Gwilym Lee Imagines

You Look Good in a Suit

Please, don't judge me for my obvious lack of sport knowledge 😅

Finally, a week off! I have been waiting for a long time for this moment to come, and guess what I am going to do? Absolutely nothing! Except maybe eat, sleep and catch up on my many books that I have bought but not actually read yet. I sit on the couch, blanket wrapped around me, coffee beside me and my chosen book, open and ready on my lap. I begin to read.

When I wake up, the other side of my bed is empty... "Fuck!" My phone blasts out it's ring tone beside me, and I'm surprised my book hasn't gone flying with the fright I got. One sentence, I just read one sentence. I set my book aside and with a sigh, answer the phone call without looking at the caller ID. "Hello?" I say with a bored tone. 

"Really, Y/N? Is that any way to say hello to your best bitch?" Lucy's accusatory but amused tone fills my ears and I immediately smile.

"Fine. Hello Your Majesty." I say in a sarcastic but grand tone. "Is that better?"

"Oh, that's perfect." We laugh together. "As much as I wish this was a catch up session, seeing as we're way overdue for one, I'm calling because I have a favor to ask of you."

"Sure, what's up?"

"So, my friend Gwilym needs a suit in less than two weeks for the Oscars and, since your an up and coming fashion designer who made my gorgeous Oscars dress,  I was wondering if you could make the suit for him?" One of the biggest nights for film of the year and I might have two of my designs on the red carpet.

"Lucy, honey, flattery will get you everywhere. Of course I'll do it!" 

"Great! That's great!" She exclaims excitedly. "Thank you so much, Y/N. You're a lifesaver. I'll be over at your studio with Gwilym at ten tomorrow morning." Before I could even say a word, she hangs up the phone. 

Two designs at the Oscars. Well, I guess that means I won't be getting my week off. Let's just hope this guy isn't as bad as some of my other clients.

***************

Why the fuck did I say yes to this? Less than two weeks until the Oscars and I have to design a perfect suit from scratch. I'll be lucky if I even get it done by then. And I've seen the Gwilym guy in that movie of theirs. He's not short, at all! This is going to need a lot of material, a lot of late nights - maybe even all nighters, and an obscene amount of coffee to get this done.

But, who doesn't love a challenge?

There is a knock at the door, surprising me, before Lucy bursts into the room, dropping her bag by the couch, and comes in straight for a hug.

"I'm surprised you knocked. Even when I have a client, you always just burst in." Lucy pulls away, smiling at me.

"And I would have done just that if Gwilym didn't force me to be polite and knock." I look over her shoulder and that's when I see Gwilym standing there, looking down at his feet sheepishly. Cute. 

"Anyway," Lucy says, snapping my attention back to her as she walks to her back by the couch, "thank you again for doing this on such short notice, Y/N. Gwil's designer pulled out last minute due to a family emergency. I know it's going to be a lot of work to do in such a short amount of time, which is why I got you this." Lucy pulls out a bottle of my favorite wine from her bag, instantly making me smile as she hands it to me.

"Thank you! I'm definitely going to need this."

"But not while working, right, Y/N? We don't want any crooked seams showing up on the carpet." I shrug.

"Why not? Gwilym can just pass it off as a fashion statement, can't you?" I look over at him, trying to hold off a smile as he looks nervously between us. "I'm joking, Gwilym. Don't worry." I laugh, causing him to laugh with relief. "Right, we should probably get started if we want that suit completed in time." He nods.

"And I'll take that as my que to leave. Have fun you two!" Lucy turns and leaves, closing the door behind her and I take a deep breath. Lets get to work.

***********

"You have no idea what you are talking about, Y/N. Wales is definitely going to beat England in the quarter finals. It's a given."

"Yeah, I think you have that the other way around. It's England who is going to kick Wales' ass. So, sorry, not sorry." He grins at me as I measure his arm before I write the measurement down in my book. Surprisingly, despite the awkwardness that seemed to radiate off him earlier, we've managed to start up a really good, easy conversation. It just happened to be a debate on sports, though.

"But doesn't that saying go; the customer is always right?" he suggests with a smirk, making me chuckle.

"Not in this case, Gwil." Motioning to him that I finished measuring, he drops his arms and turns to look at me.

"Okay, since your so confident about your team, why don't we make a deal?" I look up at him, intrigued.

"I'm listening."

"By the time we meet here next, whoever's team wins the upcoming game, the loser owes them $50." Gwilym holds out his hand and I enclose my own around his without hesitation, sealing the deal.

"Alright, I could use $50." We let go and walk slowly to the door, a little reluctantly on my behalf.

"I think you mean I could use $50."

"Yeah, that's exactly what I said." He laughs as I open the door for him and he moves so he is leaning against the door frame.

"I guess we'll just have to wait and see. It was nice meeting you, Y/N. I'll look forward to seeing you again soon." I try and resist the urge to blush as his eyes look deep into mine.

"I'll look forward to it, too." I say softly before coughing awkwardly. "Now go, so I can actually get this suit of yours done. Don't want you to go to the Oscars in your underwear." I mentally face palm. Did I really just say that? Luckily, he laughs.

"Yeah, that would definitely be a statement. Bye, Y/n." I wave goodbye, close the door and lean my back against it, trying to get my heart to slow down.

Is it bad that I'm already looking forward to him coming back?