Chapter Text
“Hello, snake,” Mingi says, an obviously fake smile plastered on his face.
Seonghwa smiles patiently at him. “Hello, Mingi. Mind moving so I can get my lunch out of the fridge?”
Mingi, unsurprisingly, slaps one of his giant hands on the edge of the refrigerator, effectively preventing Seonghwa from being able to open it unless he were to literally shove Mingi out of the way. Unfortunately for Seonghwa, Yeosang might turn a blind eye to a lot of things, but workplace violence isn’t one of them. Mingi knows it, too.
“Your lunch? Or yours and Yunho’s lunch?” Mingi asks.
Seonghwa glances behind his shoulder. He and Mingi are currently the only ones in the breakroom, so—“Well, I only brought one container, but it’s for both of us,” he admits freely. “I probably brought way too much though, would you like some?”
Like five different emotions play across Mingi’s face in ten seconds, and Seonghwa has to stifle a laugh. “Is this a bribe?” he asks, narrowing his eyes.
“I don’t know. Is it?” Seonghwa retorts.
Mingi visibly hesitates. “What did you bring?”
“Fried chicken.”
“And you made it?”
“Of course I did,” Seonghwa scoffs. “Who do you think I am? Yeosang? Wooyoung?”
Mingi gives him finger guns like the disaster of a human being he is. “You got me there,” he says, taking his hand off the fridge and moving aside. “I will accept your fried chicken bribe—whoa, what the fuck, did you make enough to feed a small army?” he demands after he watches Seonghwa pull what is, admittedly, a large container of chicken out of the fridge.
“I brought some for Yeosang as well,” Seongwha says, setting the container down on the counter so he can pull some plates out of the cupboard. “Want yours cold, or should I heat it up for you?”
“What does Yeosang know?” Mingi demands.
Seonghwa gives Mingi what he can only hope is a blank look. “Excuse me?”
“Why are you making food for Yeosang, too?” Mingi questions.
“Because I’m a nice person, Mingi,” Seonghwa tells him, as innocent as he can manage. “As for what Yeosang knows, I don’t know. Sometimes I think Yeosang knows everything, and sometimes I think Yeosang knows absolutely nothing at all. He’s good at that, you know?”
Mingi makes an exasperated noise. “You’re not good at playing dumb, Seonghwa,” he says, “and I’m going to expose you. Just wait.”
“You’re welcome to try, like I’ve already told you,” Seonghwa smirks. “Now, again, cold or hot?”
Seonghwa’s office technically has a lock, but he’s never, ever used it. Not even now that it’s not only his office—Hongjoong bets that Yunho doesn’t even know that it locks. It’s kind of dumb, considering all the important confidential files that live in here, but right now Seonghwa not bothering to lock his office up ever benefits Hongjoong because it means he can slip inside to try and escape the chaos that is the sales department currently. Even though he knows his respite from the chaos will be short lived, any moment of peace Hongjoong can grasp right now will be a cherished one.
Ten blessed moments of silence later, the office door cracks open. Hongjoong doesn’t move, even though he’s sitting in Seonghwa’s desk chair right now.
“This isn’t your office,” Seonghwa says dryly.
Hongjoong startles. “No, it’s not,” he agrees, leaning back in his stolen chair. “But San and Wooyoung are driving me fucking crazy. I can’t be around them right now.”
Seonghwa snorts. “What are they doing now?”
“You don’t want to know,” Hongjoong tells him earnestly, shuddering. Because no, Seonghwa doesn’t want to know. Hongjoong himself doesn’t want to know, even, but unfortunately for him his cubicle just happens to be situated right in between theirs and neither of them know what an inside voice is. At least it looks like the sexual tension that’s been crackling between the two of them for the two years they’ve worked here seems like it’s about to come to a head, but god, Hongjoong wants to be far, far away from the blast radius when it happens.
So: he’s here. In Seonghwa and Yunho’s office, trying to avoid going back to his own workspace for as long as humanly possible. Knowing Seonghwa, he’s got fifteen minutes tops, but that’s fifteen minutes he doesn’t have to deal with any bullshit. Hongjoong will take it.
“No, seriously. Enlighten me, I’m curious,” Seongwha says, moving Yunho’s desk chair so it’s facing Seonghwa’s own desk before sitting down on it, propping his feet up on his desk like a heathen.
