Chapter Text
The morning sun was pleasantly peeking through the skylight of his work room, the lines of his draft blurred in front of his eyes.
“All nighter again, architect Kim?” A gravelly voice came carrying the scent of freshly brewed coffee.
Hanbin turned tiredly to his assistant, smelling the life saving brew and took a long sip.
As bothersome as he was, he had his uses.
Bobby was noisy, clumsy and eternally talkative. He had no sense of decorum, barging in wherever he pleased, cleaned however and whenever he wanted and followed Hanbin’s dictates only when convenient. Aside from the consistent cup of coffee at nine in the morning, he didn't really know why he kept Bobby around.
Well.
Maybe since his last assistance quit in tears after he “accidentally" threw a glass in her general direction after she tried to flirt with him. Flirt meaning, taking off her clothes thinking he would fall onto her like a sex starved maniac.
She wasn't even that cute.
So he didn't have a choice. Hanbin made terrible coffee and Bobby somehow perfected the balance between weak and rocket fuel.
He almost dropped his cup when a blast of “Welcome to the Jungle” blared through his expensive sound system. With a sigh, he slumped in his chair. He was so tired.
Strong fingers kneaded his shoulders casually that he only stiffened for a second and eventually melted.
“Bobby, what did I tell you about touching me?” He muttered.
“Rule number two hundred and twenty six: Thou shall not touch architect Kim unless it is a life and death situation.” Bobby intoned, but made no move to stop.
“Yes, and so?”
“You look close to dying. I need to pay rent, you know.”
Hanbin released another beleaguered sigh but allowed another few seconds of Bobby’s expert kneading before pulling away.
“You need to rest.” Bobby said.
“And you need to mind your own business.” Hanbin said curtly, downing the rest of his coffee and picking up his straight rule.
“You're not doing your clients any favors if you make a mistake because you're overworked.” His assistant said irritatingly.
Hanbin slammed the straight rule down. “I. Do. Not. Make. Mistakes.” He grit his teeth and left the work room, his temples pounding. It didn't feel like it would develop into a migraine, but it was better to be safe.
He angrily took off his clothes and stepped into the shower.
A mistake cost his father everything.
*
When he was sure that Hanbin was sleeping, Bobby turned down the music and quietly tidied the house.
The architect lived alone in a massive five bedroom modern Spanish house situated in an orchard.
Bobby started working for him two months before, when he was referred by the horticulturist he was gardening for, for extra money.
He absolutely hated Hanbin’s guts the first time he met him. Hanbin was arrogant, impatient and quick to anger. There were times during the first week that Bobby seriously wanted to deck him.
But then he heard him talking to his sister, and how gentle his face became over the phone. After that, every irritating and absurd things that he asked Bobby to do, like call him ‘Mr. Kim’ (which Bobby point blank refused to do, so he called him ‘architect Kim’ instead), or to arrange his pencils alphabetically by maker, hardness and length (which he also refused), Bobby found it in him to tolerate that.
It didn't make Hanbin any less irritating, but at least he saw redeeming factors, like how hardworking he was, how relentlessly dedicated and how every little detail had to be worked and reworked to absolute perfection.
At some point, Bobby started caring for him, like he would any other human being. Hanbin pulled one too many all nighters and often forgot to eat, so Bobby took it upon himself to cook for him whenever he could, or nag him to rest. Hanbin often snapped and growled at him, but Bobby now knew that he was more bark than bite. Most of the time.
Bobby hummed as he prepared their lunch. The one thing Hanbin never quibbled about was food. He always bought the best of everything and didn't mind if Bobby cooked premium Kobe beef for a regular lunch. Which was what he was doing.
The scent of fried meat may have roused the architect as he came ambling down, his hair sticking up in all directions and his white shirt hanging low on his collar bones.
“What time is it?” He croaked, settling tiredly by the head of the table, rubbing his face with his hands.
“Half past one.” Bobby replied, setting the table.
“Shit. I overslept.” Hanbin muttered, raking a hand through his hair, the air of frustration surrounding him. He knew better than to ask Bobby to wake him, since he never did if he judged that Hanbin haven't had a good night's sleep, which was always.
“Eat up.” Bobby served a steaming plate of steak and mashed potato, with salad on the side. Bobby took his seat on Hanbin’s right and started digging into his own plate. After a minute, Bobby noticed that Hanbin hasn't touched his food. He was just staring at it, as if the mere thought of lifting the fork and knife was tiresome. He looked as if he wanted to sleep more than he wanted to eat.
“Geez, seriously?” Bobby groaned. It wasn't the first time he had to cut Hanbin’s food to bite sized pieces because he simply couldn't be bothered to. “It's a sad day when a man is too tired to cut his own steak.” With deft movements, Bobby carved the piece of meat and gave the fork to Hanbin.
Hanbin began to sluggishly eat. “S’good.” He said.
It would probably take another half hour for him to finish the food, so Bobby told him about his day, as boring as it was. It took time for Hanbin to gather his wits and join in actual conversation, but that was fine with him. It was kinda cute.
