#dg

DG pulled you into a lover’s embrace and said, “Let’s make it official now, noona.”

“Enough already. I’m tired of your jokes.” You tried to get away and like a fly struggling in the maw of a Venus flytrap, you only made it worse. 

His arms squeezed the breath out of your lungs and DG put his chin on the top of your head. “If only I were born a little earlier,” he whispered.

He finally loosened his grip, but didn’t let go. 

DG took a step back and met your gaze. “Noona has the morals of a normal person so I told myself I’ll be patient, but I’ve overestimated my patience… or perhaps I underestimated my greed.”

It was hard to look away from those silver eyes of his.

“I know that you met me when I was just a brat. Maybe I wouldn’t be so impatient if you still saw me as that thug who followed you around. But I’m not blind.”

He cupped one side of your face. 

“I don’t know if you’re doing it on purpose or maybe you’re just dense…it’s pretty cruel of you to give me hope only to keep rejecting me.”

Now that pissed you off. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

He smiled. “We’re both adults, noona.”

He then whispered directly to your ear, “So how long will you deny us what we both want?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking abou—”

He was kissing you now. He tasted as sweet as mangoes.

But Diego kissing you was no more surprising than you kissing him back.

You almost lost yourself in his hold if not for the noise of incoming employees, causing you to panic and shove him off.

The staff passed by, greeting you both, but you stayed quiet. You kept your eyes on the floor.

Once they were gone, DG stared at you. “I’m sorry for kissing you so suddenly. This isn’t how I wanted it to happen, but am I wrong to think that you liked it too?”

“I…” You hung your head, too ashamed and confused to face him. “I can’t do this right now.”

“I understand.”

He let you go. “Please enjoy the rest of the morning. I’ll leave first. I assume your brother will pick you up?”

He shouldn’t have to leave. This was his free trip.

“Ja—Diego, wait.”

“Don’t worry about me.” He grabbed your hand and raised it to his lips. “I visit places like this all the time.”

You didn’t see Diego during the remaining hours at the spa.

No more than ten minutes in the sauna, you left, unable to relax as the heat only exacerbated your emotions.

There was no trace of DG when you returned to your suite. 

You felt too guilty to relax so you packed up your things and while waiting for the elevator, you looked up any nearby convenience stores where you could wait for Gun.

Ding.

You stepped inside, focused on your phone.

“...seven-minute walk away…” you muttered. 

“What is?”

“Oh, pardon me, I didn’t mean to—” you finally looked up and your mood soured “—talk aloud…”

Gitae Kim stood before you. Fully dressed this time. There were no traces of lipstick and perfume on him, which made you mildly happy for some reason. (You knew the reason, but you were too proud to admit it.)

“Leaving already?” he asked, glancing at your luggage.

“What gave me away?” The lame quip left your mouth before you could stop it, so you coughed and added, “I figured I should leave early to beat the afternoon traffic.”

“...”

“...”

You didn’t mind dead air, if anything, you preferred it over small talk, but you couldn’t stand the way he looked at you. It wasn’t a gross, shameless leering that many men would subject you to (though there was definitely a hint of lust in his eyes that he didn’t bother to hide)—he stared at you like he was trying to figure you out. Like he had a thousand questions at the back of his throat.

“...”

“...”

Gitae Kim: (⊙ _ ⊙ )

You: (ᴗ_ ᴗ  )

Gitae Kim: (⊙ _ ⊙ )

You: (ᴗ_ ᴗ ᵕ)

You glared at the operating panel. Why’s this damn elevator taking so fricking long?

As if hearing you curse at it, the elevator jittered and shook you off balance.

Gitae caught you by the arms as the elevator stopped moving completely.

You glanced up at the ceiling or whatever its elevator equivalent is called; you kept your poker face but in your head you were raging at the heavens with one word: WHY?

“Hey.”

“Huh?” You remembered that you weren’t the only captive right now.

Gitae was still holding you.

You gave him a nod. “Thanks.”

“...”

You tried to get up to hit the emergency button, but his hands were immovable. “Is something wrong?” you asked.

