Chapter Text
“Good morning,” Seonghwa says cheerfully, breezing past Hongjoong on the way to his office.
“What?” Hongjoong asks, sounding incredulous.
Seonghwa stops walking and turns to look at Hongjoong, who seems to have frozen in place. “Good morning?” he repeats, unsure. He can’t figure out why Hongjoong is suddenly looking at him like he’s sprouted a second head or something. “Is something wrong?”
“The new accountant starts today,” Hongjoong answers slowly. “You know, the position you threw a fit about existing in the first place and then chased off the last person to hold it?”
“I did no such thing,” Seonghwa sniffs, knowing even as he says it that it’s a complete fucking lie. Or a partial one, at least—while he hadn’t actively sabotaged his previous co-worker, he’d absolutely learned just how effective completely icing someone out can be. By the time the poor bastard had turned in his notice, nearly everyone had subconsciously started following Seonghwa’s lead and ignoring him. Hongjoong had been one of the few who went out of his way to try to be friendly still, but even that had been a strained relationship.
It’s no surprise then that Hongjoong scoffs, never afraid to call Seonghwa out on his bullshit. “Yeah, okay. We both know what you did, so obviously I’m a little surprised that you’re in a good mood knowing that the new hire starts orientation today.”
“I forgot,” Seonghwa tells him, scowling. It’s slightly too exaggerated to be genuine, but Hongjoong doesn’t seem to notice.
Thank god.
“Be nice to this one, please?” Hongjoong pleads. “You’re not superhuman, Seonghwa. You can’t handle all of the company’s financials all by yourself anymore.”
Seonghwa arches an eyebrow. “Haven’t I been doing just that for the last six weeks?”
Hongjoong rolls his eyes, visibly clenching his jaw in annoyance. “Fine. You can’t handle all of the company’s financials anymore by yourself without literally working yourself to death,” he amends. “You make it hard for people to care about you sometimes, you know?”
“Thank you,” Seonghwa smiles.
“That wasn’t a compliment,” Hongjoong tells him.
“I’m still taking it as one. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to get to work. I’m sure you do too,” Seonghwa says, glancing pointedly down at the watch on his wrist. (It’s new, an already cherished birthday gift, and he’s been checking the time more often than he needs to for the past week and a half just because he likes seeing it sitting on his wrist.)
“Be nice!” Hongjoong calls after him.
“Stop repeating yourself!” Seonghwa calls back, letting himself into his office. He drops his messenger bag unceremoniously on his desk, then glances over at the second desk in the room that’s waiting for its new occupant and smiles.
“Go,” San hisses.
Wooyoung grimaces. “Do I have to?” he asks, giving San his best pleading look.
San, unfortunately, is unmoved. “Go,” he repeats. “You’re it. You lost the bet.”
“You made the bet knowing I would be on the phone with a client all morning and unable to make any sales before lunch!” Wooyoung whines.
“Not my problem,” San says, and his smile is fucking demonic. “Go,” he repeats for a third time, dropping his voice an octave. Wooyoung knows there’s no way he’s getting out of it now, as much as he wants to.
“If he kills me, I’m going to haunt you,” Wooyoung tells San, then turns on his heel to walk confidently into the break room. Seonghwa is there, he knows, having watched the man enter two minutes before.
Sure enough, Seonghwa is standing in front of the microwave, tapping his foot impatiently as he waits for whatever he’s reheating to finish. He’s muttering under his breath too, and Wooyoung nearly backs out of the break room to tell San that he can do his own dirty work, bet or no bet. But Wooyoung’s parents didn’t raise a quitter or a coward, which means he stands his ground and says, “Seonghwa.”
Seonghwa whirls around. He’s got his arms crossed over his chest, and just...looks completely unapproachable right now. “What?”
Wooyoung gives Seonghwa his most innocent smile. “The new accountant started today, right? Yoonoh? What’s he like?”
