do you think?”
You’re perfect. “I’ve seen many models on runaways and believe me, you outdid yourself.”
Gwiboon looked confusedly at him, “Is it supposed to be a good thing?”
It is, you damn tease. “I meant to say you did better than you expected yourself to be which means you’re doing it fabulously,” he claimed with wide grin, chin rising on the air. “Trust me, not everyone could do what you do.”
She still look unsure, Jonghyun could tell from the way she wasn’t looking at him but outside at the throng of people. Suddenly, Jonghyun felt like he had known Gwiboon for such a long time. Like this girl had been a part of his life, someone he could always figure out. Kim Gwiboon was not vulnerable but she could be when she wanted, she could be when she wished to. How true it was then, no one ruled her but herself. She could be anything she wanted and no one could make her do it but herself.
Jonghyun reached out across the table to touch her knuckle but his hand stopped somewhere before his fingertip could even graze his skin. Coward, he hissed mentally to himself. “Hey, what’s with this sudden mood swing? Where is the cool cat that conquered the runaway just an hour ago?”
Gwiboon’s gaze flickered to him, the corner of herself pulled into a small smile. “Cool cat? Who?”
“I don’t know,” he drawled, “I heard the name is Kim Gwiboon.”
“She is not a cool cat,” Gwiboon said, all hint of vulnerability and insecurity was gone from her face. They’re replaced with daring expression that made Jonghyun swallowed thickly, “she is one naughty and sexy cat.”
“Sexy? Yeah, right.” Jonghyun snorted, hoping that his voice wasn’t shaky like his trembling legs. Damn Kim Gwiboon and her, her everything (her eyes, her lips, her nose, her voice, her smile, her smirk).Gwiboon “More like haughty cat.”
Gwiboon laughed, eyes disappearing into half-moon as the corners crinkled. “Sexy, naughty, haughty? I like that.”
And Jonghyun liked it, too. He couldn’t find three words that could describe Gwiboon better than these; sexy, naughty, and haughty? Not that Gwiboon was overly arrogant bitch but sometimes, that was the impression she left on other people. Especially with all brands she wore on her. The sexy and naughty part was unquestionable, it’s as clear as day that she was sexy and she obviously was naughty if her playful attitude was any indication.
The newly settling comfort was accompanied with pasta and pizza later. Gwiboon ate much, surprisingly. She didn’t act like anorexic girl who pushed her food around the plate. She ate as much as Jonghyun did and Jonghyun was impressed. If anything, he was anti-anorexia. Despite her appetite, Gwiboon said she was neutral about the issue. She wasn’t against anorexia but she wasn’t supporting it either.
“It’s a matter of choice,” she twirled the spaghetti around the fork. “Sometimes I’m a bit of anorexic, not wanting to eat because I’m worrying too much about my weight. But when I’m faced with sinfully delicious food like this, I’d say; the hell with diet, I’m not missing this.”
Jonghyun decided that just because she was Gwiboon, he was okay with her neutral position. If she was just anyone, just any other model who was not Gwiboon, he’d start lecturing them about the importance of balanced diet and exercise as the main weapon for making ideal body.
They divided the bill equally, Gwiboon paid half and Jonghyun paid another half. The two of them walked together, talking about random things until they had to separate ways. There was no goodbye kiss, only casual and friendly hug and Gwiboon was gone, leaving Jonghyun to stare at her back (not her ass. But, okay, maybe her ass, too). Later that night as he lied on his bed, Jonghyun could only think of Gwiboon before he drifted into sleep.
-
They didn’t meet each other anymore because Gwiboon was busy flying from one country to another for various runaways and fashion weeks. Jonghyun had his own job to take care of, working as an apprentice of his own genetic mother was far from easy. She was much more demanding, apparently because he was her son, therefore, she knew of what he was capable of.
It was only when Gwiboon came to their studio for photo-shoot that two of them met again.
It was his routine to check on her attire; Raoul orange mini dress, dark brown stocking that teased Jonghyun with the display of skin, mocha colored vintage blazer, and Marc Jacob’s suede and leather lace up booties.
He immediately crossed the studio in long strides, only stopping when she was at arm length. He was more than pleased to smell the very same citrusy scent on her that smelt so much like his own. “Matching perfume again? I swear, Gwiboon-ah, sometimes I think you’re falling for me,” he teased.
Her only response was a chuckle and roll of her eyes. She lightly pushed him on the shoulder and walked past him, muttering something like; ‘in your dream’. He took no offense to that, he knew her; she was just being her, playing hard to get. It excited him a little, was Kim Gwiboon really, really playing hard to get or she was really hard to get? He hoped it was the former than the latter, it would make everything easier.
They didn’t waste their time; or rather, Gwiboon didn’t. After greeting almost all staffs, she quickly sat in front of dressing mirror and let the makeup artists did the wonder on his face. The editor in the making stole secret glances toward her while helping the stylist coordinating the attires. Actually, there was no need for him to come today. The only reason why he came was because he wanted to see Gwiboon, meet her again.
Princess soldier was the theme for that day. He made sure he had all stock necessary, carefully selecting clothes after clothes, pants after pants, skirts after skirts, shoes after shoes, even the accessories. After a long discussion about what to wear with what, they finally came with into an agreement about the outfits that Gwiboon was going to wear.
The first outfit was D&G leather jacket on top of Blumarine green dress, the outfit was completed with black MiuMiu boots. Gwiboon struck different poses in front of camera, from simply standing there to looking intimidating just by raising her chin high. Jonghyun almost choked when she lifted her skirt a little, revealing more of her thighs. The next outfit was simpler; a black jacket with puffy skirt and golden-double buttons detail, See by Chloe’s buckle detailed flat boots followed in order.
Burberry aviator jacket and fur-buckled detailed boots were mandatory. So did Moschino’s black satin hat and Balmain’s Military jacket. Five outfits later and Gwiboon was ready for the eight and the last outfit. She was dressed in Louis Vuitton from head to the toe. Red jacket with black Peter Pan collars (over nothing), black shorts that left almost nothing to imagine, and neon red platform boots. She also wore gloves but something was wrong. Jonghyun frowned, trying to find what he was missing, or maybe something that didn’t belong there.
