Work Text:
Kind regards,
Boo Seungkwan
Human Resources
—the words stare at Hansol, just opened there like he needs to keep an eye on them or they’ll walk off the monitor. Like the email is going to be unsent, or Wonwoo is going to hack into his computer again and delete it just to be funny, or something equally as terrible.
From across the room, over the tops of some cubicles and past where Seokmin is animatedly explaining something absolutely not work-related to Minghao, Hansol can see him—Boo Seungkwan, Human Resources.
In like, a totally non-creepy way obviously.
He’s beautiful. Even under the heinous, fluorescent lighting of the office.
“Uh oh,” Hansol recognizes that as Chan’s voice. “Hansollie hyung has the look again. Soonyoung hyung, check it out.”
Soonyoung laughs. Then, annoyingly, “Careful, Hansollie, you keep your mouth open like that and you’ll catch flies.”
Hansol snaps his mouth shut with a comically loud sound before he sits up, blinking a few times. He spots them right away—Chan, Soonyoung, Joshua—all gathered by the vending machine right outside the breakroom, just a few feet from his desk. Joshua is focused on shoving his fingers at random buttons on the machine, but Soonyoung and Chan are standing there, crowded together, pointing. Very mature workplace environment.
“Can I help you guys?” Hansol asks, doing his best to keep his voice down. “Marketing team’s cubicles are down the hall.”
“I’m on the sales team,” Joshua tells him like he didn’t already know. “And I do need help. The seaweed chips won’t dispense.”
Joshua frowns, abnormally large arms easily tilting the vending machine back. Some snacks shake, but none fall out.
“I don’t do maintenance, Shua hyung.”
“Useless.”
“I bet if Boo Seungkwan from HR needed help at the vending machine, you’d help him.”
Hansol rolls his eyes. He wishes he got placed on another floor sometimes. He wonders what the IT department in the Gangnam office deals with. He wonders what would’ve happened if he stayed in New York for a job after college. He wouldn’t know Soonyoung and Chan, that’s for sure. Maybe his life would be better.
“Do you mind shutting the fuck up?” Hansol asks, both extremely professionally and kindly.
He turns to his computer again, closing his email browser, saying a mental goodbye to Boo Seungkwan, or at least his email, because he doesn’t know him much outside of those, besides polite smiles in the elevator and the breakroom, and that one conversation they had when Seungkwan first started here and was required to meet everyone.
(“Nice to meet you, Hansol-ssi.”
“Nice to meet you, too. If you ever need any help with your computer and stuff, I’m your guy. Or Wonwoo hyung—but I think I’m better than Wonwoo hyung.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”)
“That’s rude,” Chan says. “I should call HR on you.”
Soonyoung laughs, and he and Chan make their way over to Hansol’s cubicle like wolves to prey.
“Ooh!” Sooyoung's eyes light up, positively evil. “Good idea, Chan-ah. I bet Hansollie would love it if Seungkwannie would punish him.”
“Extremely not workplace sanctioned of you, Soonyoung-ah,” Joshua reminds them, just because he’s older than them and has to, and not so much that he cares. Then, more urgently, “am I really out two thousand won right now?”
“Yes,” Chan says. “The vending machine has been broken, by the way. We just lured you over here to help us make fun of Hansol hyung.”
“Goddammit.”
“Don’t you guys have work to do?” Hansol asks, spinning around to face them in his chair. Chan is curling up on his garbage can that he’s flipped upside down to use as a seat while Joshua ransacks his desk, picking up the slinky he has sitting there and dropping one end into Hansol’s lap.
“No,” Joshua says honestly. He waits for Hansol to fish the other half of the slinky out of his crotch and hand it to him. “Not really.”
“You were right, Chan-ah!” Soonyoung’s voice is suddenly right next to Hansol’s ear, way too loud given their proximity and overall office quiet. Hansol jumps a little. “You can see Seungkwannie perfectly from here.”
“I told you he set it up strategically.” Chan is suddenly next to him on the other side, and now Hansol can feel his cheeks flush, embarrassed.
“I did not set up our desks this way,” Hansol tries to defend himself with what is actually the truth. “They were already like this.”
“Oh, look.” Now Joshua has joined them. He laughs a little. “You can see Junnie, too.”
“He’s so cute,” Soonyoung coos. “Hansol-ah, email him and tell him he looks cute from here.”
“I will not be doing that,” Hansol denies. It’s already bad enough thinking of that one time he had to go back in Soonyoung and Junhui’s email chain to retrieve something Mingyu accidentally threw out, only to be met with—not even dirty emails but just straight-up weird ones. Hansol does not kink shame, but he did consider it then. “Can you people stop staring before someone notices us?”
“Too late for that.”
“Jeonghan hyung!” Chan greets him as they all turn around, using the top of Hansol’s head to lean against where he’s standing next to his chair. “Nice pocket protector. Is it new?”
“Yeah, I got it from your mother,” Jeonghan says, which throws Chan off because he was probably being genuine and probably really does like that pocket protector. “What are you guys looking at?”
“Nothing,” Hansol says quickly, sliding in his chair to the right to block the view of where he knows Seungkwan is. The last thing he needs is Yoon Jeonghan to find out he might have a slight infatuation with the newest hire. He will make his life miserable.
“Soonyoung-ah,” Jeonghan tries instead, “what are you guys looking at?”
“Seungkwan-ah,” Soonyoung answers easily. The traitor. “Hansollie has a beautiful view of him from here.” Jeonghan cranes his neck a little to follow Soonyoung’s line of sight. “He can also see Junnie.”
Junhui looks up at that moment, confused, blank look in his eyes, and Soonyoung waves excitedly. Junhui waves back with a wink and then ducks his head back down, face in his keyboard. Soonyoung giggles.
“Oh, I see,” Jeonghan says, all sinister. He crosses his arms and leans against the wall, the cubicle becoming increasingly full. “You have the hots for Boo Seungkwan.”
Joshua snorts out a laugh, Jeonghan cutting daggers in his direction. Joshua shows no sign of fear, though.
“Why would you say it like that?” he asks. “‘Have the hots for.’ What are you? Fifty?”
“What do you want me to say?” Jeonghan says, short. He puts on a voice, “oh, Hansollie wants to bone Seungkwan. Hansol wants to get dicked down by the HR guy. Hansol-ah wants Boo Seungkwan to take a look at his hard drive, for once.”