“Won’t Yunho need that in like, two minutes?” Hongjoong asks, even as he makes zero effort to get up out of Seonghwa’s chair.
“He’s sick. He’s not coming in today.”
Hongjoong’s jaw drops. It’s not even time for them to clock in yet. There’s no way Seonghwa should know that Yunho isn’t coming in today yet—unless…
“Is Mingi right about you two?” he demands. “Seriously?”
He thinks Seonghwa looks panicked for a brief second, but it’s gone so fast that Hongjoong can’t be sure. “We exchanged numbers, and he texted me an hour ago to let me know that he wouldn’t be coming in today so I could finish up the invoice for Wonderland Corp.”
Hongjoong almost falls out of his (well, Seonghwa’s) chair. “Seonghwa. That’s like...one of our biggest clients. Wooyoung’s literally still using bagging them over a fucking year ago as bragging rights against San. You gave Yunho that file like three weeks into him working here?”
“Yeah,” Seonghwa shrugs. “He’s proven himself to be competent, and him having that account means I can handle like five others in the time it would normally take me to deal with that single one.”
“When one of the HR dudes suggested you hand an account that isn’t nearly as important as the Wonderland account to the last guy, you nearly ripped their head off.”
Seonghwa rolls his eyes. “Don’t exaggerate. I just expressed my concerns. Loudly.”
“Yeosang had to give you a verbal warning for how you reacted, and I’m pretty sure the only reason you didn’t get an actual written infraction for that one is because Yeosang likes you,” Hongjoong points out. “What was it, verbal abuse of human resources personnel?”
“Shut up,” Seonghwa scowls. “Seriously, Joong, Yunho is good at what he does. His last company didn’t let him show what he’s capable of, but he can seriously handle this account. He’s been communicating with the Wonderland people for a week now and they already like him more than they ever liked me.”
“That’s not hard,” Hongjoong teases, but it’s only partially true. Yeah, Seonghwa can be prickly at times, but their clients generally love him and his no-nonsense approach. “You seem...very fond of him already.”
“He’s a good kid,” Seonghwa shrugs, as if Yunho isn’t older than almost everyone Seonghwa bothers to talk to at work (San had been bitterly disappointed to learn that Yunho was, in fact, several months older than him). “But enough about that. What’s going on with San and Wooyoung?”
“I told you, you don’t wanna know,” Hongjoong whines.
“If you tell me, I won’t tell anyone but Yeosang if you decide you want to hide out in here today to avoid them,” Seonghwa bargains.
That’s a deal that Hongjoong would be a fool not to take. “They made a bet to see who can get more sales this month,” he starts.
“They literally do that daily,” Seonghwa interrupts.
“Yes, I know ,” Hongjoong sighs, “but this time they’ve decided that the loser has to take the winner out on a date.
Seonghwa gives him a horrified look. “They’re going to be fucking in the supply room before the month is up, aren’t they,” he says, resigned.
“I told you you didn’t want to know,” Hongjoong sings. “Hey, can I use Yunho’s work laptop, do you think? Or do I need to find a way to get mine in here without the terrible twosome spotting me?”
“Definitely bring yours in here. Don’t mess with Yunho’s stuff,” Seonghwa says quickly.
Too quickly.
“You didn’t answer my question about Mingi earlier,” Hongjoong says shrewdly. Because now that Hongjoong really thinks about it, it’s been almost two weeks since Mingi supposedly ran into Seonghwa and Yunho at the farmer’s market and he’s still going on about it daily to everyone who will listen, enough so that Hongjoong’s pretty sure Wooyoung’s convinced he’s telling the truth.
The thing is, though, if Mingi was just bullshitting the way he usually does, he would have dropped it after a day or two. Three, tops. But the fact that he’s still going on about it, and Seonghwa is definitely acting weird where Yunho is concerned? Hongjoong’s no longer sure that Mingi’s just making shit up again.
Seonghwa scowls again, and Hongjoong knows he’s on thin ice. If he’s not careful, Seonghwa is going to kick him out of his office and leave him to deal with San and Wooyoung all day. Before he can backtrack his previous statement, though, Seonghwa exhales heavily and shakes his head.
“Like I pointed out last week, since when do we believe anything Mingi says without having multiple people corroborate his story?”
Seonghwa wasn’t wrong then, and he isn’t wrong now. But Hongjoong can’t help but think that maybe what Seonghwa isn’t saying right now is more important than what Seongwha is saying.