It didn’t take long for him to find what he was looking for. “Gwiboon!” He called. The girl’s hair was tied into tight braids that fell down her back like second spine, her feline features were accentuated with cat eyes makeup and her plump lips are painted blood red, she was so seductive in his already seduced eyes. “Come here.”
Jonghyun didn’t prepare himself for this, not at all; Gwiboon walked to him like a predatory to its prey, her steps were definite, her eyes locked straight at him, and she emitted an air of superiority. She was as graceful and as regal as a Queen, yet she possessed the strength of a soldier. “What is it, Jjong?”
“You forget this,” he said, putting a red cabbie hat over her head. Gwiboon glared at him from beneath the cap and Jonghyun thought this was perfect; she was perfect. “Now, you may go, soldier.”
Gwiboon smirked for a fleeting minute before immediately replacing them with tight line of her lips and saluted Jonghyun. “Sir, Yes, Sir!”
Jonghyun suddenly developed an urge to take those gloved hands in his and take her right here and there. But he and Gwiboon had been a talk for quite sometimes after their meeting in Milan; apparently, a photographer had recognized the two of them and happily took a picture when Jonghyun had her hand on Gwiboon’s forehead. His mother had looked at him, only a little bit disapprovingly, but didn’t say anything. His father didn’t know about this and his sister wouldn’t stop bothering him about it.
Gwiboon was standing still, waiting until the staffs were ready with her closed eyes. Jonghyun thought she looked right like that; completely branded but there was on brand missing from her; his brand. When the photographer gave her the cue, she immediately snapped them open and such single action made a scorching heat settled in Jonghyun’s stomach.
She put her hand on her hips, ran one down to her supple thigh, she touched her cap, and took it off, biting it between her teeth. She kneeled down while spreading her legs open, one hand putting cap back and another one was between her thighs. Twenty poses later and the cameras were still snapping, everyone’s eyes were still on her. It was as if she had commanded them to pay attention to her and her alone.
But Jonghyun knew no one felt like their whole body was on fire like he did. He was not going to lie but she turned him out, thankfully, he had been lazy to take his trench coat off so he was saved from humiliation.
The last pose almost had him undone; almost. Gwiboon sat on red velvet couch, her long legs were crossed and her gloved fingers laced together in front of her. She wasn’t sitting straight but a little bit sagged. Her head was leaning on her seat and turned a little, to the left, right where Jonghyun was standing and watching with rounded eyes. She opened her mouth a little and smirked like she knew what she was doing to him. For God’s sake, he knew she knew that she had him wrapped around her perfectly manicured fingers.
“Yep, done! Perfect, Gwiboon, you’re fabulous!” The photographer called with booming voice, he was looking so enthusiastic when he approached Gwiboon to shake her hands and Jonghyun felt suddenly possessive. He quickly strode to where she was; sitting on the couch like a fucking queen and everyone was showering her with words of gratitude and compliments.
“Hey, Soldier,” Jonghyun felt thrilled when Gwiboon lazily turned to look at him like a cat. He put on a crooked smile and offered his hand to her. “Good job.”
Gwiboon regarded him with half closed lidded eyes and an amused smile. When she raised her hand, people might thing she was going to shake his hand, but somehow Jonghyun knew that wasn’t what she wanted. He took her hand in his and the other hand soon followed, Jonghyun pulled her up until they’re standing eye to eye and she was just few inches apart from him. “Thank you,” Gwiboon paused, eyes flickering to his lips before continuing. “Jjong.”
Praised his self-control because Jonghyun didn’t surrender to the need to kiss her senseless and mark her; brand her as his. He was careful not to let his voice shake too much when he answered her, “You’re welcome.”
Gwiboon let go of his hand and walked passed him like how she walked passed him this morning. Jonghyun ignored everyone’s eyes on him; he turned around but didn’t follow her like they expected him to. Instead, he went to check on the pictures, and the rest was routine procedure of selecting the right ones to be posted on the magazine.
He didn’t select the last one, but that one, that one picture of Gwiboon staring at him, went straight to his cellphone’s memory.
-
“Hey, Jjong, are you busy?”
Jonghyun let his jaw dropped at the oh-so familiar voice. He was working on five pages article about nail care that his subordinates (yes, he called them that when he was pissed off) decided to ruin. His mother had heartlessly told him to fix them on his own and forbid anyone to help him. Was Jonghyun livid? Very. He slammed the door to his office close with loud bang that shook the wall and made one frame outside fell with equally loud and dull thud. He had a reason to be because her mother had dumped four other articles which all of them were to be main articles for the next issue. And when was the deadline again? Tomorrow, fucking tomorrow.
That was when his phone suddenly rang, playing Chopin’s Fantasie Impromptu in C-sharp minor. He roared (yes, he did, he was frustrated) and didn’t bother to check the numbers when he answered the call with annoyed yet controlled, “Hello?”
And then he heard her, Kim Gwiboon, asking him if he was busy. Did he ever give her his number? Nope, he didn’t even know hers. How? But, Why? His mind was fogged, totally not clear, and he was lost. He tried to grab on something, anything that would help him making out the situation at hand. Here he was, working his ass off to fix some idiot’s mistakes and his crush, his object of affection and passion was asking him if he was busy.
This was one fucking big fat chance that he had to grab no matter what happen. And if he was anyone, he would have answered her with; ‘No, I’m not. I’m totally free as a bird. What do you need?’ But he was Kim Jonghyun, not just anyone who was stupid and foolish enough to give it all for love. He was Kim Jonghyun and she was Kim Gwiboon, if there was something that Jonghyun knew they shared, then professionalism was one of them.
So, even though he felt like punching himself square on his square face, Jonghyun answered, “No, I am not. My deadline is tomorrow and I still have four, no, five, main articles to work on. So if you don’t mind, would you please kindly close the call right now because I am ready to abuse my computer between tearing my hair out?”
Gwiboon laughed, that girl dared to laugh at his misery. His whole career was on the line, damn it. Well, he knew he was exaggerating but he was frustrated beyond belief. “Why are you laughing? “He angrily snapped.
Gwiboon ceased her laughter with difficulties, muttering apology in between. “Ah, well, okay, I take it you’re busy. I will call you later. Bye.”
Then the line went dead and Jonghyun didn’t waste his time to drop it on the table. He didn’t waste his time mourning over his decision either; because Gwiboon said she will call him later and because he had something to work on. Gwiboon could wait, but deadline could not.