“I’d rather you not put it that way,” Hansol interrupts, frowning.
“You see?” Jeonghan gestures to Hansol, still glaring at Joshua, who is staring back, a tiny smile on his lips. Which is only mildly scary to Hansol. “Don’t piss me off, Joshua. We were doing well today.”
“You are wearing yellow dress socks with your suit, Yoon Jeonghan,” Joshua points out. “We were never doing well today.”
“Did you come here with a purpose, hyung?” Hansol asks because when Jeonghan and Joshua start, they don’t stop. They’ve all learned that the hard way, unfortunately.
“Right,” Jeonghan says, refocusing on the rest of them, shaking his shoulders like he’s coming back to his body or something. He has a weird look in his eyes, the same one Joshua has in his. Hansol wants to know less about it. “We have a floor meeting tomorrow at nine. Seungcheol wanted to go over sales and finances and budget cuts and—well. I stopped listening to him then because he got boring. But he told me to tell you guys.”
“This could’ve been shared with an email,” Hansol points out because he likes Jeonghan, but he doesn’t particularly like guests, especially when they’re prodding at his—admiration for Seungkwan.
“But then you wouldn’t see my beautiful, shining face, would you, Hansollie?”
“No, hyung, I guess not.”
“Anyway,” Jeonghan shrugs, “be there. Except for you, Shua-ssi. Seungcheol told me if you show up you’ll get fired.”
“Thanks for the heads up.”
“I’m very caring,” Jeonghan says, soundly too sincere for a sarcastic remark. He takes a look around the cubicle, eyes zoning in on Seungkwan from across the room. He smirks. “He’ll be there, too, Hansol-ah. Dress sharp.”
And then he’s gone.
“Great,” Hansol says, but he doesn’t think anything is great at all, actually. “Now Yoon Jeonghan knows.”
“Yoon Jeonghan knows…?” Chan trails off, looking at Hansol expectantly. “Knows… that you do have a big, gay crush on Seungkwan hyung?”
“Woah.” Hansol scoffs. “Why specify that it’s gay?”
“Because it is?”
“It just sounds homophobic coming from you.”
“Don’t even worry about Yoon Jeonghan,” Joshua mumbles, because obviously, they’re still talking about him. “He’s all bite and no bark anyway. Like an annoying, yappy dog.”
“I like Jeonghannie hyung.” Soonyoung frowns a little like he’s in thought. “You just wanna bone him.”
“I do not wanna bone him,” Joshua says so near immediately it’s almost like he does want to bone him. “He’s like an itch I can’t scratch.”
“That’s kind of romantic.”
“It is not romantic,” Joshua corrects. “It’s the harsh reality of being forced onto a team with the one person you cannot stand.”
“Maybe you can get placed on a new team,” Chan suggests. “Talk to HR. Take Hansol hyung with you so he can get Seungkwan—“
“Ok.” Hansol claps his hands. “That’s enough of you people for today. Thank you for coming by and torturing me.”
Hansol turns back around in his chair, silently letting his friends know that he’s done with the conversation. They trudge out like they’ve been defeated, and Hansol watches them walk back to their respective desks, except for Joshua, who stays by the vending machine, shaking it a bit more.
Hansol is halfway through looking up a repairman’s number on behalf of the company when a notification pops up in the corner of his desktop screen, alerting Hansol he’s got a new email. He clicks scarily fast, only in hopes that it’s Seungkwan, getting back to him about that IT issue he had earlier that day that Hansol was able to resolve.
From: Moon Junhwi
Subject: For Soonyoung Only Plz Don’t Read If You’re Hansol
Hansol rolls his eyes, immediately forwarding it to Soonyoung. At least there was a warning.
He doesn’t get paid enough for this.
* * *
Hansol watches, as subtly and normally as he can, Seungkwan bring his coffee to his lips with a graceful hand, pretty lips wrapping around the straw. His eyes get a little big when he takes a sip like he’s really enjoying it, and Hansol has never enjoyed coffee that much, but he thinks Seungkwan is adorable for it, and tries his absolute hardest not to let it show.
Tries being the keyword here.
“Are you supposed to be lowkey?” Wonwoo asks as he slides into the empty chair next to him. He has a coffee in one hand and an energy drink in the other, looking down at them like he has an important choice to make. “Because you’re not. You’re like, definitely staring at Seungkwannie.”
Hansol blinks, sitting up and looking around as if to double-check if anyone else spotted him. He makes brief eye contact with Minghao, who just smirks before going back to listening to Mingyu talk his ear off about some show Minghao probably knows very little about.
“I was—”
Hansol pauses, trying to think of an excuse. There’s no point in lying to Wonwoo. Wonwoo, who already knows Hansol has a very unfortunate crush on Seungkwan, something he figured out when he caught him internet stalking his LinkedIn and Facebook page that one afternoon, but also Wonwoo, who is good at keeping secrets and is an even better friend. “I was checking out his coffee order.”
Hansol still half lies because he has some dignity left. Or so he’d like to think.
“Like you don’t already know it.” Wonwoo laughs, taking a sip of his coffee before grimacing. He places it on the table in front of them, cracking open the energy drink instead. “You should ask him to lunch one day. Or to coffee. Or just—talk to him for more than four seconds or more than an email.”
Hansol laughs like that was funny. Like the very idea of talking to Boo Seungkwan didn’t just send butterflies through Hansol’s stomach. Wonwoo must be insane. He must think a lot of Hansol if he thinks he can do all that.
“You’re really funny, hyung,” Hansol tells him. “If the IT stuff doesn’t work out, you could always do standup.”
Wonwoo hums. “That’s why I am doing IT, Sol-ah. The comedy stuff didn’t work out.”
Hansol laughs again, this time because that actually was funny, and before he can say anything else to distract from the way Seungkwan’s eyes light up from across the room at something Seokmin’s just said to him, Soonyoung is announcing his presence, holding a box of donuts over his head.
“The moment you guys have been waiting for,” he says, very poetically. “Donuts paid for by the company card.”
He places them in the center of the conference table, letting Junhui wrestle the box open for him while the room livens with excitement over the new incentive. He turns to Wonwoo and frowns.
“Wonwoo-yah, what did I tell you about energy drinks before noon?” He takes the drink from Wonwoo’s hand and puts the coffee in it instead. Junhui emerges from behind him again and he hands him the energy drink instead, which Junhui downs in an inhuman amount of time. “Your skin will break out.”