“Why do you keep avoiding me?”

What do you think, you father-killing gangster?! Plus, who wants to eat breakfast time with a fling? “Avoiding is…” You paused and reconsidered your word choice. Gitae Kim (or any of the Kim men for that matter) was not known for his brains, but he wasn’t an idiot. You were both adults so there was no reason to skirt around the issue like a lovesick highschooler.

You explained: “I didn’t mean to offend you, but as I have said before, neither of us are looking for anything serious. I don’t see the point in making things awkward by forcing us to act friendly when we can just be strangers. Two passing ships in the night, as they say.”

“...”

He was surprisingly untalkative today.

Then he replied, “That still doesn’t explain why you’re avoiding me.”

You take it back. Gitae Kim is an idiot. 

Keeping your calm, you continued, “I doubt you’re interested in a platonic relationship so there’s really no reason for us to spend time together.”

His hands move from your arms to your waist. “Maybe we don’t want a serious relationship, but why should that stop us from having fun?”

Ah, yes. Friends with benefits (minus the friendship). You’ve had similar arrangements in the past, with classmates and co-workers; it was safer than flings with complete strangers. Most of them worked out, a few ended disastrously. But that’s a story for another day.

You scanned Gitae’s form. Strong jaw, big nose. Wide shoulders, perfect for grabbing. A rock-hard torso that tapered down to a slender waist. Thick thighs that were begging to be straddled…

You shook your head. “Nope. Sorry. I think one night is enough for me.” You already rode this dragon and you reminded yourself that Gitae Kim looked more delicious than he tasted. Size wasn’t everything. Actually, it was difficult to have fun when he was so needlessly huge.

But… you stole a glimpse of the bulge straining under his jeans. 

You gulped.

…with enough preparation and sufficient training, he would be perfect…

Calloused fingers snuck under your blouse, dancing over the clasp of your bra. 

Gitae was smirking. “Your thoughts are written all over your face.”

His warm hands on your bare skin was the wake up call you needed.

You smacked his arms away. “Are you insane? You realize we’re in an elevator, don’t you? There’s a camera and—shit, I forgot to hit the button!” 

“Don’t worry, I did it while you were ogling my thighs.”

“I wasn’t ogling you, asshole—!”

He cupped your face with one hand. God, he had large hands.

“W-what?” 

He gave you a small smile. “You’re finally looking at me.”

“???”

“Who is James Lee to you?”

You thought for a moment before answering, “My fiancé.”

“...”

“If I tell you that, would you believe me?”

He looked at you and then he scoffed, “Ha. Not one bit.”

“Good, because he’s not. Anyway, our…I guess our ‘relationship’ is a long story, one that would bore you to tears so if you want to hear about it, go pester DG.” You glared at him even harder. “Now, would you kindly let me go? Your hand smells like potato chips.”

He freed you just as the elevator started up again.

You grabbed your mirror and a wet wipe from your purse.

Gitae Kim quietly watched you dab your face. 

You stared at his reflection, and, after a few more seconds of silence, found yourself speaking again, “You really do look a lot like him.”

That stone face cracked at the mention of his father.

You looked over your shoulder and met his wide eyes. “Though you’re definitely taller.”

The elevator slowed and you faced forward again.

Gitae chuckled.

The door slid open.

You pulled on your luggage, but Gitae snatched it from you. 

“What are you doing?”

“You’re going to the convenience store, right? I’ll walk you there. I need a smoke.”

It felt like he added the last part when he saw you about to say no. Maybe he did, but you didn’t care.

Against your better judgment, you thanked him.

After ten minutes of the manager bowing and apologizing for the incident with the elevator (it would have been much longer if not for Gitae making it clear that he wanted to leave), she let you and Gitae go with a complementary fruit basket and a buttload of gift cards for any beauty product associated with their spa. 

When you arrived at the 7-Eleven, Gitae stayed seated with you inside.

“I thought you were gonna smoke.”

“I changed my mind.”

“Fine. Stay here and watch my stuff.”

You disappeared and then returned with two cups of coffee. “Here.”

