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Summary
“Dessert was exquisite. The presentation was a tad sloppy, but I liked it well enough to recommend it to others. Now, get off my desk, Glasses. You're dismissed.”
“My ass doesn’t need a fucking Yelp review,” Yoongi growled as he gathered his things. “And would it kill you to use my actual name?”
His boss hummed noncommittally but otherwise didn’t acknowledge him again, already pulling out some files from a desk drawer to look over. Fucking alphas. Or in his case, not fucking alphas.