-
Jonghyun slumped on his table, already cleared from the miniature of catastrophe that his table was yesterday and until an hour prior. His bum was sore for sitting so long and his back ached. He smelt horrible, his hair was a mess, his eyes were bloodshot, and he didn’t have energy left to move. He should have gone straight home to take a long shower and sleep like a log, but he couldn’t trust himself going alone. The easiest way was to use cab so he could sleep without missing his destination but he always hated the smell of cabs. Train and buses were out of choice, he would surely sleep until the last stop. The best way was to have someone drive him home, but who?
His phone rang. He didn’t pick it up right away but stared at it for a long time until the tone went dead. The second time it rang, Jonghyun suddenly remembered about someone who called him yesterday and told him she was going to call later. He quickly snatched his phone and picked it up, again, without checking the number. Somehow, he knew who it was on the line.
“Hello?” His voice was scratchy and raspy from exhaustion. He sounded damn pathetic but he didn’t care, he was too drained to impress her.
“I bet you smell as horrible as you sound,” Gwiboon said with mocking voice.
Jonghyun rolled his eyes, slumping further to the desk with loud unattractive yawn. “Yeah, and I’m also sleepy. I was about to fall asleep here on my desk in my office.”
“You didn’t go home yesterday? If you’re silent, I’d take it as a yes.”
Jonghyun didn’t say anything; his eyes were heavy and only Gwiboon’s voice that kept him from falling into deep slumber.
“Oh, poor, my Jjongie. Aren’t you going home?”
A lazy smile crossed his feature, he felt giddy. “Want to but I’m not taking cab because I hate the smell. Can’t take bus or train, will fall asleep.”
Gwiboon made a thinking noise before talking back again, “Say, what if I drove you home?”
Did he need to think twice? “Yeah, come here and take me, drive me home, Gwiboon.”
-
Jonghyun’s face was planted on the desk when Gwiboon arrived. She didn’t immediately wake him up but pulled him to his back instead, this caused her to discover Jonghyun’s habit of sleeping with half-opened say (something that she only stopped bringing up when Jonghyun was no longer affected by her teasing). She spent her sweet time staring at him, or at least he hoped so. The only thing Jonghyun knew was Gwiboon woke him up by shaking his shoulders, very roughly.
“Wha?” Jonghyun asked blearily, his eyes were clouded but he still could see Gwiboon clearly. She had a lopsided smile on her face and her arms were folded together in front of her. “You smelt as bad as you said,” was the first thing she said. Jonghyun merely raised his brows sleepily. “And your hair, even bird nest looked better.”
“Thanks for your insult, I’m flattered,” He deadpanned, raising his head over his head to stretch and yawned loudly. Gwiboon scrunched her nose and how did she manage to still look attractive was beyond comprehension. A lazy grin crossed Jonhyun’s face, he leaned back to the chair and used his feet to swivel it lightly.
“Come one, let’s get you home and clean yourself up,” she pulled him by the arms, urging the other to stand straight. If only his body didn’t feel like it weighed a ton, Jonghyun would like to play a little with her. With a groan, he stood up, careful not to miss his step so he won’t fall on her. Gwiboon eyed him, making Jonghyun felt wonderfully uncomfortable. He was aware of how he looked worse than beggar right now, in front of his crush, no less.
“Well, aren’t you going to take me home?”
She casually slipped her hand to his arms and dragged him outside his office, doing all that without saying anything. Jonghyun was utterly, utterly, embarrassed. He came out of his room, looking like a disaster and Korean number one supermodel was dragging him by the arm. All eyes immediately turned to them; everyone halted their activities to watch the editor apprentice being led by the arms. Jonghyun weakly shook his head, opening and closing his mouth like a fish out of water before Gwiboon commented out loud, “We will get you to the bath first and the bed later.”
Jonghyun could only loll his head backward, trying not to think about how he’d have to deal with this tomorrow.
part 2
Fandom: SHINee
Disclaimer: I do not own SHINee
Character(s)/Pairing(s): Kim Jonghyun, girl!Kim Gwiboon (Kim Gwiboon)/JongKey
Word(s): 11.591 words
Genre(s): romance, genderbend, a failed attemp in fashion.
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Two people, desperately in love, or just sexually frustrated. Kim Jonghyun is a shortie experienced in high end fashion and Kim Gwiboon is a model branded from head to the toe. Jonghyun wishes for nothing but to brand her.
A/N: Part of my fashion!verse Jongkey fic. I don’t think I can write anything about the two of them without remembering that Key is a fashionista and I feel compelled to write about it. I stacked volumes after volumes of Elle beside me as I wrote, for references and whatnot. It helped me a lot even though I had to spend five minutes to decide what I would put into the story. I never expected this to be this long, I initially planned this to be 8k wc but somehow, it turned out into 11k wc. Quite surprising, actually, remembering how I had sacked stories after stories before finally settling with this one. And i had to put this into two entries because LJ won't let me ;___;
If you wanted to see what Gwiboon/Gwiboon was wearing or using, you can always use google or tumblr. Aside from Elle, they were my resource, especially Balmain because Elle is somehow lacking of them. Such a shame because their military themed attires were awesome. The song that influenced me while writing this are; Flesh, Super Psycho Love, Joystick, and Brainwash, all of them by Simon Curtis.
I fail at writing smut, don't mention it.
-
She smells like fuschia, peony, and geranium. Enveloped with freshness of pear d’anjou. This teasing and flirtatious scent that symbolizes a woman with high confidence, woman who identifies herself as sexy and fun. Jonghyun doesn’t have to think twice to know that she’s wearing Lola by Marc Jacobs.
It suits her, suits her Christian Loubutin Marry Jane platform heels, suits her black Balmain military jacket, suits her Diane von Furstenberg bubble dress, and her MAC covered makeup. She looks nothing like Anne Hathaway and far outcry from Kate Moss (because she is not all limbs and bones); she is no Gisele Bundchen as well. She reminds him or Paris Hilton except this one is not just a pretty face. KimGwiboon is Karoline Kurkova with Coco Rocha’s personality.
She is bold, witty, and smart. She has a room in her apartment dedicated for her wardrobe and a cabinet full of perfumes. Her dresser was filled with Lancome last month but is now full with Shu Uemura. She comes to work today with Mulberry reddish orange patent tote bag and came with Etro’s green bag yesterday.