“Yunho,” Seonghwa says immediately, so quickly that it catches Wooyoung off guard a little. “And he’s...quiet, I guess.” The microwave beeps, and Seonghwa removes a frankly huge plastic container of noodles that he stirs furiously with the set of chopsticks in his left hand.
“That’s a big ass container of noodles,” Wooyoung says, surprised.
Seonghwa looks at him like he’s daring him to say more. Wooyoung might be dumb sometimes, but he’s not an idiot , so he doesn’t. “But quiet? Really? That’s all you’ve got for me?” he asks instead.
“Sorry I can’t give you more gossip,” Seonghwa answers, rolling his eyes and turning his gaze back down to his noodles. “He’s only been in my office for an hour. I don’t know if he’s competent or anything yet, and that’s all I care about.”
“You’re probably hoping he is incompetent so he’ll be fired,” Wooyoung snarks.
“Actually, no. I would hate to work for a company that hires incompetent people on a regular basis,” Seonghwa says, then shoves a startlingly large amount of noodles in his mouth. It’s a little weird, because Seonghwa generally refuses to eat anywhere but sitting either at his desk or in the conference room when required, but maybe plotting how to get rid of the new accountant has him acting a little weird today.
Wooyoung narrows his eyes. “But you still want him gone,” he says.
Seonghwa swallows his mouthful loudly. “I don’t need help doing my job,” he sighs.
Wooyoung sighs too, out of frustration. Clearly he’s not going to get anywhere with Seonghwa right now. “Just...please be nice to this one, okay?” he pleads, feeling the corners of his mouth turn down into a pout against his will. He hates how weird it gets around here when Seonghwa openly hates someone, like he did the guy who held Yunho’s position before he was ever hired.
(Granted, from some of the stuff Mingi has told him, Seonghwa probably was somewhat justified as the guy wasn’t great at his job. Also, Seonghwa never went so far out of line that Yeosang felt the need to write him up over breaking company protocols either, which says a lot—Yeosang is quick with those when he decides rules have been broken. But still.)
“I have no idea why everyone keeps telling me to be nice,” Seonghwa says, and takes another bite of his noodles, still standing in front of the microwave.
“God, why do I even try?” Wooyoung bemoans.
Seonghwa grins at him, all teeth, despite his mouth still being full. “I ask myself that question daily,” he says, giving Wooyoung a clear view of half-chewed noodles, and Wooyoung shudders violently.
“You’re disgusting,” he sniffs, and hightails it out of the room. If he doesn’t, he might vomit.
San’s hovering right next to Wooyoung’s cubicle when he gets back, because of course he is. “Well?” he demands, as impatient as ever.
“I got nothing, besides the fact that he apparently thinks he can outeat Jongho all of a sudden based on how big the container of noodles he brought for lunch is,” Wooyoung tells him, sitting down in his desk chair with a heavy thump. “Next time it’s on you, by the way,” he adds, and laughs when San makes an affronted noise.
Later, though, when Wooyoung ducks into the breakroom to refill his coffee, he notices the giant container Seonghwa had been eating out of sitting in the sink. It’s empty.
“You really weren’t kidding,” Yunho says that night, sounding a little awed. “Your co-workers are really absolutely convinced that you’re going to hate me just for existing, huh.”
“Our co-workers now,” Seonghwa corrects him gently, shifting a little closer into the taller man’s side. “But yeah.”
Yunho beams, tightening his grip on Seonghwa’s shoulders. “I can’t figure out if they’re scared of you or in love with you. Maybe both, I guess.”
Seonghwa scoffs. “No one is either of those things.”
“Except for me,” Yunho says, still beaming. “I’m pretty clearly in love with you, Hwa.”
“I know,” Seonghwa says, shifting guiltily on the couch. “Hey, listen. I know I talked some shit about having a reputation to uphold, and how Hongjoong can never, ever find out he indirectly played a part in us meeting, but if at any point you don’t want to pretend we don’t know each other anymore one word will be enough for me to drop the act entirely, okay?”
