#googun

[gungoo4lifer]

gungoo core

[sweetmctart]

in another life. another day. i hope we live differently

[okaysonny]

gun's day off ╏ gun park + goo kim

✦ summary: left out of commission, charles orders gun to take the day off.

✦ details: fluff -> angst, no reader, takes place during fourth affiliate, references to a drink between brothers.

✦ wc: 1.3k

✦ a/n: looove writing fics between characters. FAWK X READER!

daniel park broke gun's arm.

it surprises him, to say the least. daniel park possesses ultra instinct. who knew?

the broken arm isn't an issue for him. gun would've gone about his duties regardless if not for the old man.

"one day off, gun" charles had said. "that's not a suggestion"

since when did he suddenly care? is this what they call…male menopause?

it's not that gun can't take days off, but this is essentially a sick day. and gun park…sick? a broken arm and slightly bruised pride.

and so, here he is: standing in the middle of the grocery store, staring blankly at the vegetable aisle.

he reaches for some zucchini when he sees an old woman drop her shopping basket. a cascade of items rolls across the floor. she bends down, her frail hands shaking as she struggles to gather everything.

gun turns back to the vegetable aisle. not his problem, after all.

he glances to her again. she hasn’t managed to pick up much. each time she reaches for something, her hands falter, or she has to pause to steady herself. it's painfully slow.

he exhales deeply. without a word, gun crouches down, his dark shades somehow making the action look calculated. with his unbroken arm, he gathers the groceries efficiently, placing them neatly in her basket.

"oh thank you, young man!" the old woman smiles. she pats his cheek, her voice warm. "you’re so thoughtful. it’s hard to find gentlemen like you these days!"

gun pauses, his shades hiding whatever expression he's wearing. he stands up, dusting off his sleeves.

"you should be more careful" he says flatly, his tone making it impossible to tell whether it's advice or criticism. gun goes to pay for his items before she can say anything else.

as he exits the store, he feels an inexplicable lightness settle over him. before he can dwell on this further, gun spots it.

a head of blonde hair and a bright suit, leaning against the nearby pole.

"well, well, well" goo drawls. "look who's enjoying civilian life!"

gun raises an eyebrow. "joongoo? what are you doing here? how did you find me?"

goo grins, inspecting his nails. "wouldn’t you like to know? maybe i bribed a fortune teller who pointed me in the right direction. or maybe..." he leans in conspiratorially. "...i'm secretly a mind reader"

gun stares at him, unimpressed.

"alright, alright, fine. if you must know..." goo dramatically looks into the horizon. "i scaled three rooftops, dodged a sniper, and interrogated five different people before uncovering your precise location. it was a perilous journey, fraught with danger, but my skills—"

he gets cut off. "i'll ask again, how did you actually find me?"

goo scoffs. "tch. way to ruin the fun" he turns to look at gun again, shoving his hands into his pockets. "boss man’s giving me a bonus to keep an eye on you"

gun is slightly offended. "charles paid you for this?"

"yep. said something about ‘making sure he rests’ and ‘stop him from doing something stupid’ " goo waves his hand dismissively. "blah, blah, blah. i stopped listening halfway through!"

gun exhales sharply. "waste of resources"

"i know right?! not that i'm complaining"

"...leave"

goo smirks. "nah"

gun’s eyes narrow. "i wasn’t asking"

"and i wasn’t complying!" goo quips. "you’re stuck with me whether you like it or not"

gun clenches his jaw. "you’re wasting both our times"

"i'm wasting time?" goo scoffs, folding his arms. "who’s the one loitering around like some tragic anti hero? should i cue the rain?"

he pinches his nose bridge. "goo..."

"gun" the blonde mimics.

"...goo. i'd rather spend my day listening to diego's music than with you"

goo’s smile freezes, his eye twitching.

"you did not just say that"

gun nods solemnly.

his smile transforms into a scowl, turning to walk away. "ugh, screw the bonus and screw that old geezer. i'm not your babysitter"

gun sighs in relief. close one.

but goo's eyes flick to the plastic bag in gun’s hand. "...hey, is that a zucchini?"

gun glances down at the bag. "yes. i was going to make stir-fried zucchini with—"

"oh hell no" goo snatches the bag from him, inspecting the contents. "with these ingredients?"

gun is slightly offended again. "you know i can cook, goo"

"you only know how to make japanese food, sushi man! i've seen the way you cut onions...you disgust me" goo shakes his head in defiance, marching back to the store. "you’re coming with me. we’re buying real ingredients"

gun blinks in disbelief, but slowly follows. winning an argument with goo twice is a loosing battle.

inside the store, goo strolls through the aisles like a man on a mission. he tosses high-quality ingredients into the basket without consultation — fresh herbs, imported spices, artisanal sauces — and dramatically tuts every time he glances at gun’s original choices.

near the alcohol section, his eyes light up. "oh, look at that!" goo says, grabbing a bottle of sake and holding it up to the light. "premium stuff. might as well grab this too, right?"

gun raises an eyebrow. "we don’t need sake for a stir-fry"

goo waves him off, placing it into the basket anyway.

he doesn't bother to argue. again, it's a loosing battle.

gun takes his shades off as him and goo stand in the former's kitchen.