Kim Gwiboon is branded, from head to the toe; from her Bobbi Brown cleansing oil to her Kiehl’s rice shampoo.
Not that Jonghyun blames her. She started her modeling career when Jonghyun was busy contemplating what to do with his life. His mother urged him to follow her career as fashion editor and his father asked him to continue his retail business. In the end, Jonghyun followed her mother’s request and his noona followed his father’s. Both jobs are not so different with each other; they’re dealing with same kind of customer and in the same field of fashion. Only that Jonghyun has more chance to touch the gentle and finely tailored dress of Marchesa and unique pattern on Alexander McQueen’s platform heels, while her sister is facing charts and numbers.
Before Jonghyun even decided where he would continue his study, Kim Gwiboon, at the age of fifteen, debuted as another face in fashion magazine. But it doesn’t last long; her quirky attitude and expressiveness attracted many fashion peers’ attention. Her debut in international fashion scene was as the face of H&M. Two years later, he walked for many shows like Lanvin, Dior, Fendi, and Moschino. She secured her title as Korean supermodel at the age of eighteen, coming home to receive many praises and love. She graduated from high school and never continues her study, deciding that her career has been settled. If she wasn’t a model, she will make her own fashion line, or that’s what she said in an interview.
His first meeting with Gwiboon was short and brief, but the impression she left on him was anything but that. Dressed in Gucci’s little black dress, feet clad in Givenchy’s lace up ankle boots, her midnight blue mascara and bold red lips were accentuated with the strong scent of Vera Wang’s Rock Princess.
He didn’t need anyone to tell him that Kim Gwiboon is attractive. And material girl has never been this attractive in Jonghyun’s eyes.
She is like a cat, playful and hard to get. The second time they met was in Elle Style award. Gwiboon was dressed in Chloe’s pastel colored strapless dress and John Galliano’s patent leather pumps. Her face bore almost zero trace of makeup, safe for the lightest touch of foundation and soft pink lipstick. Even her bare face seemed to radiate the whole room.
Jonghyun was truly mesmerized. His eyes followed Gwiboon her; from the moment she stepped out from the car, her red carpet moment where she struck grand total of twenty five different poses for the cameras, until she sat directly across him.
“Kim Jonghyun, right?” She addressed him with a smile, making Jonghyun felt like he was strangled by his red and black stripped tie. “That famous young and talented Kim Jonghyun, right?”
That voice, that voice that made him undone. How Jonghyun wished to record it and set it as his ringtone, her voice spelling his name. He did not know what kind of impression he left on her when they first met, but he was willing to raise his value in front of her. He is the famous Kim Jonghyun not only for his talent, but also for his look.
“Yeah, I am that famous young and talented Kim Jonghyun. I like your perfume, by the way, Attimo?”
Kibum didn’t act like a modest girl who covers her mouth with her hand when she laughed, she didn’t even try to lower her volume when she did. She was just how the magazine described her; fast and free, everything about her was boundless and with no limit, she was restrained by nothing and nothing can restrain her. She was the girl of her own. She was branded but no one branded her.
How tempting, Jonghyun licked his lower lip.
“And you, did you wear that one just to impress me? I’m totally in for Burberry, you know,” her feline like eyes shone with mirth. Jonghyun liked her eyes, very much.
“No, I do not know, I’m sorry. But I’m pleased to know that you like how I smell, darling,” he drawled the last part, grinning as he did so.
Gwiboon arched her elegant brows and curled the corner of her lips upward, looking amused and utterly beautiful. “Why, of course, Honey. I think I like you already.”
Jonghyun’s heart skipped a beat at that. He liked to hear her called him that; honey. It sounded so sensual, so suave, coming from her kissable lips and directed at him, only him.
“I like you too,” Jonghyun said, leaning forward and let his fringe fell over his right eyes. “Guess the feelings are mutual.”
It’s not that Jonghyun forgot that they’re not the only person sitting around the table, it’s not that he forgot he was in one of the biggest annual event of the year, it’s not that he forgot there are cameras surrounding them and ready to capture each and every moment, it’s not that he forgot there were people around them, ears more than willing to listen to whatever conversation they had; it’s just he didn’t care about everything else but Kim , who was looking at him with those pair of chocolate brown eyes, framed with long brown lashes.
“I’m glad they are,” Gwiboon said with a small (teasing, sexy, playful, frustratingly tempting) smile.
Jonghyun spent the whole night staring at the incarnation of Cleopatra, or Aphrodite, or whoever goddess that claimed the title of the fairest, completely bewitched by her beauty.
Their third meeting was in Milan Fashion Week. Jonghyun had been invited for Salvatore Ferragamo and Gwiboon was one of the models walking for the show. When Gwiboon came out, Jonghyun could only stare at her face. He totally forgot to inspect her attires, giving comments like how he should. Instead, his attention was fixated on Gwiboon’s high cheekbones, Gwiboon’s passionate eyes, Gwiboon’s lips. And it didn’t help him at all that Gwiboon walked two times, still mesmerizing Jonghyun even on her second walk.
Right after the show ended, Jonghyun waited patiently until the model came out. His knitted gray cardigan protected him from the slightly chilly breeze of February. But he still felt cold because the collar of his shirt was hanging low, exposing half of his chest while still hiding the sight of his nipples. Jonghyun didn’t miss the way people; men and women alike, looked at him. He knew he looked dashing, he always did, he was the kind of person who could make anything he wore looked good. Some people took a picture of him and some other interviewed him. A reporter from Fashion TV had come to him for an interview, that one for certain.
He could have been a model if only he was ten centimeter taller. His body was sculpted from regular visit to gym and balanced diet, his strong and defined jaw was envied by many of his friends, and his expressive eyes only made him more alluring.
But no matter how handsome he was, he felt like he could never come on par with Kim Gwiboon. She was on whole different level altogether.
“Am I dreaming or is that you, Kim Jonghyun?” He heard someone gasped and he didn’t need to look to know who it was. Sure enough, it was, looking good in yellow drapery dress and red ballerina flats. Her curly chocolate hair was framing her perfect (flawless, unblemished, naturally beautiful) face. There was trace of bags under her eyes but she managed to conceal them although not completely. She looked tired, not surprising remembering the numbers of show she had to walk this season.