“Thank you for the reminder, dad,” Wonwoo says with a frown. He looks into the coffee cup before looking at Junhui who hands him the empty can. “Why do you still get to experience joys in life?”
Junhui just smiles. “Do you want a donut, Wonu? You look like you want a donut.”
“Ok,” Seungcheol says as he enters the room with a pile of papers in his hand, dumping them on the table in the middle of the room. “Let’s get this over with, shall we?”
“There’s that encouraging mindset that employers love,” Jihoon says through a laugh, grin not faltering even when Seungcheol cuts a look in his direction. “Please proceed, boss man.”
“Do not call me that ever,” Seungcheol requests. He claps his hands once, rolling out his shoulders. “First orders of business—Soonyoung-ah, while your enthusiasm this early in the morning is noted, it’s also inappropriate. Please refrain from using Jun as a chair.”
“Oh, come on,” Soonyoung whines from where he is very much seated in Junhui’s lap. “It’s so crowded here. I’m trying to save room! Social distance! All that!”
“I don’t think there is anything socially distant about you and Jun hyung,” Chan says.
“Yeah,” Seokmin agrees. “You guys are always—glued together. You even do inventory for the supply closet together. And it’s so cramped in there!”
“Seokmin-ah,” Jeonghan says regrettably, “what if I told you they’re not taking inventory?”
“This is targeted harassment,” Soonyoung says dramatically, rising from Junhui’s lap with more movement than is needed. Gross. “I should file something with HR.”
“If you need to reach us, you can go through our suggestion box,” Mingyu says, a pleasant smile on his face.
“Are you guys gonna read it, though?” Junhui huffs. “Because the last time I put a suggestion in there it got ignored.”
“That’s because you suggested something called ‘Manly Monday.’“ Mingyu says through a frown, making sure to throw up air quotes so everyone knows Junhui’s exact idea. “In which everyone doesn’t wear shirts on Mondays?”
Junhui shrugs. “I think you would do beautifully on a Manly Monday, Gyu.”
“Moving on!” Seungcheol picks up the clipboard that he has thrown in front of him and lets out an obnoxious uhhhh as he scans it. Soonyoung, in the meantime, finds a seat next to Joshua and pouts, all like the mature adult he is.
“Right. So corporate got back to us about—everything,” Seungcheol says finally. “Wonwoo or Hansol-ah, I’ll have one of you guys send out the final report later in an email if anyone wants to take a look into it, but they gave a special shout-out to sales. They were up a whole two percent this month compared to last.”
Seungcheol puts down the clipboard and looks pleasantly surprised.
“So sales team,” he gestures to Jeonghan and Joshua, who are sitting a seat away from each other, the middle one occupied by Seokmin, “give each a high five. And keep up the good work!”
Seokmin starts an unnecessary, slow clap, which phases neither Jeonghan nor Joshua, as they keep their eyes locked on Seungcheol.
“Or don’t do that,” Seungcheol says, shaking his head. He pouts a little, sitting into his hip. “Can you guys at least congratulate each other for morale purposes so we can move on?”
Jeonghan rolls his eyes. “Seokmin-ah,” he says, “please tell Joshua he is doing a good job given his below-average abilities.”
“Shua hyung,” Seokmin turns to him weakly, “Jeonghannie hyung said, uh, nice work.”
“Seokmin-ah,” Joshua says slowly, “tell him I said he is doing well too, even though he’s too lazy to reach his full potential.”
Seokmin frowns. “Jeonghan hyung—“
“Seokmin-ah, tell Shua he is—“
“Way to go sales!” Seungcheol concludes for them, picking up the clap that Seokmin had started before, and dropping the clipboard. “Next up—Human Resources has a few announcements. Take it away, boys.”
Mingyu and Seungkwan stand up, and Hansol tries very hard to pretend like Seungkwan isn’t there. He even does an amazing job of ignoring the way his pants hug the lithe curve of his waist beautifully, too, and actually, he hardly even notices the cute, pink hue to his cheeks that comes with now being the center of attention. Hansol is doing great, thank you very much.
“Well,” Mingyu starts, flashing his pointy canines as he smiles, “as you guys know, our end-of-the-year holiday party is the most anticipated event of the year, and for good reason.”
The room mumbles out agreements, Soonyoung reminding everyone cheerfully, “remember last year when we got Myungho-yah to pole dance on the yardsticks Seokminie and I glued together?”
Seungkwan’s eyes widen. “You guys did what?”
“It wasn’t during work hours,” Minghao says with a wave of his hand, “you people can’t fire me, it’d be discrimination.”
“Anyway,” Mingyu happily goes on, “corporate told us we’re not allowed to spend our entire budget on that anymore. Something about—irresponsible spending on disproportionate goods that just eternalize a toxic environment they’re trying to avoid.”
He shakes his head.
“I’ll forward you the email if any of you guys really care.”
“They’re taking away our Christmas party?!” Jihoon whines, slumping down in his seat. “They might as well take the fucking sun from the sky while they’re at it.”
“Or the grass from the ground. Oxygen from the air,” Seokmin says, then pauses. “I’m out of analogies.”
“This is hell,” Minghao agrees with a solemn nod. “We are living in a real, modern hell.”
“I don’t even really know what they’re referring to,” Junhui admits. “You said ‘Christmas party’ and my mind automatically blacked out. A response triggered by being over-served eggnog over the past few years.”
“You should probably see a doctor about that,” Wonwoo advises warily.
“They’re not taking it away!” Seungkwan is quick to assure everyone. “Mingyu, why would you lead like that?”
“Sorry.” Mingyu shrugs. “The drama was kind of amusing for a second.”
Seungkwan rolls his eyes. “The Christmas party stays. They just want us to do some more team building and leisure activities during the year. So more of the budget is spread out and, well, so Jun hyung can actually remember the party this year.”
Jihoon still looks less than impressed. “This is no longer a democracy.” He reaches out to grab Seungcheol's arm and shakes him. “Cheol hyung, please bring back democracy.”
“After this meeting, you guys can give us some ideas you’d like to do in the future and then we’ll send out a Google survey to pick the best ones,” Seungkwan explains carefully. “Wonwoo and Hansol-ssi, would you be able to help us with that?”