“...”

“Do you want cream or sugar?” 

“...it feels odd seeing you be nice to me for real.”

You guess your acting during breakfast wasn’t as stellar as you thought. “Shut up and drink.”

“Ah. Much better.”

The veins in your forehead throbbed. 

Gitae watched you take a sip before he asked, “So, why sixty-eight pesos?”[1]

“You remember that, huh?”

“Kind of hard to forget. I figured a night with me should at least be ten million US dollars.”

“I’m almost jealous of your confidence.” It was almost as megalomaniac-sized as DG’s. 

“Well?”

You took another sip and said, “I was one peso short.”

“Are...are you serious?”

You shook your head. “It was my rating for the night. Six point eight.”

“Out of ten?”

You didn’t answer.

He snorted. “You’re a funny girl.”

“I know.”

He started his coffee, which was sweeter than he usually took. But he saw your satisfied expression and kept drinking.

After a whole minute of undisturbed peace, he asked, in a hesitant tone that felt unbefitting of the Gitae Kim, “What was he like? I mean, with you?”

“He was annoying.”

“Pfft.” 

“What?”

“Oh, nothing. I just…I didn’t expect someone like you to describe him like that.”

“Someone like what, exactly?”

He looked up in thought and then back at you. “Someone normal. Didn’t you say he was your benefactor?”

“Yeah. He forge—I mean, he helped me settle here, in South Korea. I didn’t know the language, I had no money, no connections. Gapryong Kim paid for my schooling and found me a home.”

“Doesn’t sound like a man you would call ‘annoying.’”

You shrugged. “It’s not like he did all those things out of the goodness of his heart. It was payment.”

“Payment?”

“I found one of his men on the streets. There was a gang fight and he was badly injured.”

“What, did you perform CPR on him or something?”

“...yeah, something like that.” It was an emergency thoracostomy.[2] The man had a collapsed lung. But a thoracostomy was an advanced medical procedure that you learned from your first life, one reserved for doctors and something a child had no business performing. 

“Anyway,” you said, changing the subject, “when Gapryong-nim asked how he could repay me, I asked for his help. I told him he couldn’t put a price on a person’s life and a decade of raising me was nothing.”

Gitae let out a sound of amusement. 

“I was busy studying so I rarely saw him, but when I did he kept feeding me and he always sent me new clothes.”

“...how is that annoying?” Your listener sounded almost jealous.

Well, it wasn’t like you didn’t understand. You must have seemed like a complete brat right now.

“It was annoying because it felt like he was trying to use me. Not in a gross way—” you reassured Gitae, who looked ready to punch the table “—he was a man desperately repenting.[5] Whenever he looked at me, I could tell that he didn’t see me, but someone else. It’s weird. I don’t know how else to put it. I guess it’s kinda confusing, huh?”

“A little.”

“Right?” You laughed. “He was annoying to be around, and he was a notorious womanizer despite being married. But…I didn’t dislike him. That’s why I wish I could’ve been by his side when he died.”

You raised the paper cup to your lips, pretending not to notice how his breath hitched. “Maybe I could’ve done something to save him.”

“No.”

You turned to Gitae. He was staring down his coffee. 

“I don’t think you could have done anything,” he said.

You tried to lighten the mood so you rolled your eyes. “Gee, thanks.” You tried to sound insulted. “Did you forget that I saved your ass once?”

“I meant—”

The Imperial March blasted from your phone.

“What the hell is that?”

You checked the caller ID. “It’s my brother.” DG must have messed with your ringtone again.

“Hello?”

“Nee-san, I’m outside the store. Where are you?”

“I see your car. Hold on, I’ll be right out.” You hung up.

Gitae was already on his feet, holding your luggage and the basket. “I’ll walk you there.”

“You really don’t have to.”

He cocked an eyebrow. “You expect me to believe you can carry these things?”

He didn’t wait for your reply. He went straight outside.

You died before Lookism ended so you have no clue who would win between Gitae Kim and your brother. But you were sure that it wouldn’t be quick and bloodless.