Yunho kisses Seonghwa on the tip of the nose, something he’s gotten into the habit of doing lately. Probably because he likes seeing Seonghwa scrunch his nose in reflex because of how it tickles, but it’s still nice. “I’ve already told you, I’m fine with it. You get to continue being the big bad wolf who judges the hell out of everyone, I get to prove my worth without everyone wondering if you’re actually doing all of my work for me, and I get to get to know my new coworkers on my own without them either being nice to me or being awful to me because you’re my boyfriend.”
Seonghwa relaxes into Yunho’s arms. “Well, if you’re sure,” he says.
‘I am,” Yunho says confidently. “It’s kinda fun, too,” he adds, and Seonghwa can’t help but agree.
San knocks on the door of Seonghwa and Yunho’s office hesitantly. The door’s open, but only barely so—he wouldn’t be able to fit his head through the gap—and there’s no telling what he mind find in there. Maybe Seonghwa has finally snapped and murdered someone. Or maybe Yunho has snapped and murdered someone—granted, as far as San can tell, the other man’s basically a golden retriever in a human’s body, but you never really know. It’s the nice ones you have to watch out for and all that.
“Come in!” Yunho calls cheerfully. San pushes the door open carefully and looks over at Seonghwa immediately. He’s sitting up straight in his chair, rigidly so, and his jaw is visibly clenched. San mentally sighs.
“Is something wrong?” he asks slowly. Even if he couldn’t see Seonghwa right now, he’d know something was up—the tension in the office is literally palpable, and San swears he can taste it.
“Nothing is wrong, San. Why did you come to bother us?” Seonghwa asks, clipped.
San steps all the way into the office so he can see Yunho’s desk area clearly. Yunho smiles brightly when he sees him, his eyes crinkling up in delight. “San,” he says warmly.
“Hey,” San says, unable to keep from smiling back. “Woo and I are going out for lunch and we decided to see if you wanted to come along? I figure you can probably use a break from being around that one,” he adds, jerking his thumb in Seonghwa’s direction. “I can literally feel the tension in the room.”
“San,” Seonghwa says softly. San feels goosebumps rising on the back of his hand—Seonghwa’s quiet voice is his most dangerous one, and he’s just been vividly reminded of that fact.
“I’m sure he’s a wonderful office mate and an even better partner for your accountant things,” San says quickly, as diplomatically as he can manage. Seonghwa stays silent, so he must have decided to let San live for the moment.
Yunho, inexplicably, giggles. “I’ve had worse partners,” he says, smiling like he knows something San doesn’t. “I’ll definitely go to lunch with you and Wooyoung, though. Now?” he asks, shoving away from his desk.
“Yeah, now, if you can,” San replies, glancing at Seonghwa again. He half expects him to tell Yunho he can’t leave since it’s not technically lunch time yet, but it doesn’t happen. He does see Seonghwa roll his eyes, but he’s pretty sure Seonghwa rolls his eyes just on reflex without realizing it sometimes, so it’s probably— probably —not directed at he or Yunho.
San can literally feel Seonghwa’s eyes staring at his back as he follows Yunho out of his office, and shivers a little. Yeah, he thinks Seonghwa’s great, but the dude is also intimidating as fuck. It’s why he tries so hard to stay on his good side, and hates that Yunho’s on his bad side just for existing.
With that on his mind, San pats Yunho’s arm sympathetically. “You know,” he starts, “if Seonghwa’s too much of an asshole for you to deal with day in and day out, I bet HR could find somewhere else for you to work. Like a different office, probably. Ooh, or you can come hang out with us in the sales department! Yeosang’s pretty easily bribable, it wouldn’t be hard,” he says, gesturing widely with his hands.