Hansol thinks he almost blacks out for a second. He’s spoken to Seungkwan before, emailed him dozens of times, but he doesn’t think Seungkwan has ever—looked him straight in the eye and addressed him without some sort of pre-warning. Oh, god, he’s doomed. He’s pathetic and doomed.
“Sure,” Wonwoo agrees easily, which he thinks must be because his mouth is dry and his palms are sweaty, and Wonwoo is a good friend. “We’ll set something up.”
Seungkwan smiles. “Perfect,” he says and Hansol very much agrees he is.
“Thank you, Mingyu and Seungkwan,” Seungcheol says, giving them another round of weak, but encouraging applause, standing up again. “Anyone else have anything to contribute before we move on?”
Soonyoung raises his hand.
“Anyone else have anything to contribute that is not about Moon Junhwi?”
Soonyoung lowers his hand.
“Ok, great. Let’s keep going, shall we?”
* * *
Ready when you are!
Kind regards,
Boo Seungkwan
Human Resources
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Wonwoo notes over the tiny wall of their shared cubicle. “It’s just a Google form, dude. I’m pretty sure it’s not even going to require your help. I think they just legally have to give us stuff to do.”
Hansol rolls his eyes, turning in his chair to face Wonwoo. Junhui is there, too, holding a roll of duct tape and the mouse from his computer, just staring.
“You think the Google form is what I’m worried about, hyung?”
“Could be.” Wonwoo shrugs. “You’re more of a Microsoft guy.”
“It’s Seungkwannie!” Hansol whisper-yells to his friend, turning back in his chair. He quickly hits the reply button on Seungkwan’s email, typing out a response.
Sounds good, be there in two.
Chwe Hansol
Information Technology
“Can’t you just do it for him?” Hansol whines. “Can’t I just go to Mingyu hyung and do it?”
“No,” Wonwoo says simply. “There would be no fun in that.”
“You’ll be fine, Hansol-ah,” Junhui says, optimistic. “Give yourself more credit, you’re much cooler than you think. Smarter, too. And you could hold a conversation nicely as long as you don’t catch sight of his ass!”
“That’s exactly what I’m afraid of, hyung.”
Hansol visibly shivers at the thought. Seungkwan’s pants today fit him in a way that should be illegal. Hansol has never looked that good in pants in his entire twenty-five years of living.
Junhui throws a hand at him, fingers stuck with pieces of duct tape. Hansol thinks he must be trying to fix the wires. “If you feel an inappropriate workplace boner coming on, just do what I do—”
“No boner talk during work hours,” Seungcheol says as he walks past their cubicle, not even stopping for further discussion.
“We’re talking about killing them!” Junhui yells over his shoulder, voice much quieter as he continues, and thank god, too. “Anyway, whenever Soonyoungie does something really hot like—I don’t know, eat an entire kimbap in one bite at lunch, or answer the phone with his customer service voice when I call to be silly, I always think of that one time Jeonghannie hyung presented the sales team’s financial reports.”
“You think of Jeonghannie hyung?” Wonwoo snorts out a laugh.
“Financial reports!” Junhui corrects him. “That’s the important part. Big numbers. Monotone voice. No donuts paid for by the company card.”
Wonwoo hums. “It was so dismal that day.”
“Ok.” Hansol nods. “It’s not good advice, but it’s all I’m getting right now, so.”
“That’s the spirit!” Junhui smiles like he’s just done his job, done it well, too, and goes back to wrapping tape around the bent wire of his mouse.
“Don’t stress, Sol-ah,” Wonwoo tells him. “We are men of technology and facts—don’t let your feelings get in the way of that.”
“That might be the nerdiest thing you’ve ever said to me,” Hansol tells him, rising from his seat on nervous legs. “But thanks, hyung.”
Hansol pays very little attention to the rest of the office as he makes his way over to Seungkwan’s.
That means he does a great job of ignoring Seokmin and Mingyu’s argument about spreadsheet organization in Seokmin’s cubicle and even surpasses Jeonghan and Joshua’s thick tension without so much as batting an eye, instead focused on keeping his cool when he gets to Seungkwan’s.
Cool, he can be.
“Uh, hi,” Hansol sticks his head into Seungkwan’s cubicle, knocking lightly on the wall. It doesn’t make a noise, considering it’s kind of covered with a soft outside, and Hansol pretends like that doesn’t embarrass him. “Ready for me?”
“Hansol-ssi!” Seungkwan greets him happily, spinning around in his chair. He stands up with a smile and Hansol does not look below his shoulders. “What’s up?”
“Nothing really," Hansol shrugs. Conversation. He can make conversation. “It’s a Wednesday.”
“It is, isn’t it,” Seungkwan says like he gets it, like Hansol’s statement was supposed to even really mean anything. He reaches for one of the chairs lined against the other side of the cubicle and pulls it closer to them. “Wanna get started?”
“Sure,” Hansol agrees, giving Seungkwan a smile that he hopes doesn’t look as nervous as he feels. “You just tell me where you want me.”
Seungkwan doesn’t seem to react, just pulls a chair up by his and starts moving some papers around on his desk, but Hansol is absolutely going through the five stages of grief right now. Why would he say that? Why would he phrase it that way? Why is he so hopelessly enthralled with Boo Seungkwan that it is ruining his life?
Seungkwan pats the seat next to his, gesturing for Hansol to come over. “Take a seat,” he urges, and Hansol does because he’s there to do his job and also thinks he’d do anything Seungkwan told him to.
“I have a spreadsheet of all the suggestions we gathered yesterday,” Seungkwan begins, pulling up said spreadsheet and gesturing ahead. “A sneak peek at the ideas. You are so lucky, Chwe Hansol.”
Hansol laughs, pretending he doesn’t like the way Seungkwan says his name very much. He leans forward, taking a look.
“Karaoke, a spa day, paintball,” Hansol reads off. “Do you know who wrote what?”
“I don’t know everyone’s handwriting like Mingyu hyung does yet,” Seungkwan says, somewhat remorseful. “Soonyoungie hyung did sign his, though. He suggested a calendar photo shoot that we would all be in but him. He wanted to direct.”
“Sounds like Soonyoung hyung.”
“He’s funny,” Seungkwan says, relatively fond. “Anyway, that’s that. Work your magic, Mr. Information Technology.”
He turns the keyboard in Hansol’s direction, leaning back in his seat. Hansol reaches over him for the mouse and very normally moves it to his side. Hansol is honestly kind of proud of himself.