“Wait!”

You chased after him, but it was too late. 

Your brother stood a few feet from the entrance and Gitae already stepped out the door.

“Gun!” You stepped between them. “Why did you get out of the car?”

“I…was going to grab your luggage…” His black eyes fell on the bag—your bag, which Gitae was carrying.

These two battle freaks were sizing each other up.

“Aw, that’s sweet of you! We should probably go—”

“Gitae Kim,” Gun whispered, “why the hell are you with my sister?”

“Oh, Gun, don’t be rude, sweetie.” You hurried to his side and hooked your arm around his. He wouldn’t throw a punch while you were hugging him.

…right?

“Y-you wouldn’t believe what happened back in the resort. Gitae and I got stuck in an elevator. How hilarious is that?”

Gun’s muscles tightened and you coughed. 

In retrospect, mentioning how you were alone with Gitae Kim wasn’t the brightest move.

“That is hilarious. Lol.” Goo appeared beside you, hands in his pockets and looking like he stumbled into a goldmine.

“Goo?”

“Sup, angel. Looks like you… ‘made a new friend,’ amirite, Gun?” He then cackled. There was no way they didn’t know Gitae’s reputation with women.

He was instigating your brother.

“Gun, I do have work tomorrow so can we—”

Gitae Kim, who was staying still this whole time, finally stepped forward.

Gun gently pushed you backward, preparing to fight.

But instead of throwing a punch, Gitae merely pushed the basket and bag towards him.

“You heard her, she has work tomorrow. Better get moving.”

Taking this chance, you grabbed the basket and shoved it into Goo’s arms, then you took your back and held Gun’s hand.

“Thank you, Mister Kim.” You did your best to sound as formal and distant as possible.

You then dragged your brother back to the car.

Once Gun settled in the driver’s seat, you could finally breathe.

Goo observed your reflection on the rearview mirror. “This has to be the first time I’ve seen anyone more stressed than ever after a free spa trip.”

“...just…” You closed your eyes. “Let’s just go home.”

—thankfully, neither Gun nor Goo asked you about DG or Gitae Kim. 

You expected your brother to react childishly to the whole ordeal, so you didn’t mind his pouting. Frankly, you were grateful for any reaction that didn’t involve violence (living in this world has severely impacted your standards for how men should express themselves). However, Goo was  strangely silent during the car ride and he didn’t stay the night like he usually did.

You rolled onto your belly, your cheek hitting the linen. 

You really wished the weekend had a third day so you could decompress.

“...maybe I should call in sick today.”

“That’s an idea.”

“What the—!?”

Goo Kim was standing over the cot, beaming. 

“Hope you don’t mind, I picked your lock.” He thumbed at the door. “That’s a lie. I just sliced that thing, you know, that metal thingy that keeps it locked.”[3]

“You’re paying for that.”

“Relax, just tell the principal that someone broke in—”

“You did”

“—since this place has insurance. But enough boring talk, let’s go play hooky.”

“Ta-da!” Goo removed your blindfold. 

After some back and forth, you let yourself be dragged to Goo Kim’s “hideout.” It was what you expected Gun’s condo to look like: sleek lines, leather and wood furniture, the latest toys, loads of junk food and alcohol; the ultimate bachelor pad.

“Wow.”

“Is she gorgeous or is she gorgeous?”

“I’d whistle if I could.”

Goo boasted that it was exclusive to “his people,” which included you now, apparently.

You two started with a friendly game of scram.[4]

You won the first four rounds, though you had a feeling Goo kept losing on purpose. He slipped, tripped and missed way too many times for it to just be “bad luck.” 

You didn’t mind; winning was winning, after all. 

And it was…sweet.

You two agreed on a break and Goo ordered buffalo wings, nachos and iced tea.

“See, isn’t this better than rotting at home with that doberman breathing down your neck every two seconds?”

“Gun’s not that bad.” You offered him some wet wipes.

“You need to be firmer with that brother of yours. Don’t you feel bad for your future boyfriend slash husband? I’m pretty sure Gun’s going to live with you guys until the day he dies.”

