If you asked Kibum how much he loved his life a few months ago, he would have smiled into his hands and said that he liked his life. And that he was happy.

Because at the time, Kibum was happy. Kibum was 19 years old and lived in a small apartment in a slightly sketchy neighborhood and attended a pretty fantastic school of design in the middle of a large city. He spent a lot of his time obsessing over clay consistency, kiln temperature, and the best time of night for McDonalds runs with his roommate, Jonghyun.

A few months ago, Kim Kibum would have said that he was happy. Sure his life could have been better; he's very certain he would have been happier if he was rich enough to at least afford a nicer apartment in the not sketchy part of town. Or afford to buy himself something nice when he was feeling down. And maybe sometimes he wished he didn't have the urge to strangle his roommate five times out of the week. Kibum was content.

But sometimes life, proved a few dollars short on rent. And so Kibum would find himself in the basement ofSymptoms every Thursday to Saturday night, dancing in a pair of itty bitty sequined shorts. His life could have been worse, but Kibum didn't mind all too much, he was young and having fun.

But this was all before he met Choi Minho.

Now, if you ask Kibum how much he loved his life, he would still smile into his hand, dimples cute on his cheeks, and said that he loved his life, and that he was very happy.

Kibum is currently 20 years old and lived in a spacious flat in a nice neighborhood near his school. He spent a lot of his time obsessing over clay consistency, kiln temperature, and begrudgingly letting his roommate, Jonghyun, use his bubble baths.

A few months later, it was obvious that Kibum was very happy. His life was a lot better; he had finally gotten himself out of that dinky little apartment where the ceiling leaked and the alleyway smelled like urine. His closet was full of nice things and his bed was plush like a cloud. He still wanted to strangle Jonghyun five times out of the week, and sometimes more. But Kibum was very happy.

After he met Choi Minho, his life changed.

-

It all started with Taemin. Taemin was a young recent college grad that had somehow landed the position asthe Choi Minho's personal assistant. The Choi Minho, owner of several fancy art galleries in town. Handsome, personable, and with the work ethic of five horses, he was a popular figure in the elite world of Fine Art. Everybody knew who Minho was, and everyone wanted to be his college, friend, and even lover. And so, it was obvious that the rest of the Social Elite was very much skeptical when Minho hired Taemin to manage his day-to-day activities. But Taemin would soon prove them all wrong when he would not only last an entire year, but would also decline interview requests with a terrifyingly blank smile.

"...and at two we have a meeting with Kim Heechul-sshi," recited Taemin. He furrowed his brow and began to check off another item on the list. "He is interested in an exhibit at Belle Epoque, something to do with the magnificence of his cats--"

"Taemin," interrupted Minho. Taemin stopped what he was doing and looked up at Minho, pen was poised, ready to write down whatever Minho was going to say. A few moments passed without a word and Taemin stared quietly at Minho's back, eyes trained to look for every speck of dust and wrinkle in his suit. He reminded himself to do a quick once over on Minho's right shoulder. Dust on a dark suit was distracting.

Minho was what many called a misunderstood genius. The way his mind worked, spun was at a different dimension than anyone Taemin has ever met. Minho was a shrewd but good boss, always appreciative of hard work, initiative, and a little bit of creativity. He always put 150% and expected the same from everyone. 

The room was quiet as Taemin tried to figure out what Minho needed next - did he require a change of clothes for his meeting with Heechul? Did he have a conflict and wanted to reschedule? Did he not want to meet with Heechul?

Taemin could hear himself breathe as he contemplated what Minho needed. A car honked angrily in the distance, snapping Taemin from his thoughts.

"Sir?" started Taemin.

"Taemin," repeated Minho. He finally turned from his window to stare at Taemin with an unreadable expression on his face.

"I want you to find me someone pretty, someone I can take care of, mentor…pamper..."

Taemin stopped what he was writing, mouth set in a very confused frown.

"What?"

"Oh, I would like to him too, somewhere down the line."

-

It was like any other Friday night for Kibum. He was at Symptoms and had just slipped into his lucky shorts, the skintight gold ones that Jonghyun called his Gold Digger shorts, when Jonghyun came into the dressing room. He leered at Kibum's before giving it a generous squeeze.

"I'm on break," said Jonghyun. "You'll be dancing in cage one."

"Okay," muttered Kibum as he evened out his liner. He stood back and examined himself, frowning at his reflection. He tousled his hair just a little more, opting to go for a 'just been ed' look.