“Mr. Information Technology,” Hansol repeats. “Are nicknames HR approved?”
“I’m HR, Hansol-ssi, not the fun police.”
“Noted,” Hansol says and then it’s silent for a minute as Hansol begins to get to work.
Truthfully, Wonwoo was probably right; they didn’t need IT to do this at all, but they need to be given some work since the majority of their job just relies on somebody in the office breaking something. Hansol doesn’t mind, though. It’s easy and allows him to properly speak to Seungkwan, which he is maybe doing better at than he had anticipated.
“So do you like working here so far?” Hansol decides to ask, glancing over his shoulder at Seungkwan. He’s surprised to see he’s already looking at him, but when Seungkwan doesn’t falter or blush like Hansol himself thinks he might, so Hansol pretends he wasn’t, and turns back to the computer.
“That sounds like an HR question.”
“I’m coming for your job.”
“At least take Mingyu’s position,” Seungkwan jokes. “I’m new, you have to be nice.”
“So?”
Seungkwan leans forward again, closer to Hansol’s space, but not close enough to be weird. He smells good and Hansol pretends not to notice.
“I do like it,” Seungkwan says confidently. “You guys are all very… eclectic.”
“That’s a nice way to put it.”
Seungkwan laughs and it sounds like Hansol’s favorite song. “I mean it!” He pats Hansol’s shoulder like he’s really driving the point home and Hansol hopes Seungkwan doesn’t notice the typo he’s just made because of it. “You’re all nice. Make me feel welcome, too. A bit—unprofessional sometimes, but it makes me laugh. Just don’t tell corporate.”
“Unprofessional is also a nice way to put it,” Hansol says. “I would never tell on you, though.”
“Very admirable of you,” Seungkwan says. “But would you tell on anyone else? I do kind of want workplace gossip. Is that wrong of me?”
Hansol laughs, painstakingly picking out the color for this form because he wants to waste time next to Seungkwan and Seungkwan doesn’t seem to mind. He tries a blue.
“Nosey,” Hansol admonishes. “Aren’t you HR for a reason?”
“Yes,” Seungkwan huffs, “and no one will tell me the drama because of that. They think I’ll—report them or something. They only tell Mingyu.”
“And Mingyu?”
“Mingyu says it’d be bad karma for him to tell me,” Seungkwan answers. “So tell me, Hansol-ssi. Do Yoon Jeonghan and Joshua have a history?”
Hansol laughs again. “No,” he says. “They just—hate each other. And no one knows why. I don’t think they even know. Soonyoung hyung and Channie think they should, uhm—”
“Sleep together?”
“Boo Seungkwan, Human Resources, everybody,” Hansol says.
Seungkwan nudges him. Talking with him is easy. Hansol likes it. “I told you, I’m not the fun police.”
“Well, you said it, then.” On the computer in front of them, Hansol picks a dark gray color instead. It looks decent.
Seungkwan hums. “They make good sales, though.”
“The best in the district, two years running,” Hansol confirms, only reiterating the plaque they have hanging inside their cubicle. It’s the only thing they truly share.
“And Soonyoung and Junhwi?”
“Dating,” Hansol confirms. “I don’t know how long, I try to stay out of it. Although, they very much like everyone to be a part of it.”
“I noticed that,” Seungkwan says with a laugh. “If I see them in the breakroom together, I usually wait until they leave to go in.”
“Excellent survival skills, Seungkwan-ssi,” Hansol says. “Keep it up and you just might last.”
Seungkwan laughs again, just slightly, but it’s still just as cute. Hansol thinks he can still feel his eyes on him as he says, “I hope I do.”
Me too, is what Hansol doesn’t say.
* * *
How to Approach an Office Romance (and How Not To) is what the paper that Soonyoung slides in front of Hansol during lunch says. It’s an article, one from that news source they get free for working here. Soonyoung says nothing as he puts it down. Just takes a seat in between Minghao and Junhui and folds his hands.
“What is this?” Hansol asks through a mouth full of food, still staring at the article. There are ten bullet points on the page and Hansol is, admittedly, mildly interested to read.
“Professional pointers to bag Seungkwan,” Soonyoung says, obviously. He scoots his chair a little closer to Junhui and smiles like he’s content, reaching for the bag of chips that Junhui has there and stealing a few. Junhui lets him. “I remembered it from when I started crushing on Junnie. Wonu sent it to me. Or maybe it was Shua hyung. Either way, it was someone who loved and supported me, so I wanted you to feel the same. We love you Chwe Hansol. We love you and your hot pursuit for Boo Seungkwan!”
“You had a crush on me, Soonyoungie? Did my work on the finance team get you all hot and bothered?” Junhui grins wildly. “That’s embarrassing.”
“Would you lower your voice?” Hansol asks, ducking down and looking around like Boo Seungkwan could pop out at any moment. And like, he could, Hansol guesses. “And now Myungho and Junnie hyung know, too. So thanks, Soonyoung hyung.”
“I already knew,” Junhui shrugs, leaning into the hand Soonyoung has started to pet the top of his head with. “Soonyoungie told me like, two weeks ago.”
“Hyung.” Hansol looks at him, mouth pressed in a straight line.
“Jun-ah and I tell each other everything!” Soonyoung defends himself. “It’s the key to a healthy relationship.”
“That,” Junhui says, “and lots of foreplay.”
“Ew?”
“I also already knew,” MInghao says, taking a long sip of the tea he has in front of him. He does a miraculous job of ignoring Soonyoung and Junhui, too, and Hansol wishes he could say the same. “You look at him like he is the eighth wonder of the world.”
“That is not—”
“True?” Soonyoung finishes for him. “Don’t be a liar, Hansol-ah.”
“Don’t you have anything better to do?” he asks, impatient. “Like, I don’t know, defile a supply closet?”
“No, we did that already today,” Junhui says guilelessly, shoving a few chips in his mouth as he does.
Soonyoung pulls at one of his ears as if to silently tell him to shut up, and then continues. “I have nothing to do. You, however, need to get to reading. There are some good tips there!”
“Don’t hide it,” Minghao reads off the paper, nodding. “Nice. You’re already one step down, Hansol-ah.”
“That is not true,” Hansol argues, once again weakly. Soonyoung looks at him like he’s pathetic and Hansol thinks he really might be. “I hardly even interact with Seungkwan-ssi.”
“It’s not about interacting,” Minghao points out.