Yunho’s face is still flushed with fever when Seonghwa arrives home from work, but his eyes are bright and aware, which means he’s at least feeling better now than he was when Seonghwa was forced to leave him alone this morning.
“Hey,” Yunho says, struggling to pull himself into a sitting position on Seonghwa’s couch. “You’re home late.”
Seonghwa sets the paper bag in his arms down on his coffee table, then moves over to Yunho and presses a hand against his forehead. “Stopped to get stuff for soup,” he murmurs. “Lay back down, baby, you don’t need to get up unless you want to.”
Yunho grabs onto Seonghwa’s arm and uses it to haul himself upright. “I want to, you’re going to be in the kitchen and I missed you,” he whines. “Did you miss me too? Were you lonely without me in the office today?”
“I missed you like I would a missing limb, but I wasn’t lonely today,” Seonghwa chuckles, standing up and dragging Yunho to his feet along with him.
“How weren’t you lonely?” Yunho pouts, and it’s adorable . Seonghwa’s tempted to kiss the pout right off his lips, even knowing that he absolutely should not do that right now.
Seonghwa helps Yunho to the kitchen and makes sure he’s settled at the table before he answers. “Hongjoong hid out in our office today to avoid Wooyoung and San.”
“Oh?” Yunho asks interestedly. “What are they doing now?”
“Trust me, you don’t want to know,” Seonghwa tells him, even though he knows that Yunho is sure to find out as soon as he’s able to go back to work. “But also, I think Hongjoong is on to us.”
“On to you,” Yunho giggles. “He doesn’t know me yet.”
Seonghwa gives him an indulgent smile. “When was the last time you took some medicine?”
“Like half an hour ago,” Yunho informs him, which explains why he’s feeling so good right now despite the fever that’s still clearly raging.
“Good,” Seonghwa says, pulling a cutting board out of the cabinet. “And yes, you’re right that you don’t really know Hongjoong yet, but we’re both in this together. Therefore, he’s on to us instead of just me.”
“So...do you want to tell him? Them?” Yunho asks.
Seonghwa hums contemplatively. “And admit Mingi was right?”
Yunho giggles again , and it’s doing crazy things to Seonghwa’s heart. “You’ve never actually denied anything he’s said about us,” he points out, much more lucid than Seonghwa was expecting from him tonight. Maybe the giggles are a by-product of the medicine actually working and Yunho’s fever dropping, who knows?
“Maybe I want to delay the inevitable,” Seonghwa answers, and he’s pouting now, but Yunho doesn’t call him out on it. “I think the charade is about up, anyway.”
The life of an IT person means that Jongho is either very busy or very not busy, depending on the day.
Today is a busy day.
It’s good, because it means that Jongho won’t be left to basically stare at the wall of his office for hours on end again, but it’s also bad because Jongho only got three hours of sleep last night due to staying up too late playing Overwatch. At least someone seems to have told Yunho, an actual Angel On Earth, about his predicament, because when Yunho enters his office he’s got his laptop in one arm and a Red Bull in the other.
Jongho makes grabby hands for the Red Bull immediately. “Gimme,” he moans. Yunho does, laughing a little when Jongho pops it open and drains half of it in one go. “How did you know?” he asks, smacking his lips together happily.
“Um, Mingi talks a lot, you know?” Yunho asks.
“Yeah, I know,” Jongho says, rolling his eyes. “I meant more like, how did you know not to bring me coffee?”
“Oh! You just don’t seem like the coffee type,” Yunho replies. “Better?”
“Better,” Jongho confirms. “Gimme your laptop, let’s see what’s happening here.”
The issue with Yunho’s laptop turns out to be a botched software update, which is an easy enough fix. Definitely much better than the virus-riddled laptop someone in administration had brought him earlier that day—now that had been a nightmare to deal with. With that horror show on his mind, Jongho also double checks Yunho’s anti-virus software; it’s up to date, which is more than he could say for probably 90% of the computers in this building.
“Have you ever accessed your work email from home?” Jongho asks once the scan he’d started on Yunho’s laptop just as a precaution finishes up.
“Yeah, sometimes,” Yunho replies.
Jongho nods. “Alright, I’m gonna set up two-factor authentication for you. I should have done it ages ago, like the day I got your email set up. Oversight on my part, but I’m fixing it now.”