"Need a little bit more glitter on your collarbones, Bummie," said Jonghyun helpfully. "Also your looks so perky today. I just want to bite it."

Kibum smiled and wiggled his bottom at his roommate, giggling when Jonghyun gave his another squeeze. Jonghyun always did have a thing for his , everyone did.

"Key!" called a voice. They both looked up to see Onew standing by the door, scowling slightly. Kibum quirked an eyebrow at Onew's attire, questioning the golden feathers sewn into his shorts. It looked kind of tacky, but then again, they were Go-Go Boys. There wasn't anything not tacky about their job uniforms. "Change of plans, I want you to dance in cage six tonight. I'll be in two."

"But I thought I was going to be in cage one?" asked Kibum without thinking. He inwardly shook his head, and sighed. Everyone knew it was better than to question Onew's fits. Onew scowled again and stomped the ground firmly.

"Because," spat Onew. He sat down and angrily began rubbing baby oil on his chest. "You're wearing gold tonight and I," he gestured at his shorts, the golden material skintight on his hips, accentuating the curve of his thigh. "I am also wearing gold, so I'm moving you to six so you won't take away attention from me," Jonghyun stifled a snort from somewhere to Kibum's left. Onew glared at him.

"Oh," said Kibum. He frowned, unsure if he should sass Onew tonight.

"What is it?" snapped Onew. He dabbed some more glitter on himself, focusing on his thighs. "If you have something to say, then say it."

"Well, uh. Wouldn't it be easier if you move to cage six? I mean you're already in two, so there's no point leaving cage one empty to move me to six…"

Onew's glare was enough to shut Kibum's mouth. It simply wasn't worth it. Nobody could get through to Onew when he's in one of his moods.

"And he used to be so nice too," thought Kibum.

"Nevermind, I must be high still," laughed Kibum. He nervously went back to futzing with his hair. As the reigning diva of Symptoms and the owners boyfriend, Onew could have him fired, and Kibum didn't want that. He had his eye on a fancy pair of sunglasses and should probably pay for rent. "I'll get myself over to cage six."

Onew smiled and blithely went back to applying glitter.

-

Kibum scowled as he walked out of cage six. It was the worst cage in the entire club. It was way out of the way, towards the back and hidden behind a few potted plants. It was the worst for getting extra tips and extra attention from club patrons. Onew knew this and he had sent him over here for a reason. Kibum had spent two hours dancing his off and all for a measly $30 from a pitying business man on his way from the bathroom.

It was time for Kibum's break and he might as well work his magic at the bar. He should at least try to compensate for Onew ruining his major shift.

His eyes brightened as he noticed a well-dressed young man at the bar. Taking in the obviously tailored pants, and the designer tag on a carelessly thrown suit jacket, it was obvious that this man was wealthy. Not to mention really drunk, if by how Amber was making pitying eyes at him. And wealthy drunks meant good tips.

Kibum began preparing his A-Game.

"Well hello there Mister Hugo Boss."

-

"And then!" said Taemin loudly as he shook his head exaggeratedly, his half empty vodka lemonade sloshing everywhere. Amber gently moved his suit jacket out of the way. "And then he had the nerve to be like, 'Oh Taemin, I need someone beautiful, but not too beautiful or else I'd look ugly in comparison. I need someone that is ruthless and knows how to a to get what he wants. Well maybe he didn't say that, Minho is too subtle to say that, but he can be such a at times."

Taemin knew that he was rambling, but he didn't care.

Amber, the bartender, quirked an eyebrow and slid a glass of water at him. Taemin was a regular and she couldn't help but indulge the boy and his work rants. Taemin did seem stressed much of the time. Why Taemin liked to rant over sleezy o music and get sloshed at Symptoms was beyond her.

"Wait," she said. "Him?"

"Him," said Taemin, voice slightly muffled by the table. By now he had his hand cradled in his arms, facedown on the table. "My boss is out and since he's so rich and handsome, everyone automatically accepts it. Ah, the joys of being superbly rich."

"Say," said Amber, leaning forward conspiringly. "Does he, your boss, take substitutes or something? I'm willing to help the man spend some of that money, but no weird stuff, sounds good?"

"Oh gawd Amber," slurred Taemin. "He did imply that if I find the wrong candidate, he'd bust my ."

"What about asses?" said a voice.