“It’s about the longing look you give him from across the room when you think you’re safe in your cubicle,” Junhui finishes, and Hansol has never hated Junhui before but he thinks he might start now. Since he wants to be so annoyingly right.
“Hey,” is all Hansol can insubstantially disagree with.
Junhui holds his hands up like he’s surrendering. “I’m simply pointing out the obvious. I sit in the direct pathway from your cubicle to Seungkwan’s. So half the time I look up it’s just you—trying to put a baby in him with your eyeballs.”
“What is wrong with you?” Minghao asks Junhui very sincerely, which Hansol sort of wants to agree with, even if he may look at Seungkwan a little more salaciously than he probably should.
“How much time do you have?” Junhui says back, and before they can even unpack any of that, Seungkwan and Mingyu march in, which makes Hansol nervous that Seungkwan heard something he probably shouldn’t have.
When he goes on unperturbed, though, Hansol thinks he’s in the clear and must just be suffering from major guilt.
“Hi, guys,” Mingyu greets them casually. He’s holding a clipboard in one hand and a protein shake in the other. He takes a big sip. “What’s for lunch?”
“Junnie’s chips,” Soonyoung says happily through a mouthful, holding up the bag he had stolen from his boyfriend.
“That’s nice,” Mingyu says absently. “And like, seriously. I’m glad that isn’t a euphemism.”
Soonyoung’s eyes narrow with evil glee, “it can be one.”
“I am literally HR.”
“It’s ok,” Junhui says with a shake of his head. Soonyoung is still petting his hair. “It’s consensual.”
“Because that’s the problem here?”
“Anyway,” Seungkwan interrupts, a smile on his face like he’s trying to hold back a laugh, “we just came to drop some quick news.”
“Ooh,” Minghao says, excited, “did my request to get moved away from Jeonghan and Joshua hyung’s cubicle finally get approved? I am so sick of listening to them bicker.”
“Uh,” Seungkwan stammers, “no. But we’re working on it!”
Minghao frowns. “Would you work on it any faster if I told you that yesterday Jeonghan only responded to him in pig Latin just because Joshua doesn’t understand it?”
Mingyu audibly laughs this time, and then stops when he sees Minghao still frowning. “Did he really do that?”
“Yes,” Minghao says, pained. “I had to email Shua hyung all day to translate for him. Just—sat there waiting, listening for when Jeonghannie hyung was going to speak because Joshua didn’t want to admit defeat. I didn’t pee for hours.”
“There’s that team building you guys are always talking about,” Hansol says, smiling at Mingyu and Seungkwan, which makes Mingyu frown, but Seungkwan—smile bigger than he probably should, and make the butterflies in Hansol’s stomach roam wild.
He’s so pretty, Hansol thinks helplessly.
“Right,” Mingyu says, somewhat defeated. “Well, speaking of team building—”
“We came up with the leisure activity that everyone voted on,” Seungkwan finishes for him. ‘Thanks to the form you helped me with, Hansol-ssi.”
Hansol feels his cheeks redden and wishes he couldn’t. “Oh,” he says stupidly, “it was no big deal.”
“So helpful of you, Hansollie,” Soonyoung teases, reaching around Junhui to try and pat his head as well. Hansol dodges his hand and Soonyoung frowns.
“The form was helpful, sure.” Mingyu looks impatient now. “We’ll be doing karaoke then. Which—exciting! Aren’t you guys excited?”
The table makes an unenthusiastic, half-hearted cheer and Seungkwan sits into his hip, sighing.
“Alcohol will also be served and it will all be purchased on the company card,” he offers. “Better?”
“I have always loved karaoke and hanging out with you guys outside of work hours,” Minghao says, clapping his hands together and giving them all a delightful smile.
“That’s the spirit,” Mingyu encourages, reaching out to pat him on the back. His eyes widen with curiosity as he leans down to peer at what Minghao has now dropped—Soonyoung’s fucking article. “How to Approach an Office Romance (and How Not To)? Who’s reading that?”
Mingyu snorts out a laugh, looking around the table for the culprit. For all it’s worth, the rest of them do not give him up, instead averting their eyes elsewhere. Hansol isn’t sure where to look. He feels guilty, even though he definitely didn’t print this out himself and he definitely wasn’t planning on starting any type of workplace romance, even if he really does like Seungkwan.
“It’s mine,” Minghao says quickly, hugging the paper close to him, away from Mingyu’s sight.
“You interested in someone, Myungho hyung?” Seungkwan asks warily, which Hansol can tell is only because he’s a little nosey—Seungkwan’s confession from the other day.
“Uhhh—”
“He’s going to be our third,” Soonyoung butts in unhelpfully, saying it with so much conviction Hansol thinks Junhui might even be fooled for a minute.
“Oh.” Seungkwan’s eyes go big and his mouth hangs open a little in subtle shock. He doesn’t notice the way Minghao is now glaring at Soonyoung, nor notice the way Junhui looks thoroughly confused. “Is this some sort of…”
Seungkwan gestures between the four of them and suddenly Hansol feels guilty again. He quickly shakes his head because he does not want to give anyone the wrong idea, especially not Seungkwan.
“No, it is not,” he says. “We were just eating lunch. I didn’t know this was—”
“A sex meeting?” Mingyu offers.
Minghao rolls his eyes. “What happened to ‘I am literally HR?’”
“Oh, c’mon, Myungho-yah,” Mingyu says, cheeky, “don’t act like we haven’t been in the same situation ourselves.”
Minghao stands abruptly, grabbing his tea and giving all of them a tight smile. “I’m leaving,” he decides.
“Ok, Myungho,” Soonyoung says with a wink, “we’ll be in touch then.”
He steps out of the room faster than anyone can process, a blur of black and white and a well-pressed tie.
Mingyu looks around like the other man’s done a disappearing act. “Wait! You left your detailed steps on how to approach an office romance!” Mingyu calls after him, grabbing them off the table and chasing him down the hall. Minghao moves fast. Especially fast when he is mortified and angry.
He’s a good friend.
“I’m lost,” Junhui says. He looks at Soonyoung as he goes on, “Did you and Myungho discuss something without me?”
“We should probably get back to work, baby,” Soonyoung decides, standing up and ushering Junhui with him. “I’ll tell you about it on the way, ok?”
“See you guys,” Seungkwan says cautiously. “Come to HR if you need!”
