Up & Down

Apr 21, 2011 14:12

Title: Up & Down
Pairing: Minho/Key (Gwiboon)
Rating: NC-17 (overall)
Length: 4/9
Summary: Gwiboon is having a horrible day. It’s snowing (she hates snow), it’s cold (she hates the cold), and she forgot her scraper for her frozen block of ice that is posing as a car. When a handsome stranger saves her sanity (and her designer boots), she starts to question everything she knows.

[ Previous]



The hotel room was spacious and airy with the help of a set of French doors leading out to a small terrace, their room on the ground level but no less extravagant. They were surrounded by all sorts of trees and plants that gave off a lovely scent, and there was an in-ground hot tub that hummed softly behind their quaint glass table.

In any other circumstance Gwiboon would have lived it up, spoiled herself by getting into the hot tub and then maybe going into the huge bathroom to take a bath, but as it were, with her and Minho sitting at the lounge table with a slip of paper between them, her world came crashing down.

“We got married.” Her voice was even as they both stared at the paper.

“Yes.”

“While drunk.”

“Yes.”

“And we can’t get an annulment, why?” Gwiboon rubbed her temple with her fingers, the giant wedding ring sitting innocently atop their marriage license. She wanted to throw it over a cliff.

Minho looked hesitant as he rubbed the pad of his index finger over the knuckle of his thumb, biting his lip and looking down at the paper.

“It will be heavily frowned upon,” he said.

“Are you kidding me?” Gwiboon rolled her eyes. “Everyone gets divorces nowadays, it’s like the ‘it’ thing to do.”

“I mean for us. For me.”

Narrowing her eyes a bit, Gwiboon’s nose wrinkled, “I swear to God if you keep being so God damn cryptic I’m going to call the cops and tell them you married me so you could sell me off to some underground slave trade.”

Pausing, Minho looked like he wanted to ask where Gwiboon could even think up such things, but instead he shrugged and pointed at the paper. “See my name?”

Gwiboon looked down to where Minho was pointing, “Yeah. I see mine too. Which has changed.”

“That’s why we can’t get divorced.”

“This still means nothing to me, if you couldn’t tell,” Gwiboon huffed, looking back up at Minho.

He gave her a meaningful look, his eyes big and round, as his finger tapped the paper again. Rolling her eyes, Gwiboon took the paper and scanned her eyes over it, mumbling some of the words she read under her breath.

“‘This license verifies the union between Miss Kim Gwiboon and Mr. Choi Minho, blah blah blah, under this unity you are legally blah blah blah… signed, Choi Minho and Choi Gwiboon.’” She put the paper down and looked up at Minho, whose expression hadn’t changed.

She blinked.

He stared.

She sniffed a little, maybe her allergies were acting up.

She blinked again.

“OH MY GOD YOU’RE CHOI MINHO!?” Gwiboon shrieked at the top of her lungs, standing so abruptly from her seat that she knocked the furniture over, the steel clanging on the hard ground.

Minho wriggled a pinky in his ear, sighing softly. “Yes.”

“Oh my God I just got married to Korea’s most infamous soccer player, oh my God, oh my God Minho why - why didn’t you tell me?!” Gwiboon started pacing, Minho’s v-neck t-shirt billowing about her, her bare thighs swishing as she started tugging at her hair. She hadn’t wanted to get dressed so Minho offered his shirt and she kept her panties, Minho seemingly fine with lounging in his boxers.

“For once I wanted to date someone who wasn’t in it for my money,” he said, resting his cheek in his hand, looking down at the papers with mild concentration. “I wonder whose idea this was…”

“Who cares!?”

“Can you stop yelling please?” Minho rubbed his large hand over his face and picked up the marriage license, reading it over, finding it very, incredibly real.

“Shit like this happens in Vegas, not Seoul,” Gwiboon righted her chair and slumped into it, whining and kicking her feet in a very immature tantrum.

Minho was ignoring her, though, as he picked up the ring and sighed, rotating it in his fingers. Gwiboon glanced over and bit her lip, before she sat up a bit and rested her elbows on the table.

“Were you just carrying around that rock last night?” she asked, toning down her voice from her previous fit.

He glanced up and gave a sheepish smile, “Ah, I always carry it around.”

Tilting her head to the side, Gwiboon leaned forward a bit to look at it, “Why?”

“My mom used to tell me that love will come in the most unusual circumstances. She told me to keep something like this around in case one of those circumstances happened.”

She arched a brow, “You’re not in love with me are you.”

“I’ve come to the conclusion that you’re very shallow and snotty for a middle-class girl, so no, I’m not in love at this very moment.”

Looking properly offended, Gwiboon sniffed, “What happened to the gentleman I met?”

“I’m only a gentleman to lure in my prey; once I acquire my victim I marry them right away to ensure no escape.”