“Sure,” Yunho says. “What’s that?”
“It’s a security thing,” Jongho explains patiently. This isn’t the first or even the twentieth time he’s had to explain this, after all. “Whenever you try to log onto your email on any other network than the one in this building, you’ll have to verify it’s you on an app. Phone, please,” he adds, holding out his hand.
Yunho blanches. “Why?” he asks, his voice sounding oddly high pitched.
“So I can install the app on your phone. An administrator of the security system has to do it, and I’m literally the only one,” Jongho says, a little less patiently.
“Can’t I install it myself?”
Jongho blinks up at him. “I literally just explained why that isn’t possible,” he says, trying not to get irritated. After all, Yunho did bring him a Red Bull. And he’s still kinda new around here. But Jongho’s patience is wearing thin.
Yunho takes a deep breath, like he’s steeling himself for something. “Fine,” he says, pulling his phone out of his pocket. He unlocks it and hands it to Jongho, and Jongho thinks he’s being way overdramatic about this entire thing—it’s not like he’s going to snoop through Yunho’s texts or recently visited websites, you know?
Yunho’s odd behavior clicks when Jongho registers his home screen background. It’s Seonghwa, sound asleep on a couch with his arms around a throw pillow, drowning in a hoodie that’s clearly multiple sizes too large for him.
“Jongho,” Yunho says warily, “I can explain?”
Jongho does the only thing he can do at a time like this.
He shrieks.
In an office as chaotic as this one can be sometimes, you wouldn’t think someone screaming would send everyone within earshot running. Maybe it wouldn’t have, if it had been someone like San screaming, Yunho thinks.
But Jongho shrieking seemingly unprompted? Yunho barely has time to cover his ears with his hands (Jongho is really, really loud) before multiple people come tumbling into the room. Quite literally.
“Where’s the fire?” Hongjoong demands from his spot on the ground. Because he ended up on the ground somehow, apparently.
“Are you okay?” San asks, climbing over Hongjoong so he can grab Jongho’s face in his hands.
Jongho, apparently still speechless, shoves Yunho’s phone in San’s face. Yunho sighs and covers his ears with his hands again, knowing damn well that San’s about to start screaming too.
“Can I have my phone back, please?” Yunho shouts. Jongho apparently hears him even over San, because he shakes his head and clutches Yunho’s phone to his chest.
“No! I still have to install the app,” he insists.
That gets San to stop screaming. “Wait,” he says. “Wait, wait, wait, you’re busted because Jongho takes his job too seriously?”
“What?” Wooyoung screeches.
Yunho suddenly wishes he had taken Seonghwa’s advice and called in sick one more day. He’d figured it would be fine since it was Friday, and he didn’t want to blow through his sick days, but—yeah, he’s really regretting even getting out of bed this morning right now.
“Can we please stop yelling?” he moans, a little pathetically. “It’s making my head hurt.”
San yelps and lets go of Jongho, only to reach up on his toes to cradle Yunho’s head the same way he had been cradling Jongho. “I’m sorry, forgive me,” he pleads. “Are you okay? Do you need painkillers? I have some in my desk.”
“What is happening?” Hongjoong asks. He’s gotten back on his feet, Yunho notices, so he’s got that going for himself right now at least.
“Yes, I would like to know the same thing,” Seonghwa chimes in from the doorway. Mingi peeks in over his shoulder, which means that everyone’s here. Yunho closes his eyes and presses his head into San’s hands, one of which begins to comb through his hair reassuringly.
“I saw Yunho’s lock screen picture,” Jongho says, presumably to Seonghwa. “And then everyone started yelling and I think we gave him a headache, which we feel bad about.”
“So bad,” San agrees, much quieter than he normally speaks. “It’s a cute fucking picture, though. Yunho, did you take it?”
Yunho opens his eyes and looks over towards the doorway. Seonghwa’s sighing, pinching the bridge of his nose, but Yunho can tell that he’s a little amused by the whole thing. “Obviously, yeah,” he answers, blushing when San coos at him.
“What picture?” Hongjoong asks, sounding irritated now.
“A picture of me asleep on the couch, unless he’s changed it in the last eight hours,” Seonghwa answers.
Mingi gasps so loudly that Yunho thinks it had to have physically hurt him to do so. “SEE?” he screams.