“Aww,” Yunho says, sounding genuinely touched. “It’s really nice that you care so much so fast? My old job wasn’t like that at all,” he admits. “I’d been there for nine months when I left for this job, and even then pretty much no one talked to me unless it was to boss me around. So after that, being around Seonghwa all the time is honestly great in comparison.”
San can’t keep the shock he feels off his face, he just knows it. “Are you sure?” he asks dumbly.
“Yeah.”
“Well, if that changes, let me know. I know what brand of chocolate Yeosang likes best, and I’m not afraid to use it,” San declares, patting Yunho on the arm again.
“Noted,” Yunho says, laughing a little. “Come on, I’m hungry and Wooyoung’s probably waiting for us.”
San winces. Wooyoung’s definitely waiting for them, and he gets bitchy when he’s hungry. “Fuck, let’s go,” he demands, grabbing Yunho’s arm and dragging him along the hallway.
It isn’t until much later that afternoon that San realizes that Yunho had deliberately changed the topic to avoid talking about Seonghwa any longer.
"What about these?" Yunho asks.
Seonghwa stands up on his tip toes so he can peek over Yunho's shoulder to look at the basket of strawberries he's holding. He doesn't have to, of course, he could easily move to Yunho's side, but it's kind of chilly out this morning and even the sweater he'd stolen from Yunho's drawer isn't quite keeping him warm enough.
"Mmm, looks good," Seonghwa answers, digging his chin into the juncture of Yunho's shoulder where it meets his neck. The other man predictably yelps and squirms away, but he's smiling so Seonghwa knows he's not angry or anything like that. "Get two of them. We can make strawberry shortcake for dessert tonight, if you'd like."
"Sounds good to me," Yunho replies absently, his attentions already focused on finding a second basket of acceptable berries. Seonghwa plucks the first basket from his hand to ensure that he doesn't set it down and leave it to be snatched up by some other early morning market patron -- that had happened last fall, near the end of the season, and the way that Yunho's face had fallen once he had realized what had happened isn't something that Seonghwa wants to see again if he can help it. "Can we get some blueberries too?"
"Of course," Seonghwa assures him. He hates the things, but Yunho eats them like they're candy and Seonghwa's already learned to deal with his mouth tasting like the things now and then. He takes the second basket of strawberries from Yunho once he finds another one he's satisfied with, and smiles when Yunho takes advantage of suddenly having two free hands to stick one of his hands in the back pocket of Seonghwa's jeans as they make their way over to the blueberry stall.
"Seonghwa? Is that you?" an all too familiar voice asks. "Wait, holy shit, is that-- Yunho ?"
Seonghwa whirls around, unfortunately dislodging Yunho's hand in the process, to glare at Mingi. He's always known Mingi had a big mouth, but it's still almost impressive how wide his jaw is hanging open with unconcealed shock. "What are you doing here?" he demands.
"As if I'd miss out on a chance to get fresh fruit for my morning smoothies," Mingi sniffs haughtily, having managed to pick his jaw up off the ground. "But you!" he shouts, jabbing a finger in Seonghwa's direction. "We've been waiting for you to snap and murder the new guy for two weeks now, but you guys are -- what?" he asks, clearly flabbergasted.
Yunho gives Seonghwa a questioning look. When Seonghwa nods, he says, "We're here at the market to get fresh fruit, just like you," smooth as can be, and Seonghwa is so proud . And maybe a tiny bit turned on by watching Yunho blandly bullshit like this directly to someone's face, but that's neither here nor there. "Nice morning, isn't it?"
Mingi stares at them like they've come from another dimension or something. "Seonghwa is wearing the same sweater you were wearing on Thursday, Yunho," he points out.
Seonghwa glances down at himself and realizes that Mingi's right, which explains why it smells like Yunho's cologne instead of the fabric softener he uses. Not that he's complaining--he would have done it intentionally, so. (Yunho probably thinks he did, honestly.)
"You guys have known each other for two weeks and you're already out here being domestic as fuck at the farmer's market while wearing each other's clothes?" Mingi asks, voice raising higher and higher with each word.