“Maybe you’re just dreaming about me, Kim Gwiboon,” he grinned, revealing a set of pearly white teeth that he was so proud of. “Didn’t you do it, dreaming of me?”
She hit him playfully with her blue bag; Celine Luggage, Jonghyun noted. He could go and named the brand of her attires one by one (like he usually did), but he was too focused on seeing the pout on her face for the very first time. It’s as if the supermodel was gone, replaced with normal girl who dreamed of becoming a princess and waited for her prince charming. God, could Kim Gwiboon be any more beautiful?
“I wouldn’t dream of just anyone, you know. Mom told me that if someone appeared in my dream, then that someone is someone important for me.” Her reason didn’t make sense, but Jonghyun had thrown away his ability of making sense when it came to.
It’s cute (not almost cute) to see the girl who walked on thirteen centimeter heels talking about what her mother told her. It occurred to Jonghyun that Gwiboon might not be as mature as media dubbed her to be. There was still this pure and innocent Gwiboon left somewhere within the young talented model and Jonghyun was lucky enough to get a glimpse of it. The thought excited him more than seeing the new collection of Armani. It took his heart on a ride to know that Gwiboon was willing to show him a part of her that she never showed anyone.
She was known for being independent not childish, but the girl in front of him now looked more like the latter than the former, but she was still Kim . The mischievous glint was still there, the feline eyes were still there; the brands were still there, adorning her and flourishing her.
“Then I wish I will appear in you dream,” Jonghyun said, voice half husky like how he meant it to be. He lowered his head and tilted it aside in certain angle that made him more attractive. Gwiboon’s eyes widened a fraction but she didn’t pull her face back, she didn’t blush like the other girls. Instead, she frowned at him, lips still pouting. “Are you hitting on me?” Jonghyun chuckled, using his forefinger; he tapped her on the forehead. “Yes, I Am.”
Did he ever mention that Gwiboon’s laugh was the music to his ears? If he hadn’t, then he said it now; it’s the most beautiful sound he has ever heard in his whole life.
“What are you doing here, Jjong? Coming from Seoul just to hit me?” Gwiboon asked, rubbing her forehead lightly with her fingers.
Jonghyun raised his brows at this. On instinct, his larger palm covered Gwiboon’s hand. He looked at the younger girl with concern, “Are you okay? I didn’t really hurt you, did I? It’s just a tap of finger, how could it hurt? Oh god, please don’t tell me that it actually hurt. Damn, I’m going to die; I just ruined your face.”
The horrified look on his face made Gwiboon laughed again, Jonghyun noticed how she didn’t make an attempt to remove Jonghyun’s hand from her own. It’s as if she was letting him touching her and the thought made Jonghyun’s already skipping heartbeat to jump merrily. Being in close proximity with her like this was seriously not good for his heart. He swore if Gwiboon came closer, he could have received a heart attack.
This also allowed him to recognize her fragrance, refreshing scent of citrus, not too strong and almost gentle. “Do you notice we’re wearing matching perfume?” He asked, not quite looking at her eyes (in fear of displaying his passion for her).
She sniffed, Kim Gwiboon actually sniffed him and Jonghyun thought he could die happy (god, he was such a fanboy). She curled her lips upward in that playful smile of her, looking at Jonghyun’s eyes (daring and baring), “Didn’t you change your perfume?”
“What if I said I didn’t change it because I know you like it?” He countered while wiggling his brows.
‘Dear Kim Gwiboon, I love you and would you please stop making me undone?’ Jonghyun thought when Gwiboon leaned in to him, head almost falling on Jonghyun’s shoulder, making Jonghyun shuddered and rendering him immobile.
She tilted her lowered head the same way Jonghyun tilted his head and angled it to a very same position. “Why don’t you just say that you came here for me?”
If Jonghyun lacked self-control, he would have crashed his lips with Gwiboon’s, but (sadly) he possessed necessary amount of them, so he kept himself at bay. Damn, Kim Gwiboon had just used his own trick on him and she did it with perfect score. Even better than himself if he was honest. “What if I said so?”
Gwiboon kept their eyes locked; Jonghyun thought there was no need for her to do that because he couldn’t even tear his gaze away from her. “Then I’m honored,” she whispered, voice lowering an octave, or was it just his imagination?
“Oh,” he muttered dumbly. “Thank you.”
The instant Gwiboon pulled herself away from him, the instant Jonghyun felt the loss of Gwiboon’s skin under his palm; he felt cold. She looked around before glancing at Jonghyun from the corner of her cat-like eyes, small smirk on her face. Only then Jonghyun realized where they were, within crowds of people and surrounded by cameras. He flushed slightly and scratched the back of his head, looking down at his shoes.
“Well, Honey, do you want to go anywhere because I’m feeling a little bit hungry.” Once again, Kim Gwiboon had done her magic on him, pushing the right button to make him feel like he’s losing control of himself.
“I, okay, fine with me. We eat then, okay.” Jonghyun felt silly but he still couldn’t wrap his finger around his mind, did she just call him ‘Honey’?
’s laugh was clear and laugh like a bell, it reverberated inside Jonghyun’s ears. She then grabbed the sleeve of his cardigan, pulling him with her. “Come on, then. I know the right place to eat. They served the best pasta and pizza, their Spaghetti alle Vongole Bianco is to die for, you must try it.”
Jonghyun followed her like a lost puppy. He knew he could have taken Gwiboon’s hand and laced their fingers together but maybe he was too cowardice to do so. Instead, he let her pulled him all the way to the restaurant.
The place was cozy and homey. All furniture was made from woods and the wall was built from red bricks. A classical music was playing in the background, making everyone who came to visit at ease. The waitress welcomed them with a warm smile on her red-freckled face then she guided them to a table by a large window. Jonghyun couldn’t speak Italian so he let Gwiboon do all the talk. He asked her about the menu and she explained it to him with edge of impatience. Jonghyun knew she was just teasing him so he played along, dragging his voice and contemplating a little bit longer than needed.
In the end, they settled with pizza di mare and two servings of Spaghetti that Gwiboon recommended him. Two cup of cappuccino accompanied their lunch (brunch on Gwiboon’s part). They didn’t immediately start another conversation. Jonghyun yawned and leant back to his chair, slipping down a little. Gwiboon folded one hand on the table and used the other to support her chin. Together, they watched the bustling street of Milan. Lots of people came and go, each of them dressed in different clothes and attires. Jonghyun absentmindedly made a mental note of what they wore, trying to find one red line that connected them to decipher the current trend.