“You’re exaggerating.”

“I’m really not.” Goo cleaned his hands, already feeling sorry for the future version of you. 

He imagined what Gun’s face would look like when you announce that you were dating, and then what he would look like when you declare your engagement. For a split second, Goo snickered at the thought of your future husband peeing himself in front of Gun. 

A normal guy should be the perfect match for you. You lived in the light while your brother, Goo and everyone else in their circle belonged in the shadows. But at the same time, Goo couldn’t help but think that an ordinary bastard had no right to stand beside you.

You were a civilian. You couldn’t fight. You were Gun Park’s Achilles heel. 

But you were smart, funny and mature, and undeniably cute. You deserved a hella lot more than some Plain Jane salaryman, who would never appreciate you.

“Goo?” You were waving your hand in front of him. “Earth to Goo.”

“Huh?”

“You said you wanted to play a videogame after darts.  I don’t like racing so can we do a fighting game?”

He stared at your face. 

“Hello, space cadet?”

“Hm? Oh. Uh, yeah. Sure.”

“...is it really okay for me to be here?”

“I wouldn’t have brought you here if it wasn’t.”

“Cool.” You got up and walked over to his videogame collection. “Fascinating, so you have them separated by genre then arranged alphabetically…”

You were rambling—praising his organizing system. 

For once, he was pleased to hear someone talk more than he was. You didn’t have a melodious or even notable voice; like many parts of you, your voice was adorably average, but Goo found himself loving every word that left your mouth.

You returned with Tekken 6. 

Goo clapped. “Excellent choice.”

“An oldie but goodie.”

After three rounds, you sighed and paused the game. “Goo, you don’t have to let me win.”

“You don’t like winning?”

“It was fun the first few times but now it just feels insulting. I’m fine with you kicking my butt, I’m not a sore loser like my brother.”

He snorted. “He says the same thing about you whenever we play anything. Of course, I never let him win.” Gun sucked at fighting games, which was something Goo liked to remind him. 

“I’m flattered,” you said flatly. “I’m changing my character.”

“Dibs on Lili.”

“You’re already Lili.”

“Well, dibs anyway. I don’t want us playing the same character.”

“Why not?”

“House rules.” One that he made up on the spot.

You laughed and he was happy with his decision.

“Okay, okay. I’ll get Jin.”

A karate practitioner. You originally chose Kazuya, Jin's father and another karate master. Did you choose these men because they reminded you of your brother? If so then…well, maybe Gun wasn’t the only strange one in this relationship.

But then, he remembered that Jin was an illegitimate child. 

“Hey…” Goo drawled. 

You hummed in reply, too focused on the screen.

“Uh…” For the first time in forever, Goo Kim wasn’t sure how to bring up a topic. 

“What is it?”

“How do you know that guy?”

“A name would narrow it down, thanks.”

He coughed, “Gitae Kim.”

Your hands twitched but you kept playing. “He’s just some guy I know.”

“He seemed to like you enough. You guys friends?”

“We’re not that close.” You glanced at him from the corner of your eye. “But you seem to know him.”

“I guess you can say we work in the same field.”

He watched you closely and you seemed to accept his explanation. 

“But,” he said, pausing the game, “you shouldn’t hang around him. That guy’s a loose cannon.”

“Worse than you?”

“No one’s worse than me.” He winked.

You laughed again, the sound tickling his chest. 

“I’ll keep that in mind. Thanks.”

“No problem.”

You put a hand over his.

He looked up; your exhausted features have softened into a small, lovely smile. 

“I mean it, Goo. Thank you.”

“...don’t mention it.”

You let go. “One more?”

“Yeah. Actually, wait.” He put down his controller. “Let me turn on the AC.”

He didn’t wait for you to respond as he shot up to his feet.

He clenched and unclenched his hand. 

It was uncomfortably warm today.

Diego Kang’s personal assistant was getting worried.

Her boss had been locked in his study ever since he returned early from the spa. That was thirty-one hours ago.

