Goo Kim x Reader: Dating (feat. Gun)
"Who is this mysterious sexy man?" Goo chuckles, "It's ME!"
He thrusts the trashy tabloid in Gun's face. That ridiculous headline and Goo's mug plastered on the front page, arm around one of the most sought after K-Pop idols.
Gun peers at the photo and thinks that Goo looks like how he always does.
Lips stretched into an open mouthed grin. Eyes crinkled. Hideously garish suit. Stupid bleached hair.
Some of his meagre charm must be doing something though, because the idol's smile reflects his. A touch more sane, a lot more sincere, and very much besotted if the way they're looking at the blonde is anything to go by.
"They're boring though," Goo leans back, studies the idol's face that he is casually bedding and dismisses them.
One word, cutting and cruel: "Next."
"Either answer it, or turn it off."
Gun glares at him. The phone continues to vibrate, buzzing noisily on the table.
Just like it has done for the last ten minutes.
Fuck this. Gun grabs the device and hurls it onto the floor. It smashes with excessive force, a complete overkill, into the marble tiles.
The screen cracks, flashes, then dies.
"You're doing me a favour," Goo taps his long fingers against the table, unconcerned and disinterested, peering out the window, "They were getting clingy."
They being the supermodel that walked the Paris runway last week. Graced the front cover of the September Issue the week before.
His interest putters out like it always does. Goo is done with them.
Gun catches a glimpse of a suit nestled in a gift box, logos of one of the most expensive and exclusive fashion houses adorn the tissue paper.
"Throw it away! Trash it!" Goo instructs and the HNH assistant scurries away.
"Ugh," The blonde pulls a face, as if the lingering presence of the ugly garment is still offending his delicate sensibilities.
Grabs his phone (new and top of the line) out of his pocket and makes a show of blocking someone.
He throws his arm around Gun's shoulder.
"You'd think a chaebol heir-" Stressing chaebol and heir with a smug waggle of the eyebrows, "-would have better taste. I can't be with someone with such awful style!"
Gun pushes him away, "I don't care. Shut up."
Used to let his phone ring out. Used to ghost people for days, weeks, months, before reaching out again. (If he does reach out, that is.) Relish in playing mind games and gaslighting.
Now he picks up after the second ring. Murmurs, voice cooing and sickly sweet, into his phone.
Excuses himself "I have to take this," and walks out of meetings with Charles Choi and the HNH board.
Is unavailable on weekends and evenings. Snaps "I'm busy," when Gun offers the moneymaker a chance to make more money.
Then the new obsession turns into an ongoing obsession.
Your name flashes on Goo's phone screen.
Your name is one that Gun has, against his will, grown familiar with.
He has heard more than his fair share of your interests and hobbies. How great you are, how talented, how wonderful. The way your hair gleams in the light, how your eyes sparkle when you laugh. How you always beat Goo in games, "Y/N must be cheating!" he would screech.
And, according to Goo, has the most deliciously mean sense of humour. "You could never be as funny as Y/N." Goo sneers, as if it was a competition. As if Gun ever wanted to be seen as funny. Or to make Goo fucking Kim laugh.
Gun couldn't give a shit. Gun couldn't care less. But since when did Goo care what Gun thinks.
So Goo rambles, voice rushed and excited, telling him everything about you even when Gun tells him to shut the fuck up and tries to uppercut him on the jaw.
"You're getting too attached." Gun tells him one day. Not that Gun cares, but Goo Kim happy is insufferable.
He expects a glare, an insult. Eyes narrowed behind glasses and venom.
Goo's response surprises him. Gun never expected this.
A shrug and a lopsided smile. Goo is resigned to his fate. "Yeah," he agrees.
He knows he is too attached to you, and he has no intention of ever changing that.
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