“Say, what do you think of me?” Gwiboon suddenly asked out of the blue.
If Jonghyun had been drinking, he would have choked and spilled his drink on the table. Thankfully, he was not so he could save himself from embarrassment. “I’m sorry, what did you say? I was too busy identifying the brand of her bag?” he pointed at random people as if to make his point.
Gwiboon didn’t seem to care as she kept on looking outside, a distant look on her face. “Do you think I did well? Walking there?”
Jonghyun tried to remember if this really was the third time he met Kim Gwiboon face to face and the second time he talked directly to her. Because a girl like Gwiboon, a girl who was so confident of herself did not just reveal her insecurity to anyone. But here she was, asking Jonghyun’s opinion about herself; ‘Do you think I did well?’ There was so much more held in that one question, Jonghyun knew.
Modeling was not as easy as it looked like, it’s demanding, it’s stressing, it’s frustrating, it’s changing, and one wrong step, you could lose everything. Being Asian just made it a little bit harder, true that lately, Asian model has been earning more attention. Model like Okamoto Tao was the example. But not every Asian could make it to the big and competitive world of fashion. There are many pretty faces out there to replace you when you’re not good enough. And Gwiboon was young, still young when she stepped into the seemingly glamorous world. She lived alone independently, missing the time she could have enjoyed with comforting presence of friends and family. Such insecurity was actually normal, but this insecure side of her was overshadowed by her top model personality.
“Jjong,” Gwiboon called, almost making Jonghyun fell from his chair because she had just called him with a fucking nickname; Jjong. Was he dreaming? This was too good to be true. First, he and Gwiboon were flirting with each other. Second, Kim Gwiboonm had let him see her insecurities. Third, Kim Gwiboon had called him with pet names; honey and now Jjong? If this was dream, he wouldn’t want to wake up, not now and not ever. “Are you even listening to me?”
“100 % positive I’m only listening to you, “he straightened his position on chair. Gwiboonm gave him a cross look but it was gone when she saw the serious look on Jonghyun’s face. “You were asking me about my opinion about you, right?”
Gwiboon nodded and Jonghyun wished to recite his feelings for her; how she mesmerized him and how he despised him for doing so. But that was not the answer that Gwiboon wanted to know, she didn’t ask him about his feelings, she asked him about his opinion on her job. It was something completely professional and far from personal.
“Mmm, what do you think?”
You’re perfect. “I’ve seen many models on runaways and believe me, you outdid yourself.”
Gwiboon looked confusedly at him, “Is it supposed to be a good thing?”
It is, you damn tease. “I meant to say you did better than you expected yourself to be which means you’re doing it fabulously,” he claimed with wide grin, chin rising on the air. “Trust me, not everyone could do what you do.”
She still look unsure, Jonghyun could tell from the way she wasn’t looking at him but outside at the throng of people. Suddenly, Jonghyun felt like he had known Gwiboon for such a long time. Like this girl had been a part of his life, someone he could always figure out. Kim Gwiboon was not vulnerable but she could be when she wanted, she could be when she wished to. How true it was then, no one ruled her but herself. She could be anything she wanted and no one could make her do it but herself.
Jonghyun reached out across the table to touch her knuckle but his hand stopped somewhere before his fingertip could even graze his skin. Coward, he hissed mentally to himself. “Hey, what’s with this sudden mood swing? Where is the cool cat that conquered the runaway just an hour ago?”
Gwiboon’s gaze flickered to him, the corner of herself pulled into a small smile. “Cool cat? Who?”
“I don’t know,” he drawled, “I heard the name is Kim Gwiboon.”
“She is not a cool cat,” Gwiboon said, all hint of vulnerability and insecurity was gone from her face. They’re replaced with daring expression that made Jonghyun swallowed thickly, “she is one naughty and sexy cat.”
“Sexy? Yeah, right.” Jonghyun snorted, hoping that his voice wasn’t shaky like his trembling legs. Damn Kim Gwiboon and her, her everything (her eyes, her lips, her nose, her voice, her smile, her smirk).Gwiboon “More like haughty cat.”
Gwiboon laughed, eyes disappearing into half-moon as the corners crinkled. “Sexy, naughty, haughty? I like that.”
And Jonghyun liked it, too. He couldn’t find three words that could describe Gwiboon better than these; sexy, naughty, and haughty? Not that Gwiboon was overly arrogant bitch but sometimes, that was the impression she left on other people. Especially with all brands she wore on her. The sexy and naughty part was unquestionable, it’s as clear as day that she was sexy and she obviously was naughty if her playful attitude was any indication.
The newly settling comfort was accompanied with pasta and pizza later. Gwiboon ate much, surprisingly. She didn’t act like anorexic girl who pushed her food around the plate. She ate as much as Jonghyun did and Jonghyun was impressed. If anything, he was anti-anorexia. Despite her appetite, Gwiboon said she was neutral about the issue. She wasn’t against anorexia but she wasn’t supporting it either.
“It’s a matter of choice,” she twirled the spaghetti around the fork. “Sometimes I’m a bit of anorexic, not wanting to eat because I’m worrying too much about my weight. But when I’m faced with sinfully delicious food like this, I’d say; the hell with diet, I’m not missing this.”
Jonghyun decided that just because she was Gwiboon, he was okay with her neutral position. If she was just anyone, just any other model who was not Gwiboon, he’d start lecturing them about the importance of balanced diet and exercise as the main weapon for making ideal body.
They divided the bill equally, Gwiboon paid half and Jonghyun paid another half. The two of them walked together, talking about random things until they had to separate ways. There was no goodbye kiss, only casual and friendly hug and Gwiboon was gone, leaving Jonghyun to stare at her back (not her ass. But, okay, maybe her ass, too). Later that night as he lied on his bed, Jonghyun could only think of Gwiboon before he drifted into sleep.
-
They didn’t meet each other anymore because Gwiboon was busy flying from one country to another for various runaways and fashion weeks. Jonghyun had his own job to take care of, working as an apprentice of his own genetic mother was far from easy. She was much more demanding, apparently because he was her son, therefore, she knew of what he was capable of.
It was only when Gwiboon came to their studio for photo-shoot that two of them met again.