Taemin looked up blearily to see a dark haired boy slide into the seat next to him. The other winked before leaning forward and stole a sip of Taemin's drink. "Because I'm always up for a nice busting."

It took Taemin all but a moment to realize that the other boy was perfect. "You're perfect!" he blurted out before he wobbled drunkenly and spilled his drink all over the counter.

-

Taemin woke up the next day in his apartment with a horrible headache. He didn't remember much from the night before - it had began like his usual Friday at Symptoms, drinking to the point of incoherency and ranting to Amber and ended in a question mark. Taemin shook his head, frowning at just how dry his mouth was and how unpleasant his head felt.

"Augh gross," he mumbled before a small ding caught his attention. It was his phone. After a few minutes of digging, Taemin finally found his phone underneath his shorts. He glanced at his phone and quirked an eyebrow. "What is this?"

He had opened his email inbox and the first thing he saw was what appeared to be a meeting acceptance. An acceptance from someone named Kim Kibum.

"Did I set this up?" he wondered.

"Interview with Kim Kibum. Next Tuesday at 11:30am. 1 Hour."

-

Taemin had all but forgotten about Kibum's meeting until Tuesday morning. Minho had forgotten to tell Taemin about Heechul's visit, and Taemin had spent most of the rest of his weekend preparing an entertainment itinerary for the eccentric artist.

So it really was a surprise when he got a visitor on Tuesday morning. A sharply dressed visitor that showed up at 11:25.

"Hello?" said Taemin. "Uh, can I help you?" He said, taking in the male's blue peacoat, snapback, leather skinnies, and brightly patterned socks. Taemin's mind was going a mile a minute to figure out who this mysterious male was and what he was doing in Minho's office. And then it clicked, just as the visitor opened his mouth to speak.

"I'm Kim Kibum, I believe I have a job interview at 11:30?" Kibum smiled, cheeks dimpling, softening the sharp contours of his face. He looked younger then, a lot more approachable, but still stunningly charming. "We met at Symptoms, and afterwards you spilled your drink across my lap."

Taemin's face heated up as he remembered their meeting. "Oh god," he blurted out. "So you are real, I thought I had a fever dream that night"

Kibum threw his head back and laughed. His entire body shook as he chuckled at Taemin's outburst. "Well, I do get that a lot," he said breezily. "But it's usually when I'm giving people a ."

Taemin choked and flailed confusedly. So this was the candidate that he thought would be perfect for Minho's social companion. He was starting to question just how drunk he was. Kibum, while beautiful enough, gorgeous even, was a bit too careless with his words and unrefined. Minho wouldn't like anyone that vulgar and would bust Taemin's for even thinking he would be interested in him. He had to get Kibum to leave before Minho came back from his morning appointment.

"Never again will I get that drunk," Taemin muttered under his breath. He looked up at Kibum and smiled brightly, plastering his signature doe-eyed expression on his face. "I'm sorry Kibum, but it appears as if we have already found the candidate, thank you for your interest," he recited. He was already getting up to lead Kibum out when Kibum laughed again.

"Oh honey, really?" he said. His smile became feral, ruthless. Taemin was stunned if for a moment, he had seen that same kind of expression on Minho's face, when he didn't want to lose a contract. "If you're thinking that I'm too uncultured for this job then you could have at least been honest and said something. But," he paused, hips cocked as he fluffed his bangs. "Your boss would be missing out on the value I can add to his day."

Taemin sputtered confusedly. "Value?"

Minho walked through the doorway, eyes trained on what looked like a report in his hands. He stopped at Taemin's desk, quietly skimming through his papers.

"Taemin," said Minho. "Are my expense reports ready? Also who is this?" Kibum grinned politely as he realized that he had Minho's attention. He stood up straight, head high, posture confident.

Taemin wracked his brain for an appropriate way to introduce Kibum, but only drew blanks. He wasn't sure how Minho would react to a surprise go-go boy stripper maybe even e in his office, but most people would not react very well.

"Um, so er," began Taemin. "This is Kim Kibum…and he is here for an interview…" he finished uncertainty. Kibum continued smiling, unfazed by Taemin's lackluster introduction.

"Good job Taemin, I was starting to think that you had forgotten my request," said Minho. He nodded approvingly at Taemin.

"Delighted to meet your acquaintance," murmured Kibum, as he bowed slightly.

"Charmed," said Minho. He smiled faintly, eyes crinkling handsomely. "Kibum would you have time to interview with me? Perhaps lunch?"

"I would love to."

