Work Text:
Byungchan had had a really long day.
He had known absurd working hours and tight deadlines were all that awaited him when he applied for the School of Communication back in 2015. And yet at least once every month or so, he would sit and stare at his final project proposal with the same level of dread, most likely on a gloomy Friday afternoon that should have promised him a weekend well rested. “Should” was the keyword, since he knew instead of rest he would get some irrelevant feedback their client would undoubtedly bestow upon his team at ungodly hours on Sunday night.
Even the calming blue and white of the infographics this time did not stop his head from swimming. Byungchan tore his eyes away from his laptop screen and directed his frustrated gaze at the closed office door on the other side of the room.
“Dude, don’t tell me you haven’t finished the proposal? It’s 6:30!” Hanse said, leaning his chin on the partition of Byungchan’s cubicle and peered down at the communication executive furiously typing on his laptop.
“Stupid Sejun fucked up the data input so I need to redo his whole section!” Byungchan whined, not even looking away from the numbers. “I only need ten more minutes. Seungwoo hyung should be quick with the first level approval right? He already reviewed the draft we sent in.”
He heard Hanse let out an ear-piercing cackle for a second before the man remembered where they were and tamed it down.
“Good luck with that. I just saw Seungsik hyung enter his office and I’m telling you, he isn’t getting out in ten minutes.”
The intense “FUCK” that escaped Byungchan’s mouth only extracted another cackle out of Hanse. It did not sound at all empathetic, not even a little.
The office was dark and quiet now, save for the single light above his section and the low hum of the air conditioner. The white grey door of Seungwoo’s office just stood there silently like a giant menace, taunting Byungchan. He could feel his left eye twitch.
He picked up the handset and pressed the extension for his supervisor.
Seungwoo picked up only after a ring. Byungchan raised a surprised eyebrow at that.
“Seungwoo hyung, before you say anything, I’m terribly sorry about this but I need the proposal approved one more time because the analysis section had some numerical errors.”
“Byungchanie, you’re still at the office?” Seungwoo’s voice was both warm and concerned.
And conspicuously lacking any excessive breathing. Right.
“Yes, I am. The thing is. Director Bae said she would grant a late submission this one time and she’s leaving for the airport in exactly-” Byungchan glanced back at his screen as he waited for the printer to finish with the new proposal, “-seventeen minutes so if I don’t get the signed proposal to her immediately she will skewer all our balls together. Sorry about that, I’m just really freaking out. Can I come in now?”
Emphatic, passionate and straight to the point. Byungchan was proud of himself, some days.
There was only a beat of silence before Seungwoo said, “Of course. Come on in.”
Byungchan could have imagined it, but his supervisor sounded like he was smirking.
The young executive did not give in to any second thought. He couldn’t afford to, now that his balls and Hanse’s and Sejun’s were on the line. He made a grab for the papers and marched over to Seungwoo’s office, opening the door without knocking.
The inside of the room was pristine, as always. The reference catalogs were color-coded and neatly stacked. The In and Out boxes were cleared. The few potted plants were thriving and did not look like they were gonna die any day now - the same couldn’t be said about Byungchan’s own.
And there was definitely no sign of Seungsik.
“Bring that over to me please,” Seungwoo told him. The man was leaning his elbows on the desk, chin resting on his crossed fingers, that signature fond smile tugging up the corners of his lips. Byungchan felt the tension ease out of his shoulders. He unceremoniously deposited the stack of paper in front of Seungwoo before plopping himself down on the opposite guest chair.
“I owe you the world, hyung.”
Seungwoo let out a low chuckle as he rifled through the proposal once again, pausing at the edited section for a more thorough review. His face betrayed no annoyance at having to work overtime - overtime not on his own accord, that was. Instead, there was a hint of amusement in the crinkle of his eyes. Byungchan could not relate. Nothing in those papers could bring him any enjoyment.
He sat back in the comfy chair and closed his eyes. He wondered if it would be too much to fancy himself a few spins, just because he could, “supervisor’s favorite” privilege and all. He worked out the crick in his neck and felt the exhaustion of the day starting to catch up to him, settling into his fragile bones. Sejun had better pay back for this spectacular last-minute save with a thousand massages. And more.
“Ugh-”
The groan was immediately muffled. Byungchan’s eyes snapped open nonetheless. As he sneaked a glance, Seungwoo was still sitting in his chair and looking at the proposal, a perfect picture of nonchalance. Byungchan was ready to let it pass as a figment of his imagination when he heard more noises. Rustling noises of clothes. Shuffling sounds, like said clothes dragged against carpet. They all lasted for exactly a second and then the room went quiet again. But Byungchan had heard enough.
Oh hell no.
He had been warned, and yet he didn’t listen. Byungchan could feel all his neurons fighting over which emotion should be displayed first, embarrassment warring with exasperation. In his head he was cursing out Sejun who was definitely the cause of his suffering and who should have been here in this situation instead of him. God, Sejun would have been too stupid to even realize what kind of situation this was, even if there had been loud banging and thumping noises coming from under the desk, behind which the lower half of Seungwoo’s body was completely hidden.
Byungchan distantly wondered if Seungwoo was still wearing pants, not that he had any plan to confirm that for himself.
The elder chose that exact moment to wrap up his review of the file and looked up at Byungchan, the smile on his mouth crossing the line of fondness to pure mischief.
“Here you go. We should really do away with all these physical signatures though, don’t you think? Remind me to bring it up with the HR and Admin department next time.” His eyes twinkled as he spoke, holding contact with Byungchan’s unimpressed scowl.
You mean the department whose manager is currently hiding under your desk, having god-knows-what done to him even as your junior is sitting here.
Byungchan hoped the expression on his face displayed a combination of apathy and mild disgust. He gathered the paper without standing up, just in case he had to witness some other horrific images from that angle, and made a show of shuffling them into a neat pile by hitting the stack on the desk multiple times. Some parts of him felt bad for Seungsik, knowing for a fact that his hyung must have been mortified, again getting the short end in this game Seungwoo was playing.
Other parts of him thought, you brought this on yourself by choosing to engage in kinky office sex with the devil that was Han Seungwoo.
He turned his chair away and got up, as gracefully as he could, despite the obvious awkward action.
“Trust me, hyung. I don’t wanna bother you with this ever again.”
Byungchan pretended not to hear Seungwoo’s snickers as he closed the door behind him. He was so gonna get his well-deserved massages when he got home. And maybe allowed Sejun to sing “U Go Girl” the whole evening until he could forget the past seven minutes of his life.
As soon as he submitted the proposal and secured the faith of their balls, of course.