“Har har,” she rolled her eyes, taking the ring and looking at it, before looking down at the contract. “What are we going to do…?”

“Divorce is out of the question,” Minho said resolutely, and Gwiboon balked, but he held up a hand to stop her. “Same with separation.” She fumed and sat back in her chair. “This is probably all over the media, people most likely saw us at whatever chapel we were at last night…”

Gwiboon stood up and moved into the room to hunt and see if Minho was right, searching for the remote and turning on the television, finding the local news channel. Weather, burglary, sports, sports idols, Choi Minho…

“‘And the mysterious vixen he tied the knot with?’ Who the fuck comes up with these news titles?” She sat on the edge of the bed and watched in horror as her and Minho waved to cameras and fans before disappearing into the chapel. They didn’t look drunk. Which was probably a good thing, since she was pretty sure public intoxication was illegal in Seoul and Minho’s coach would punish the athlete for being sloshed in the first place.

Minho walked in as well and let out a breath, folding his arms over his chest. Which, out of her peripheral vision, was really quite distracting because his biceps were bulging a bit and his pectoral muscles were flexing… Gwiboon shifted and focused on the television again.

Clucking his tongue, Minho held out the ring to Gwiboon, “We need to go see my family.”

Gwiboon looked up at the ring, and then up at her newly wedded husband, and then let out a sigh.

“You’re lucky I have a nice streak.”

--

They didn’t even bother to find new clothes to change into. They both showered (separately) and got freshened up, getting into Minho’s car and heading to the other side of town. Gwiboon was already fidgeting - she had horrible A.D.D. and moments like this just worsened it - as she twirled her hair around her finger while Minho spoke.

“We’re gonna tell them how we met, exactly how it actually happened. Only instead of it being a few days ago, it’ll have been a few months ago. You were busy with work and I was busy with soccer so we contacted mainly through texts and phone calls and rarely went out - or we stayed in. We fell madly in love and you quit your job because I offered to take care of you, and here we are now.”

It was the most she’d ever heard Minho speak since she met him, but instead of being marveled by his deep voice she was fingering the shiny ring, looking down at it and nodding. Glancing up and over, she arched a brow.

“Would you really do that for a girl?” she asked.

“Do what?” Minho said, looking over his shoulder as he changed lanes.

“Let her quit her job, and then support her.”

“Yeah,” he looked over at her, his big eyes glimmering slightly with the smile he was suppressing. “It’s the right way to treat a woman.”

Gwiboon fell silent, deciding that she could have accidentally married a worse guy, sighing as she leaned back and watched the scenery pass. They were leaving Seoul and going to an outer part of the city, the big skyscrapers getting smaller and smaller until they turned into regular buildings with less than twenty floors. From there it only took ten minutes until Minho reached his parent’s house, pulling up to the expensive looking home and parking at the curb, shutting off the car. Gwiboon stared up at the lovely abode, finding herself almost in awe - if she could ever have her own house, this was pretty much the image in her head.

Thoughts of her mother filtered through her head; should she call and give her the good news? She’d be beside herself, Gwiboon knew. But… she’d also be suspicious. Gwiboon wasn’t sure about the Choi family but Mrs. Kim was sharp as an arrow and anything remotely out of the ordinary would make her suspect something was up. And Gwiboon didn’t want to disappoint her mother by telling her that this marriage was an accident… Gwiboon sighed, putting her elbow on the door and rubbing her temples.

A hand on her thigh made her glance over at Minho, who gave a small smile. “We’ll be fine.”

“I don’t even know your favorite color,” Gwiboon whined.

“It’s navy blue. Now come on,” he got out of the car and walked around to her side, opening it up.

She got out and made sure the ring on her finger was presented properly, and then awkwardly slipped her hand into the crook of Minho’s offered elbow. Even in the footage from last night they hadn’t been terribly touchy feely, but now it was expected of them. Had they even kissed to seal the union? She almost hoped she didn’t, because she imagined that kissing Minho was something that she would like to remember. But she did remember a brief connection of their mouths before her memory went fuzz… she wondered if it was real.

They didn’t even make it up the steps before the front door was thrown open and a man, an incredibly handsome man, practically ran out of it and darted at Minho, nearly tackling him to the frosty ground.

“Hyung!” The laugh Minho let out was unlike any sound Gwiboon had heard from him before, and it made her smile as Minho greeted his brother. Minseok was his name, Gwiboon recalled properly from the barrage of information Minho had thrown at her in the car.

The older man turned to Gwiboon and smiled - no, it was entirely unfair that he was just as handsome as (if not more than) Minho - holding out his hand for a shake.

“And here she is,” Minseok said, shaking her hand gently before kissing her knuckles. “Prettier in person.”