"Excellent! Taemin, cancel my meetings this afternoon with Heechul. I have more important things to handle."

-

"Are you sure it's okay to cancel your afternoon meetings?" asked Kibum. He turned around to glance at a quietly panicking Taemin, who was on the phone. "I mean, I know who Kim Heechul is, and I don't mind rescheduling…"

"Kim Heechul is a filthy rich, demanding man who I have the displeasure of doing business with," said Minho. He opened the door for Kibum to walk through, ever the gentleman. "You are my charming guest, and I would rather take a pleasurable lunch with you any day. My treat. How would you like Italian?"

"Well, if you insist," purred Kibum. He walked through the door, making sure to swing his hips just so. He smiled as he felt a lingering stare on his leather clad behind.

-

Minho took Kibum to an expensive restaurant in the heart of town, one that Kibum could only dream of dining in. He had been nervous that Minho would take him to a fancy restaurant, but this was even more than he would have imagined.

Already he had gotten his fair share of dirty looks from the waiter for his skintight leather pants and patterned snapback, but he took it in stride. He knew he looked good, he knew that Minho thought he looked good, and that was all that mattered.

-

"And that is how I landed an internship with Natsuko," said Kibum. He took a small sip of his glass of wine, smile sweet and coquettish. "She was a wonderful boss, I learned a lot about throwing from her, about how perfect imperfect plates are. The beauty of handmade…"

Kibum paused, hand idle as he traced the edge of his plate.

"Natsuko has such a magical touch for tableware," said Kibum, he looked up and smiled, this time honestly. His eyes softened fondly as he spoke of his previous boss. "She can make even the simplest pieces so personable, so beautiful. I hope to be like her - open up my own shop and sell my work."

The table was quiet, both parties lost in thought. Kibum smiled nervously, suddenly aware that the conversation had turned serious. "I'm sorry," he said, cheeks flush. "I must be boring you…"

"I love Natsuko's work," Minho blurted out. He gestured at the plate, and then at Kibum. "There is something innately beautiful about homemade tableware, something that you can't find mass-produced at a Willams Sonoma. I've always wanted to hold an exhibition for her ceramics, especially some of her tableware. But we seem to miss each other."

"So you understand," said Kibum simply. His looked away, cheeks a dark flush. "I would not have taken you as someone that would understand tableware ceramics."

"Well, I am the owner of a couple of art galleries, no big deal," joked Minho. Kibum laughed, almost nervously. His laugh a happy sound that was out of place in the high-end restaurant they were in. Minho laughed as well, though much more quietly.

It soon fell quiet again as they stared at each other.

"So," started Kibum. Minho leaned forward and gave Kibum his full attention. "What kind of job is this interview for? If you don't mind that I ask? I mean, Taemin did say that you were looking for a social companion, whatever that means. But Taemin was really drunk, and I realize that I'm rambling and I'm usually not like this unless I'm nervous and--"

"It's because I'm lonely," interrupted Minho. Kibum fell quiet, hand fumbling with his napkin. "And I want someone to spoil, take care of, mentor even. I can see that you have big dreams, and I have the funds to help you realize them, if you let me."

Kibum bit his lip, suddenly realizing what Minho was looking for.

"So, you want to take care of me?" he said, voice uncharacteristically small . "You want to buy things for me? What's the catch?"

"There is no catch," said Minho. He coughed quietly before continuing. He leaned in closer, close enough so that Kibum could smell the pine notes in his cologne. It smelled wonderful. "When I asked Taemin to find a suitable candidate, I had told him specifically that I wanted someone beautiful, intelligent, engaging, hardworking, and honest with himself. And I think you are more than qualified in those areas."

"Thank you, but there must be a catch."

"There is no catch," repeated Minho. "I am not looking for someone to just have with, I'm looking for a companion. Someone that needs me as much as I need him. And In exchange for his time, I help him with my resources. You mentioned your dream about opening up a shop, about how you want but can't afford certain things in life. I can make it all happen."

Minho paused, suddenly hesitant and shy in reaching for Kibum's hand. Kibum bit his lip, startled as Minho reached for his hand. He didn't know how to react. He has no qualms about dancing, mostly undressed for a few dollars, but was suddenly shy as his hand was held.

Kibum liked Minho well enough, but did not know what to do as Minho, the member of the elite, treated Kibum so kindly. Kibum's hands were clammy in nervousness.

"Kibum, would you be my sugar baby?"