And then they’re gone and it’s just Seungkwan and Hansol in the kitchen and Hansol doesn’t know if he is thankful for that or not.
“That got out of hand fast,” Seungkwan says through a laugh, just a tiny one like he isn’t sure if he actually should or not.
“Yeah,” Hansol agrees. “It usually does.”
Seungkwan laughs again, this time at Hansol, and it makes Hansol feel all proud inside.
“Well,” he says, “I hope you’re excited about karaoke at least.”
“I love karaoke,” Hansol tells him honestly. “That was my vote on the google form.”
“Mine, too,” Seungkwan says with a smile. “I look forward to singing with you then, Chwe Hansol.”
“Likewise.”
“I look forward to drinking with you, too,” Seungkwan adds, and maybe Hansol is just horny, delusional, and-or desperate at this point, but something about the way Seungkwan says it seems—flirty. It makes Hansol’s palms sweaty against the water bottle he’s holding.
“Likewise,” he says again because he doesn’t know what else he can trust himself to say.
“Hansol-ah,” Jeonghan enters the kitchen then, face twisted in a pout and Hansol only kinda hates him for ruining whatever chance at a moment they could’ve had.
“Hi, hyung,” Hansol greets him, albeit a little begrudgingly. “Need something?”
“Yes.” Jeonghan straightens up, collecting himself. “Hypothetically speaking, if someone emailed Shua a virus to download to his computer disguised as not a virus, would we be able to trace it back to the source? Like, can you and Wonu really do that? Are you guys really that good at your jobs?”
“That’s oddly specific, hyung,” Seungkwan points out, but Jeonghan just throws a hand at him.
“It would be extremely easy, yeah,” Hansol says. “Considering we don’t have the capability of receiving external emails, anyone sending spam would be—someone within the company.”
“Technology will be our downfall,” Jeonghan says ominously, before he practically slithers out of the room again, not without another word.
“I love working here,” Hansol jokes, now just he and Seungkwan again.
“Me, too,” he laughs, and this time, Hansol laughs back. “I guess I should get going—I have a feeling Shua hyung will be complaining to me soon.”
“What gave you that idea?”
Seungkwan hums, smiling. “I’ll see you later, Hansol-ssi.”
“You will,” Hansol confirms, and Seungkwan smiles once more, turning around so Hansol can watch him walk out without another word.
Hansol wonders if enjoying the view is something that could be listed in that article Soonyoung gave him. He’s doomed.
* * *
“This one goes out to Choi Seungcheol,” Soonyoung is saying into the microphone in their karaoke room later next week, drink in one hand half empty. “You’re the best boss in the world.”
He dramatically points to Seungcheol before gesturing to Seungkwan who happily hits play and Nobody by the Wonder Girls starts blasting, Seungcheol’s expression melting into something of confusion. Soonyoung starts singing anyway, but not without the help of Chan, who grabs the other mic, and Seokmin who picks up a tambourine.
“Have we already over-served him?” Seungcheol asks nervously, taking a slow sip of his beer.
“No, it’s ok,” Junhui assures them. “It’ll only become a problem when he gets to the point where he thinks he’s a stripper.”
“Is that… a known thing he does?” Seungkwan moves closer to where the group is huddled along one of the walls, stepping away from the karaoke machine like he’s just done something wrong by letting him sing.
“Yes,” Wonwoo answers without much of a second thought.
Jihoon adds, “Why do you think our Christmas parties are so much fun?”
“That’s—concerning.”
“No, it isn’t,” Minghao argues over the music that is now blasting. “If it doesn’t happen on company time, we cannot be fired! I read the handbook.”
“Hey, Myungho-yah,” Jeonghan leans in, “is there anything in the handbook that states that you can be fired for being annoying and having an ugly haircut?”
Minghao blinks at him. “No, Jeonghan hyung, there isn’t.”
Jeonghan turns to Joshua and just sadly shakes his head. “At least I tried.”
“One day, I will get rid of you and no one will even miss you,” Joshua says emotionlessly.
Mingyu laughs. “That definitely can’t be workplace sanctioned.”
“Speaking of workplace sanctioned,” Wonwoo gestures to the stage, “Soonyoungie is grinding on Chan.”
“It’s not during work hours!” Junhui insists, oddly ok with the scene before them. Although it is Junhui, so maybe it’s not too odd. “We’re good!”
“Lee Chan! Kwon Soonyoung!” Seokmin cheers in time with the song, a tambourine waving in the air, which Mingyu breaks away to steal from him, diffusing a bit of the conversation.
“Having fun?” Seungkwan sneaks up out of nowhere to ask Hansol, and Hansol is glad mostly everyone is focused on the atrocity that is happening to the Wonder Girls’ song right now because that way nobody can tell that Hansol’s cheeks turn a little pink at Seungkwan’s sudden attention.
He’s been friendlier to Hansol since they worked on the survey together. Not in an outward way or anything, but Hansol has found that Seungkwan smiles at him more often when they pass each other in the morning, and sometimes he’ll pop his head into Hansol’s cubicle to thank him for getting that IT issue up and running again, or sometimes he’ll add a smiley face to the ends of his emails and it makes Hansol’s stomach feel warm and fuzzy.
Hansol also doesn’t know what any of it means. Friendship, most likely, though. And that’s—very cool with Hansol.
“A blast,” Hansol answers, nervously bringing his beer to his lips. He doesn’t like the taste, doesn’t particularly enjoy the taste of any alcohol, really, but everyone else was drinking, so he guesses he might as well, too. “I can feel the team being built as we speak.”
“Oh, don’t be a smartass, Chwe Hansol,” Seungkwan admonishes. He giggles a little and Hansol has to forcibly stop himself from swooning. “I’m enjoying it at least. People are actually talking to me without the fear of me calling corporate to talk about their personal life.”
“Really?” Hansol cocks his head. “That’s a plus, I guess.”
Seungkwan nods. “It might’ve just been Soonyoung telling me he and Jun hyung can’t… be intimate together on Thursdays because that’s when their favorite show airs, but. I also finally learned what part of America Joshua is from! So, ha.”
“I could’ve told you where Josh was from,” Hansol says through a laugh.
“Josh,” Seungkwan repeats, putting on a funny American accent. “I guess you could have. I made the mistake of asking Jeonghan hyung first.”
“And?”
“He told me he wasn’t allowed to disclose it since Joshua hyung ‘had a criminal record.’”