"food is art, gun" goo says, wagging a wooden spoon at him. "and you were about to commit a crime against cuisine"

gun grabs a knife. "i’m slicing the zucchini"

goo snatches it away. "absolutely not. you’ll ruin it. watch and learn"

gun watches intently as goo demonstrates his — admittedly beautiful — slicing technique. "see? thin, uniform, perfect. i bet your sad little slices would’ve been uneven"

gun rolls his eyes but stays silent.

as the dish comes together, goo takes over almost every task.

"no, no, no! you’re flipping it too soon—"

"stop! you’re going to over season that—"

"jesus, do you even taste your food when you cook?”

gun somehow didn't snap his neck.

eventually, the food is plated, and they sit at the table, staring at the zucchini dish. the scent of their perfectly cooked recipe fills the air.

goo watches smugly as gun takes a bite. "admit it. that’s the best zucchini stir fry you’ve ever had"

he chews slowly, knowing it's pointless to lie. "...it's pretty good"

goo sighs, pleased with himself. "well of course it is! i helped make it after all"

gun doesn't respond, instead opting to just take another piece.

goo rummages through one of the plastic bags from earlier and pulls out the bottle of sake. "ta da!" he beams. "we've never shared a drink, right? thought we’d toast to our masterpiece"

gun shakes his head. "i don't really like alcohol"

he pouts. "oh c'mon! i even picked sake because you’re japanese. it’s cultural appreciation! you have to drink it...for your ancestors or something"

gun gives him a deadpan look. "no"

clicking his tongue, goo pours himself a shot anyway. "tch. suit yourself"

he eyes the glass and pauses, staring at the clear liquid for longer than usual. "...maybe you'll change your mind next time?" goo murmurs.

gun glances at goo, his expression unreadable. still, something flickers behind his eyes.

"...next time"

goo raises his shot glass, a small smile on his lips. "yeah. next time"

he takes the shot, the liquid going down smooth and warm.

"anyway!" the blonde claps his hands together, his usual manic energy returning like it never left. "personally, i'd give this dish a solid nine out of ten, but that’s only because i helped. without me? ...three at best"

there's a slight upward tug at the corners of gun's mouth — so brief it’s almost imperceptible. "...you’re delusional"

they go back to eating, the meal continuing as normal. but the words dance and float around them.

next time.

a/n: I don't particularly enjoy drinking alcohol, but I did because it's you. :') ingrained in me.

divider - enchanthings-a

[twentys-hell]

Play fighting

[mystery-hood]

Jace Park & Euntae Lee

Gun Park & Goo Kim

These official arts will always be very special to me. I just love the way Goo hugs Gun and places his hand on Gun's, or Vasco carrying Jace like that, while they both look so happy. I love them so much, these duos should always be together! 💙💜

[qyuubu]

daddy alpha goo defending his imprisoned omega’s honor

[fan-of-chaos]

Not PTJ giving us GunGoo crumbs in his art 😭

Look at them and Goo's arm around Guns shoulders.

[07043012]

Till death do us part

[shintaru]

Know that you made me

I don't like how you paint me, yet I'm still here hanging

Not what you made me

It's something like a daydream

But I feel so seen in the night

So for now, it's only me

And maybe that's all I need

[bonnvivre]

oops!

[gungoo4lifer]

goo kim's favorite hobby is to steal his 'rivals" outfits(s)

[sweetmctart]

we could have been something. anything. but to you, we’re nothing

[winterwump]

LOOKISM SPOILERS

PTJ WHYYTYYYY????

[readiyng]

My roman empire

[loyauno]

GUN DIDN'T EVEN LOOK AT HIM FOR THE ENTIRE SCENE MY FUCKING GOD I HATE THEM

[qyuubu]

gun is used to the dull ache. he doesn’t know where it comes from, or what it even is in the first place. but he can live with it. he’s been living it. he’s fine.

but on rare occasions, something overpowers this ache. a hot, intense, rage.

well, not exactly.

it’s also a mix of hurt, and maybe a dash of longing. why would they both die for him? why couldn’t they be the parents he needed long ago? why now, when he’s all grown and hardened up?

that burning feeling almost seeps into the red lacerations on his body, into the cracks of his ache and continues to torment him everyday, until he’s used to it.

he’s just fine, really. it’s the pain that keeps him going. he briefly considered ending it all honorably, but gun’s just a kid. he wants to live, and the mysterious ache pushes him to feel more aches. the more hurt he is, the more drive he has. a tingling sensation that pushes his limbs to get up everyday and find more reasons to ache.

one day, he finds himself looking over at goo. a man who would likely never die for him. goo could die BECAUSE of gun, but not for him.

and that thought doesn’t hurt, for once. gun doesn’t feel his new lacerations from goo’s sword carry any sort of burden that one day, goo will die and gun had the responsibility of living on in his stead. all it carries is the slashes of a like-minded man and his sentiments. a fighter for the love of the game.

he doesn’t feel the guilt of what could have been whenever he stares at the scars goo made.

whatever goo stirred up in gun is unlike anything he’s ever known—sharp, alien, and borderline unwelcome. there's something strange, almost alive, crawling under his skin. he'll lock it away where no one can find it.

but if it stays out of his work, he’ll allow himself this reckless indulgence.