Yunho winces, and San pulls him down so that his head can rest against the shorter man’s shoulder. “Mingi,” he hisses.
“Sorry, sorry,” Mingi says immediately. “But seriously, see?”
Someone rubs a hand across Yunho’s back, and he doesn’t have to look to know it’s Seonghwa. “I told you no one would believe you, Mingi,” Seonghwa says, smug.
“Wait. Wait wait wait wait wait,” Wooyoung says. “You guys are together? Already? You’ve known each other for like a month and a half?”
“More like seven and a half months, and we went on a date the day we met,” Yunho tells him, not bothering to lift his head off San’s shoulder. He’s warm and comforting, and Yunho suspects that moving suddenly might make his head pound even more.
“Wait,” Hongjoong says shrewdly. “Seonghwa?”
Seonghwa coughs loudly. “Okay, anyway, yes. Yunho and I are dating. Sorry we didn’t tell you before, but it was amusing to me. I’m taking him back to our office now,” he says, tugging Yunho out of San’s hold as gently as he can.
“Can you admit that I was right?” Mingi asks hopefully.
“Never,” Seonghwa says, and Mingi’s groan rings in Yunho’s ears as Seonghwa ushers him out of Jongho’s office and back to their own.
Yunho doesn’t even remember that Jongho still has his phone until almost an hour later, when Jongho returns it to him sheepishly.
“I installed the app I was talking about, and uh. I’m sorry for blowing your cover,” he says earnestly.
Yunho waves him off. “It’s fine, it was going to happen.”
Jongho looks warily at Seonghwa, typing away at a report at his own desk, and leans in so that he’s invading Yunho’s personal space. “Be good to him, yeah? He’s kind of a prickly bitch but he’s the best person you’ll ever meet.”
Yunho smiles. “Oh, trust me,” he assures Jongho, “I am. And I know.”
Six weeks earlier…
“Seonghwa,” Yeosang says exasperatedly, not looking up from his computer, “if you’re just going to pace up and down the hallway all day, go do it somewhere else instead of in front of my office. You’re distracting me.”
Seonghwa enters his office a solid two minutes later, looking a little nervous with his hands behind his back. “Sorry,” he says.
Yeosang shrugs, hitting send on the email he’d been composing. “It’s fine. What’s up? Here for a refresher on good office etiquette before the new accountant starts next week?” he teases.
Seonghwa clears his throat. “No,” he says, sounding a little strangled. He moves forward and slams a piece of paper onto Yeosang’s desk. “This is for you.”
“Seonghwa, if this is a letter of resignation, I swear to god I will kill you,” Yeosang warns him, reaching out to pick it up.
“No, it’s not that. Um. It’s a relationship declaration form,” Seonghwa admits, visibly shifting from foot to foot.
“For San and Wooyoung? They got their shit together finally? Why are you giving this to me, though?” Yeosang asks.
Seonghwa sighs. “No, not for them, you know they’re never going to get there without help. No, this is for me. And, um. The new accountant we just hired,” he says. Mumbles, really, so that Yeosang can barely hear him.
Yeosang skims the form in front of him incredulously. Sure enough, it’s got both Seonghwa’s info and the info of the new accountant he’d put into the system just yesterday. “Huh. Well, congratulations,” he says. “Did you have any part in getting him hired?”
“I told him about the opening, and he noted that on his initial application, but that’s it,” Seonghwa says, and Yeosang notes that he sounds proud. “It was all Yunho.”
“Why do I have a feeling you’re going to keep this on the down low, though?” Yeosang asks, sighing internally.
“Everyone knows I’m going to hate whoever they hire to fill this position, and you know how I hate to disappoint people,” Seonghwa tells him, fake sweet, and Yeosang rolls his eyes. “I also know that anything I turn in to HR is confidential unless I make it not so, so I suppose this is your secret to keep now too, Yeosangie.”
Yeosang rolls his eyes again, and picks up the relationship declaration form so he can scan it into the system. “You owe me.”
“That’s fine,” Seonghwa says, smiling. “I know how to stay on your good side.”
Yeosang manages not to bang his head against his desk after Seonghwa leaves, but it’s a close call. At least Seonghwa deciding to drag him in the middle of all this means he’s going to get a lot of free food soon, but is it going to be worth it? Probably not.
(Actually—it might be, if it means Seonghwa’s happy. But still.)