“So I planted roses in the back, hopefully when they bloom you'll let me take a couple in an emergency, in case Jinhwan runs out.” Bobby rambled. “I can also plant them throughout the property if you like, maybe the wall climbing types on the side of the house. It would look so nice in the summer.”
“Pink.” Hanbin mumbled through his food.
“Sorry?”
“Pink roses. Some orange too. Hanbyul and mom would like those.” He said absently.
Bobby grinned, already planning the layout of the garden. Officially, he was a landscaper, but since contracts are running low at the moment, he served as a gardener and a glorified babysitter.
“Bobby…” Hanbin said haltingly, quite different from the self assured architect he knew that he caught Bobby’s full attention.
“I need a favor.”
*
Hanbin squeezed the bridge of his nose as he heard Bobby complain in the fitting room.
“It’s too stuffy. How do you even breathe in this?”
Another scuffle and some slightly alarming yelps. Both from Bobby and the tailor.
“No! No bowtie. Over my dead carcass!” A pause. “What the fu- Are these garters?”
Hanbin scrunched his face between his hands. This is turning out to be a bad idea.
“These are called shirt stays. They keep the hem of your shirt tucked neatly in your pants.” The tailor’s voice reflected ill concealed impatience.
“Well, they look like some stripper shit…” Bobby gruffly. “Who even thinks of this?”
This time, both Hanbin and the tailor heaved a sigh.
A few more minutes and the harried looking tailor bustled out of the fitting room. “I did my best, architect Kim. I hope my efforts deliver.” He said with grave importance.
Bobby stepped out of the fitting room.
Whatever Hanbin was planning to say dried in his throat.
They fitted him an immaculately pressed navy suit, a crisp white shirt open at the neck. Bobby pulled his over long, unruly hair, back into a ponytail that Hanbin can see his gold earring clearly for the first time.
From the dramatic angle of his jaw to the hollow of his collar, lush, tanned skin was accentuated by the blue of the suit jacket.
“You clean up well, I guess.” Hanbin forced out when his wits recovered.
He cleaned up very well indeed. Bobby had wide, leanly muscled shoulders that the jacket hung beautifully from. His long legs encased by the slim fitting pants, leading to polished wingtip shoes.
“Faint praise.” Bobby grinned crookedly at him, his eyes crinkling endearingly at the corners. “You don't look so bad yourself.” Making a show of leering at Hanbin.
Hanbin scoffed, adjusting his cufflinks. He was was wearing a charcoal suit with a slim tie. He brushed his hair up smoothly. That was the extent of him following convention. He kept his multiple earrings and his trademark onyx ring on his index.
“Let’s go.” He left the suit makers knowing they would charge everything in his accounts.
*
“How many ridiculous european cars do you really need?” Bobby nervously looked around the interior of Hanbin’s Maserati. He saw Hanbin’s mouth twitch as the car purred in acceleration.
The car was very much like Hanbin himself. Splendid, sleek and very expensive. Bobby had to consciously stop his jaw from dropping when Hanbin came out of his dressing room. Contrary to the casual clothes that Bobby has seen him in their entire association, Hanbin cut a very fine figure in a suit.
“Remember what I told you…” Hanbin began tersely.
“Yeah, yeah. I am your assistant but try to imply we are something more. Nothing outright, just strong implications.” Bobby droned.
“Yes, and in return I will recommend you to my associates for all their landscaping needs. Plus a bonus.”
The proposition didn't really bother him and he was fine with people assuming his sexuality, he lived for causing mischief. But he didn't understand why Hanbin felt the need to do this. At his sister’s wedding.
“Why are we doing this though? What do you get out of it?” Bobby finally asked. The first time Hanbin asked for the favor, Bobby was too stupefied to ask, but agreed anyway.
“I am being hunted.” Hanbin gripped the steering wheel so hard his knuckles turned white.
“What?” Bobby sputtered. “The fuck?”
“I know, right?” Hanbin breathed. “My father’s former associates are angling for me and my name. They've literally been throwing their daughters at me. My last assistant was one of them.” This was all relayed with an ironic twist of his lips.
Bobby couldn't stop himself. He roared with laughter.
“Oh my god.” He gasped. “The great architect, Kim Hanbin is being hunted by girls and their mothers.” Bobby clutched at his aching sides.
“Funny, I know.” Hanbin rolled his eyes.
“So you'd rather be associated with me and also have them assume that you're gay?”
“It is better for it to be someone relatively unknown.” Hanbin ended simply.
“Man… imagine having in laws that bad, you need to resort to this.” Bobby considered, wincing a little. Maybe being rich and famous isn’t all that after all.
Hanbin actually shuddered. “One of them, Mrs. Clarke… very tenacious. She said that if her daughter did not appeal to me, maybe she would.”
“Holy shit.” Bobby started cackling again. “Was she hot, though?”
“Think sixty year old Sofia Vergara.”
“Hot damn.”
“Yep.”