It was his routine to check on her attire; Raoul orange mini dress, dark brown stocking that teased Jonghyun with the display of skin, mocha colored vintage blazer, and Marc Jacob’s suede and leather lace up booties.
He immediately crossed the studio in long strides, only stopping when she was at arm length. He was more than pleased to smell the very same citrusy scent on her that smelt so much like his own. “Matching perfume again? I swear, Gwiboon-ah, sometimes I think you’re falling for me,” he teased.
Her only response was a chuckle and roll of her eyes. She lightly pushed him on the shoulder and walked past him, muttering something like; ‘in your dream’. He took no offense to that, he knew her; she was just being her, playing hard to get. It excited him a little, was Kim Gwiboon really, really playing hard to get or she was really hard to get? He hoped it was the former than the latter, it would make everything easier.
They didn’t waste their time; or rather, Gwiboon didn’t. After greeting almost all staffs, she quickly sat in front of dressing mirror and let the makeup artists did the wonder on his face. The editor in the making stole secret glances toward her while helping the stylist coordinating the attires. Actually, there was no need for him to come today. The only reason why he came was because he wanted to see Gwiboon, meet her again.
Princess soldier was the theme for that day. He made sure he had all stock necessary, carefully selecting clothes after clothes, pants after pants, skirts after skirts, shoes after shoes, even the accessories. After a long discussion about what to wear with what, they finally came with into an agreement about the outfits that Gwiboon was going to wear.
The first outfit was D&G leather jacket on top of Blumarine green dress, the outfit was completed with black MiuMiu boots. Gwiboon struck different poses in front of camera, from simply standing there to looking intimidating just by raising her chin high. Jonghyun almost choked when she lifted her skirt a little, revealing more of her thighs. The next outfit was simpler; a black jacket with puffy skirt and golden-double buttons detail, See by Chloe’s buckle detailed flat boots followed in order.
Burberry aviator jacket and fur-buckled detailed boots were mandatory. So did Moschino’s black satin hat and Balmain’s Military jacket. Five outfits later and Gwiboon was ready for the eight and the last outfit. She was dressed in Louis Vuitton from head to the toe. Red jacket with black Peter Pan collars (over nothing), black shorts that left almost nothing to imagine, and neon red platform boots. She also wore gloves but something was wrong. Jonghyun frowned, trying to find what he was missing, or maybe something that didn’t belong there.
It didn’t take long for him to find what he was looking for. “Gwiboon!” He called. The girl’s hair was tied into tight braids that fell down her back like second spine, her feline features were accentuated with cat eyes makeup and her plump lips are painted blood red, she was so seductive in his already seduced eyes. “Come here.”
Jonghyun didn’t prepare himself for this, not at all; Gwiboon walked to him like a predatory to its prey, her steps were definite, her eyes locked straight at him, and she emitted an air of superiority. She was as graceful and as regal as a Queen, yet she possessed the strength of a soldier. “What is it, Jjong?”
“You forget this,” he said, putting a red cabbie hat over her head. Gwiboon glared at him from beneath the cap and Jonghyun thought this was perfect; she was perfect. “Now, you may go, soldier.”
Gwiboon smirked for a fleeting minute before immediately replacing them with tight line of her lips and saluted Jonghyun. “Sir, Yes, Sir!”
Jonghyun suddenly developed an urge to take those gloved hands in his and take her right here and there. But he and Gwiboon had been a talk for quite sometimes after their meeting in Milan; apparently, a photographer had recognized the two of them and happily took a picture when Jonghyun had her hand on Gwiboon’s forehead. His mother had looked at him, only a little bit disapprovingly, but didn’t say anything. His father didn’t know about this and his sister wouldn’t stop bothering him about it.
Gwiboon was standing still, waiting until the staffs were ready with her closed eyes. Jonghyun thought she looked right like that; completely branded but there was on brand missing from her; his brand. When the photographer gave her the cue, she immediately snapped them open and such single action made a scorching heat settled in Jonghyun’s stomach.
She put her hand on her hips, ran one down to her supple thigh, she touched her cap, and took it off, biting it between her teeth. She kneeled down while spreading her legs open, one hand putting cap back and another one was between her thighs. Twenty poses later and the cameras were still snapping, everyone’s eyes were still on her. It was as if she had commanded them to pay attention to her and her alone.
But Jonghyun knew no one felt like their whole body was on fire like he did. He was not going to lie but she turned him out, thankfully, he had been lazy to take his trench coat off so he was saved from humiliation.
The last pose almost had him undone; almost. Gwiboon sat on red velvet couch, her long legs were crossed and her gloved fingers laced together in front of her. She wasn’t sitting straight but a little bit sagged. Her head was leaning on her seat and turned a little, to the left, right where Jonghyun was standing and watching with rounded eyes. She opened her mouth a little and smirked like she knew what she was doing to him. For God’s sake, he knew she knew that she had him wrapped around her perfectly manicured fingers.
“Yep, done! Perfect, Gwiboon, you’re fabulous!” The photographer called with booming voice, he was looking so enthusiastic when he approached Gwiboon to shake her hands and Jonghyun felt suddenly possessive. He quickly strode to where she was; sitting on the couch like a fucking queen and everyone was showering her with words of gratitude and compliments.
“Hey, Soldier,” Jonghyun felt thrilled when Gwiboon lazily turned to look at him like a cat. He put on a crooked smile and offered his hand to her. “Good job.”
Gwiboon regarded him with half closed lidded eyes and an amused smile. When she raised her hand, people might thing she was going to shake his hand, but somehow Jonghyun knew that wasn’t what she wanted. He took her hand in his and the other hand soon followed, Jonghyun pulled her up until they’re standing eye to eye and she was just few inches apart from him. “Thank you,” Gwiboon paused, eyes flickering to his lips before continuing. “Jjong.”
Praised his self-control because Jonghyun didn’t surrender to the need to kiss her senseless and mark her; brand her as his. He was careful not to let his voice shake too much when he answered her, “You’re welcome.”
Gwiboon let go of his hand and walked passed him like how she walked passed him this morning. Jonghyun ignored everyone’s eyes on him; he turned around but didn’t follow her like they expected him to. Instead, he went to check on the pictures, and the rest was routine procedure of selecting the right ones to be posted on the magazine.
He didn’t select the last one, but that one, that one picture of Gwiboon staring at him, went straight to his cellphone’s memory.