"Yunho isn't wearing any of my clothes, they're too small for him," Seonghwa answers, maybe a little dreamily -- he's not small by any means himself, but Yunho makes him feel that way sometimes, and he loves it. "Oh, and no."
Mingi's eyes narrow. "I'm not an idiot, Seonghwa. Don't lie to my face."
"We've known each other for longer than two weeks," Seonghwa tells him, and watches smugly as Mingi's face flushes red.
"No," he says.
"Oh, yeah. Cat's out of the bag now though, I suppose," Seonghwa sighs.
Yunho stifles a giggle behind his hand. "Guess so," he agrees, wrapping an arm loosely around Seonghwa's waist. Mingi makes an aborted noise of shock at the action, and Seonghwa smirks.
"Hey, Mingi?" Seonghwa asks. "How does it feel to know that no one is going to believe you about this?"
Mingi goes pale. "Oh my fucking god. No," he whines.
"Yes," Seonghwa says, grinning now. He's never met a person who talks as much shit as Mingi does, ever. It's honestly impossible to know when he's telling the truth without someone to corroborate his story -- and the only people who could possibly corroborate this are Seonghwa himself or Yunho, and he knows damn well that neither of them are going to do so.
Mingi shoots Yunho a pleading look, who shakes his head slowly. Mingi scowls. "I don't know why everyone at work thinks you're just a sweet little puppy," he says grumpily. "Because you're not."
Yunho laughs. "I can be, right, babe?" he asks Seonghwa.
"Gross," Mingi groans. "I don't need to know about your kinks, jesus christ."
"What?" Yunho sputters, turning red. "I -- no, Mingi, what the fuck?"
As cute as it is to see Yunho squirm, Seonghwa thinks it's time this conversation ends. They still need to pick out Yunho's blueberries and go to the grocery store this morning, after all. "We'll see you at work Monday, Mingi," he says cheerfully, shifting the two baskets of strawberries to one hand so he can give the taller man a short wave. "Have a good weekend!"
"Aren't you concerned he's going to take a picture of us or something for proof?" Yunho whispers once they've left Mingi, still gaping at them, behind.
"Nah," Seonghwa says confidently. "He won't think about it until someone asks him for proof on Monday. Bet."
Jongho’s sitting on Mingi’s desk again, probably just to get on his nerves. Today, however, Mingi doesn’t give a single fuck. Today, Mingi has the scoop of the century, and he’s not going to get irritated over something as petty as Jongho sitting on his desk when he knows better.
However, he is going to get irritated if everyone continues to give him disbelieving stares. Especially since Seonghwa had predicted this exact thing happening.
“I’m just saying, I’d be a lot more likely to believe you if you had a picture or something,” Hongjoong explains patiently, his hands on his hips.
“I already told you that I was too stunned by what I was seeing to think of taking one!” Mingi whines petulantly. “Come on, what have I ever done to make you not trust me?”
The four incredulous looks Mingi gets are enough to have him shrinking back in his chair. “You know what you did,” Jongho tells him.
“Yeah, never mind,” Mingi mumbles. He does, in fact, know what he did. “But seriously, both of them will be here soon. Just ask Yunho. I bet he’ll crack.”
The door to the office swings open, almost as if Mingi’s words summoned one or both of them. It turns out to be Seonghwa, who crosses the lobby with his normal brisk pace before slowing to a complete stop right next to San.
San, predictably, ignores Mingi’s solid advice about how Yunho is the one they need to question about this. “Mingi says you and Yunho are dating and he saw you at the farmer’s market on Saturday,” he blurts out.
Seonghwa arches an eyebrow. “Since when do we believe anything Mingi says that isn’t backed up by at least two other people?”
Mingi watches as San visibly falters. “I know,” he says, scuffing the ground with the toe of his shoe. “But he gave us so many details that it would be hard to fake, you know?”