She blushed. She couldn’t help it.

Minho’s arm wrapped around her waist as Minseok led them up the steps into the giant house, Gwiboon and Minho taking off their shoes in the entry way. Minho had promised to make it as short as possible, and Gwiboon hoped that he didn’t break his word as she started to feel uncomfortably warm, uncomfortably…comfortable.

“Minho! Did you get taller?” A sweet older woman exited the kitchen, wearing an apron and wiping her hands on the skirt of it.

Minho smiled and he looked like the perfect son as he enveloped his mother in an embrace and kissed her cheek, “No mother, you’re getting shorter.”

“It’s because your father stopped letting me jog every morning,” she joked, and then smiled brightly at Gwiboon. “My, my! You’re so beautiful, Gwiboonie. Come here, my daughter!”

Gwiboon smiled sheepishly and accepted the warm hug, wondering if all of Minho’s family was going to be ok with this sudden marriage. They seemed to be fine with it, Mrs. Choi peppering kisses all over Gwiboon’s face and playing with her hair, making comments like “oh you look like a pretty little doll!” and “she’ll make such beautiful grand babies~”. The fashionista took every compliment with a smile, even though her gut was churning, and then was pulled away by Minho.

“Is dad around? We have some things to tend to, so we can’t stay for too long,” Minho said, and he did look really sorry. He probably didn’t lie much, Gwiboon figured.

“Your father is where he usually is,” Mrs. Choi waved a hand towards what must have been the den, as she smiled and took Gwiboon’s hand. “Come here darling, have some of my freshly pickled kimchi!”

“She should meet dad first, mom, slow down,” Minho said with a chuckle.

But Mrs. Choi shook her head, her cheerful smile wilting a bit as she tugged again on Gwiboon’s hand, “Oh I’m sure your father doesn’t want to be bothered right now, you know how he is on Saturday mornings…”

Minho frowned and looked like he was about to say something, but was cut off by a gruff older voice.

“I don’t want to meet that money-mongering skank.”

Gwiboon’s eyes widened and Minho’s nostrils flared, Minseok moving into the room where the voice came from. Minho followed him and Gwiboon stared, her mouth agape, as Mrs. Choi led her back into the kitchen, tutting softly.

“I’m sorry you had to hear that,” Mrs. Choi said, facing Gwiboon, whose face was still frozen in shock. The woman put her hands on Gwiboon’s cheeks and kissed her forehead, petting her hair. “Don’t worry about him, he’s not used to change.”

Blinking, Gwiboon shook herself mentally and gave a strained smile, “Ah, well… I did sort of come out of nowhere, I understand where he’s coming from.”

“Nonsense,” Mrs. Choi waved a hand and moved to the counter, where a small dish of kimchi sat. “Come have a snack sweetie, you’re awfully skinny.”

Muffled yelling was heard down the hallway after a few moments of eating the rather delicious kimchi, Gwiboon’s eyes straying down the hallway as she bit her lip and fiddled with her chopsticks. Minho entered the kitchen not a second later, kissing his mother’s cheek and grabbing Gwiboon’s wrist, gently pulling her away.

“Sorry for leaving so soon mom, we really need to go,” Minho said, looking apologetic as Gwiboon thanked his mother and followed him out of the house, both of them barely pausing long enough to get their shoes on.

Once outside, with the door shut behind them, Gwiboon walked slowly as Minho powered to the car, his frame shaking with ill-suppressed anger. He yanked open her door and she sped up a bit, folding into the car and tucking herself in, wincing when he slammed the door. She didn’t think Minho had this side to him, and she watched him get into his side of the car and jam his keys into the ignition.

“Hey…” she said softly, reaching over to touch his arm.

He jerked out of her grasp and shook his head, peeling out as he started back towards Seoul. Not sure what to do now, Gwiboon huffed and crossed her arms over her chest and glared out of the window.

“Fine. You could at least say ‘thank you’.”

“Thank you? For what?” Minho sounded incredulous. “For marrying me? For wearing that ring that I wanted to give to the love of my life? For playing nice with my family? Thanks a lot Gwiboon, you’ve been a real help, can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you.”

Hot tears slid down Gwiboon’s cheeks before she could stop them, and when Minho’s car halted at a stop light she unbuckled herself and grabbed her purse, punching Minho in the arm before getting out of the car and slamming the door shut, walking in the opposite direction. Her mind was frazzled and her heart was thumping so loud she could hear the thuds of it over the roar of traffic, her vision blurry from her wet eyes as she wiped at them frantically, trying to ignore the bitter cold that was whipping by her.

Minho didn’t even come after her.

Some fairy tale this turned out to be.

[ Next]

series: up and down, #girl!shinee, pairing: minho/gwiboon

Previous post Next post
Up