-
“Hey, Jjong, are you busy?”
Jonghyun let his jaw dropped at the oh-so familiar voice. He was working on five pages article about nail care that his subordinates (yes, he called them that when he was pissed off) decided to ruin. His mother had heartlessly told him to fix them on his own and forbid anyone to help him. Was Jonghyun livid? Very. He slammed the door to his office close with loud bang that shook the wall and made one frame outside fell with equally loud and dull thud. He had a reason to be because her mother had dumped four other articles which all of them were to be main articles for the next issue. And when was the deadline again? Tomorrow, fucking tomorrow.
That was when his phone suddenly rang, playing Chopin’s Fantasie Impromptu in C-sharp minor. He roared (yes, he did, he was frustrated) and didn’t bother to check the numbers when he answered the call with annoyed yet controlled, “Hello?”
And then he heard her, Kim Gwiboon, asking him if he was busy. Did he ever give her his number? Nope, he didn’t even know hers. How? But, Why? His mind was fogged, totally not clear, and he was lost. He tried to grab on something, anything that would help him making out the situation at hand. Here he was, working his ass off to fix some idiot’s mistakes and his crush, his object of affection and passion was asking him if he was busy.
This was one fucking big fat chance that he had to grab no matter what happen. And if he was anyone, he would have answered her with; ‘No, I’m not. I’m totally free as a bird. What do you need?’ But he was Kim Jonghyun, not just anyone who was stupid and foolish enough to give it all for love. He was Kim Jonghyun and she was Kim Gwiboon, if there was something that Jonghyun knew they shared, then professionalism was one of them.
So, even though he felt like punching himself square on his square face, Jonghyun answered, “No, I am not. My deadline is tomorrow and I still have four, no, five, main articles to work on. So if you don’t mind, would you please kindly close the call right now because I am ready to abuse my computer between tearing my hair out?”
Gwiboon laughed, that girl dared to laugh at his misery. His whole career was on the line, damn it. Well, he knew he was exaggerating but he was frustrated beyond belief. “Why are you laughing? “He angrily snapped.
Gwiboon ceased her laughter with difficulties, muttering apology in between. “Ah, well, okay, I take it you’re busy. I will call you later. Bye.”
Then the line went dead and Jonghyun didn’t waste his time to drop it on the table. He didn’t waste his time mourning over his decision either; because Gwiboon said she will call him later and because he had something to work on. Gwiboon could wait, but deadline could not.
-
Jonghyun slumped on his table, already cleared from the miniature of catastrophe that his table was yesterday and until an hour prior. His bum was sore for sitting so long and his back ached. He smelt horrible, his hair was a mess, his eyes were bloodshot, and he didn’t have energy left to move. He should have gone straight home to take a long shower and sleep like a log, but he couldn’t trust himself going alone. The easiest way was to use cab so he could sleep without missing his destination but he always hated the smell of cabs. Train and buses were out of choice, he would surely sleep until the last stop. The best way was to have someone drive him home, but who?
His phone rang. He didn’t pick it up right away but stared at it for a long time until the tone went dead. The second time it rang, Jonghyun suddenly remembered about someone who called him yesterday and told him she was going to call later. He quickly snatched his phone and picked it up, again, without checking the number. Somehow, he knew who it was on the line.
“Hello?” His voice was scratchy and raspy from exhaustion. He sounded damn pathetic but he didn’t care, he was too drained to impress her.
“I bet you smell as horrible as you sound,” Gwiboon said with mocking voice.
Jonghyun rolled his eyes, slumping further to the desk with loud unattractive yawn. “Yeah, and I’m also sleepy. I was about to fall asleep here on my desk in my office.”
“You didn’t go home yesterday? If you’re silent, I’d take it as a yes.”
Jonghyun didn’t say anything; his eyes were heavy and only Gwiboon’s voice that kept him from falling into deep slumber.
“Oh, poor, my Jjongie. Aren’t you going home?”
A lazy smile crossed his feature, he felt giddy. “Want to but I’m not taking cab because I hate the smell. Can’t take bus or train, will fall asleep.”
Gwiboon made a thinking noise before talking back again, “Say, what if I drove you home?”
Did he need to think twice? “Yeah, come here and take me, drive me home, Gwiboon.”
-
Jonghyun’s face was planted on the desk when Gwiboon arrived. She didn’t immediately wake him up but pulled him to his back instead, this caused her to discover Jonghyun’s habit of sleeping with half-opened say (something that she only stopped bringing up when Jonghyun was no longer affected by her teasing). She spent her sweet time staring at him, or at least he hoped so. The only thing Jonghyun knew was Gwiboon woke him up by shaking his shoulders, very roughly.
“Wha?” Jonghyun asked blearily, his eyes were clouded but he still could see Gwiboon clearly. She had a lopsided smile on her face and her arms were folded together in front of her. “You smelt as bad as you said,” was the first thing she said. Jonghyun merely raised his brows sleepily. “And your hair, even bird nest looked better.”
“Thanks for your insult, I’m flattered,” He deadpanned, raising his head over his head to stretch and yawned loudly. Gwiboon scrunched her nose and how did she manage to still look attractive was beyond comprehension. A lazy grin crossed Jonhyun’s face, he leaned back to the chair and used his feet to swivel it lightly.
“Come one, let’s get you home and clean yourself up,” she pulled him by the arms, urging the other to stand straight. If only his body didn’t feel like it weighed a ton, Jonghyun would like to play a little with her. With a groan, he stood up, careful not to miss his step so he won’t fall on her. Gwiboon eyed him, making Jonghyun felt wonderfully uncomfortable. He was aware of how he looked worse than beggar right now, in front of his crush, no less.
“Well, aren’t you going to take me home?”
She casually slipped her hand to his arms and dragged him outside his office, doing all that without saying anything. Jonghyun was utterly, utterly, embarrassed. He came out of his room, looking like a disaster and Korean number one supermodel was dragging him by the arm. All eyes immediately turned to them; everyone halted their activities to watch the editor apprentice being led by the arms. Jonghyun weakly shook his head, opening and closing his mouth like a fish out of water before Gwiboon commented out loud, “We will get you to the bath first and the bed later.”
Jonghyun could only loll his head backward, trying not to think about how he’d have to deal with this tomorrow.
part 2