“Like he said you had two baskets of strawberries in your hand,” Wooyoung pipes in. “And that Yunho kept grabbing your ass.”
“Do I look like someone who would let their ass be grabbed in public?” Seonghwa says archly.
Mingi groans. “No, but apparently you are ,” he says. “I know what I saw, Seonghwa, knock it off.”
“Hongjoong is still trying to set me up with every single person he knows. Do you not think I’d tell him if I had a boyfriend in order to get him to cut it out already?”
“He’s got a point there,” Hongjoong points out, shrugging. “Seriously, Mingi, why didn’t you just take a picture if you really saw them out on a date like that?”
“I just don’t believe Seonghwa would be suddenly all domestic with a guy he’s known for like two weeks,” Jongho adds.
“He literally told me they’ve known each other for longer than that,” Mingi protests.
Seonghwa sighs. “Are we done here yet?” he asks, pointedly glancing down at his watch.
“Yes, you are,” a new voice cuts in, causing everyone to jump. Mingi has to crane his neck to see around Jongho, but the irritated expression on Yeosang’s face makes him wish he hadn’t. Yeah, Seonghwa can be scary sometimes, but no one’s scarier than Yeosang when he’s mad at you.
No one.
“Get to work,” Yeosang adds, crossly, and everyone scatters. Wooyoung gives him an apologetic look (if Mingi had to guess, Wooyoung might be the person closest to believing him) and Seonghwa—
Seonghwa fucking winks at him.
Mingi seethes.
Yunho strolls in about fifteen minutes later, looking perfectly content with the world. “Good morning, Mingi,” he says breezily. “Wonderful day, right?”
“No,” Mingi glares. He has no doubt Yunho’s already been filled in about what went down a little while ago courtesy of Seonghwa. Yunho continues to gaze at him with that open, friendly face of his though, and Mingi’s resolve to be mad at him crumbles. “You guys are evil.”
Yunho comes closer and leans down, placing his hands on Mingi’s desk so he can lean in and talk to him quietly. “We have our reasons, and it’s nothing malicious. I promise. Okay?”
“I’m not going to shut up about this,” Mingi warns him. “Someone will believe me eventually. Like, did you know Seonghwa never actually denied it? He just deflected everything. That’s pretty obvious if you take the time to think about it, Yunho.”
“I did know, and I’m not asking you to be quiet about it,” Yunho smiles. “I’m just letting you know that we aren’t planning on keeping this a secret forever, and that it’s not some massive conspiracy theory or anything like that either.”
“I know,” Mingi admits. Because he does. Seonghwa, for all of his prickly edges, is a genuinely good person. He doesn’t know Yunho well yet, but Mingi thinks it’s safe to say that if Seonghwa chose Yunho, then he must be too. “You should probably go, though. Seonghwa’s probably getting antsy waiting for you.”
Yunho smiles again, this time something different. Mingi bets that’s his Seonghwa smile, and can’t decide if he thinks it’s cute or if he wants to gag. For now, at least, he decides to refrain from passing judgment (only if because the phone starts ringing, and Mingi does have a job to do that isn’t gossip all day).
Yeosang materializes in front of Mingi’s desk just before lunch. “Here,” he says simply, handing Mingi a small plate with a slice of what seems to be strawberry shortcake on it. “I know you had a frustrating morning, and I had extra,” he explains, before Mingi can ask.
Mingi eyes Yeosang critically. “You didn’t make this,” he says. Yeosang’s cooking skills are legendary around the office, and not in a good way.
“I did not,” Yeosang confirms. “Enjoy your cake, Mingi. I bet you will.”
Yeosang’s acting kinda shady, Mingi thinks as he stabs at the slice of cake with the little fork Yeosang had thoughtfully placed on the plate for him, but that’s nothing new. He’s pretty sure that acting shady sometimes is literally in Yeosang’s job description, honestly.
Yeosang was right about one thing, though. Mingi does enjoy the hell out of the cake.