Diego was the ideal employer. He paid more than the industry average, he had a strict policy on schedules so zero overtime, and he never raised his voice. Plus, DG always kept his composure. If there was a moment where he felt irritated, the world would have no way of knowing. 

Unfortunately, DG was in a peculiar mood today. 

He didn’t greet his driver or his PA, he refused to pick up his phone, and he hasn’t left his study in hours.

His assistant steeled herself and knocked on the door. “S-sir? I brought you something to eat. It’s grilled salmon. Y…your manager wanted me to t-t-tell you to stop ignoring his calls.”

No answer.

“Um, if you don’t like salmon, then a-at least have some water and I-I’ll get you something else.”

The PA let out a sigh of relief when she heard movement—his footsteps, followed by the door unlocking.

However, her smile froze when she saw the heavy circles around DG’s eyes.

“Thanks for bringing me dinner. Leave it anywhere.”

“It’s actually breakfast but you’re welcome! I will…!?”

She still hasn’t gotten used to the life of the ultra-rich. Even for a penthouse, the study was bigger than what she expected. But that wasn’t what caught her off guard—

Dozens of tiny velvet boxes littered the space. 

Rings. 

DG wore jewelry, so this shouldn’t be a baffling revelation, except these weren’t any old accessories. These were glittering, sparkling, bankruptcy-inducing engagement rings. 

The PA recognized household names like Cartier and Tiffany, but there were also brands reserved only for the one percent like Boucheron and Harry Winston. There must have been at least three rings per brand. Any one of these rings cost more than what the PA could ever hope to save in a lifetime.

“Leave it anywhere,” DG repeated from his seat. He said it so casually, like there weren’t diamonds and sapphires on every surface of his office.

DG didn’t seem concerned that she might steal one of the rings (not that she would). He was bent over his desk, scribbling—no, drawing.

Thinking “what the hey,” his assistant brought the tray over to his side and she discretely (well, she tried) snuck a peek over his shoulder.

“Sir…”

“Thank you. You can take the rest of the night off.”

She was about to inform him that it was morning and the manager would be pissed, but DG’s tone left no room for protest, so the PA bowed and left.

As she got onto the elevator, she thought about DG’s waste bin. It overflowed with crumpled pieces of paper. She wondered if they contained the same thing he was furiously sketching on his desk: wedding bands.

Gitae Kim blew out a stream of smoke.

He hadn’t heard of Gun Park until today, and based on his instincts, he could tell that guy was strong. He wanted to fight him right then and there, but when he saw your face as you struggled to separate the two of them, Gitae let it go.

He glanced at the report his men sent him.

“She’s a yakuza princess but she hates violence, that’s gotta be troublesome.” 

As he mumbled these words, your voice—a memory from years ago—echoed in his head: “She kept saying that she failed and blamed me for being born as a girl.”[6]

He sighed and put down the folder.

You weren’t a princess.

He recalled Gun Park’s tranquil fury, Goo Kim’s silent jealousy, and best of all, James Lee’s blatant possessiveness. Gitae grinned and raised his pipe, thinking of the day when he could steal away his Cinderella.

[1] See "Like Water for Chocolate" TLDR: After their one-night stand together, Noona left 68 MXN on the nightstand.

[2] Thoracostomy: an invasive medical procedure wherein a tube is inserted in the patient's pleural space to drain fluid or air.

[3] He's referring to the latch bolt.

[4] Scram is a two-player dart game. During one round, one player is the "stopper" and the other is the "scorer." The goal for the latter is to score as many points as possible before the stopper claims all the numbers.

[5] For new/confused readers, in this series, Noona was originally reborn during the Pre-Generation Era. She died and was reborn again, but she doesn't remember her time with Gapryong Kim and the Yamazakis. Here is a brief summary of the timelines.

[6] See "If I Love You, Beware" TLDR: During pillow talk, Noona told Gitae that her mother (in this world) killed herself because she wanted a son.

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Disclaimer: The images used are screencaptures of Ep. 478, 557, 481 & 519 - Lookism, Webtoon.

My Baby Brother is the Strongest Character Masterlist