“You probably shouldn’t trust Yoon Jeonghan with information about any of us in the future.”
“Noted.” Seungkwan eyes him, taking a small sip from his drink. Then, conversationally, “Where are you from, Hansol?”
“Born in New York, then I moved here when I was a kid,” Hansol says, feeling like a broken record at this point. Most people only ask because of how he looks; he feels like Seungkwan asks only because he’s interested.
“Seoul?” Seungkwan tilts his head. “Or this karaoke room?”
“This karaoke room,” Hansol jokes. “Where are you from, Boo Seungkwan?”
“Here. Then Jeju. Then here.”
“Oranges,” Hansol offers, the sole piece of trivia he knows about the place.
“They’re mandarins,” Seungkwan corrects him. “Is that all you know about Jeju?”
“Yup.” Hansol smiles, delighted when Seungkwan smiles back. “Mandarins and Boo Seungkwan.”
“You’ve got the important stuff down,” Seungkwan says, giving him a little nod. Hansol likes the way Seungkwan looks at him, the way it’s like he almost wants to eat him, like he’s considering him, for his mind, body, soul, and whatever else he has to give. Hansol wants him to have it all.
Hansol notices Seungkwan is talking again, this time his cheeks a faint pink, and so he snaps out of his Seungkwan-induced haze rather quickly to pay attention to the actual Seungkwan instead.
“Hansol-ssi,” he’s saying, and god, does Hansol love when Seungkwan says his name, “would it be weird if I—”
“Seungkwan-ah,” Mingyu is suddenly interrupting, six foot something and sturdy muscle holding Seungkwan in a hug that looks downright painful. Seungkwan only reacts with a tiny eye roll, easing the pressure of the hug by pushing back. “It’s time to do what we came here for—the impossible.”
Hansol wants to tell Mingyu to fuck off, or at least to politely go away, because Seungkwan was just obviously about to ask Hansol something, something probably important, so leave it to Kim Mingyu to not be able to read a room ever, and get in the way. Hansol loves Mingyu, honestly, but fuck, if his timing isn’t the worst.
“The impossible?” Seungkwan raises a brow. “Hit that one note in that Red Velvet song?”
“What? No.” Mingyu shakes his head and then rolls his eyes. “Seokmin already did that earlier, anyway. Overachiever.”
“Don’t sound too happy for him, hyung,” Hansol jokes, which Mingyu does not seem to find as funny.
“Anyway,” he makes a point of saying. “I’m talking about Jeonghan and Joshua hyung. It’s time to mend the Great Sales Team Fracture.”
Hansol snorts out a laugh. “That’s what we’re calling their years-long, inexplicable feud?”
Mingyu sits into his hip, frowning. “The name is in progress. Do we need to send out a Google survey to get opinions on that, too?”
Wonwoo materializes out of nowhere then, taking a sip from his beer and then looking between them. “I would help facilitate that, just saying.”
In front of them, Junhui and Jihoon are finishing up a ballad that has nearly moved Seokmin to tears, and Seungcheol is reaching over to wrestle the mic from a vaguely annoyed Jihoon, who gives it up only after a tiny, silent fight, just because Jihoon is a bit of a pain in the ass.
“Jeonghan hyung! Shua hyung!” Seungkwan claps his hands together, reaching for the mic from Junhui. “You guys look like you want to sing some Big Bang together! Let’s sing some Big Bang!”
“Don’t I share enough with him?” Jeonghan whines. “First a job title, then a cubicle, now you want me to share Big Bang? Don’t take that away from me. Not my Big Bang.”
“Super Junior is better,” Seokmin says, earning a glare from Jeonghan.
“Your mom is better.”
“True, and I would know,” Chan decides to involve himself now, a silly, little smirk on his face as he goes on to say, “considering I was at her house last night and I fu—”
“It’s called team building and leisure,” Seungcheol says sternly, even though both Jeonghan and Joshua are far past the point of fearing him. “Grab the mics.”
“Although there are probably other team building and leisure activities you guys would probably prefer to do,” Soonyoung says slyly, giving them an over-exaggerated wink that neither of them reacts to.
“What does that mean, Soonyoung-ah?” Joshua asks, deadpan. He’s still staring at him, expression blank. Mingyu has moved Joshua’s vodka cranberry from his hand to deposit the mic in it instead and then takes a sip for himself.
“Y’know,” Soonyoung says, vaguely. He winks again.
“Do you know what he’s trying to imply?” Joshua looks at Jeonghan.
“I want to say yes because I don’t want to agree with you,” Jeonghan says. “But I genuinely have no idea.”
“Great, thanks.”
“You are not welcome.”
“That was rhetorical.”
“You’re rhetorical.”
“And you are annoying,” Joshua tells him, turning his body entirely to face him. The way he’s holding the mic makes it look like a weapon. “Quite literally the most annoying man I have ever met, actually.”
“Oh, yeah?” Jeonghan raises an eyebrow, stifling a laugh. Seungkwan gets the other microphone to him and now they’re just standing there face to face, mics in hand like they’re about to duel. “What are you gonna do about it, Shua, huh?”
“The sexual tension is palpable,” Soonyoung stage whispers to Junhui, which makes both Jeonghan and Joshua explode with rage, but it quickly gets lost under the sound of Fantastic Baby booming through the speakers, which they both jump into seamlessly.
“Nothing a little HR team building and leisure can’t solve!” Mingyu says happily, clapping Chan hard on the back, before he straightens up like he’s just remembered something. “That reminds me, Myungho-yah, how’s it going with Soonyoung and Junnie hyung? Did you guys figure out how to include him as your third yet?”
“Include who as what?” Jihoon asks, eyes wide, at the same time that Seokmin, appalled, “you guys asked him over me?!”
Minghao groans, exasperated, running a hand through his hair and Hansol has to actively try not to laugh. Junhui reaches out to grab Minghao’s hand, tenderly, maybe a joke, but also maybe not because you never know with Junhui, and he snaps it back, mouth pressed in a straight line. You can hardly hear over the sound of Jeonghan and Joshua trying to be louder than each other when he asks, distressed, “how much longer are we here for?”
“Seo Myungho!” Seungkwan exclaims. “We’re just getting started!”
“We need a team un-building activity,” Wonwoo concludes solemnly. “We are all far too comfortable with each other.”
“If you need to reach HR,” Mingyu says, practiced, “you can contact us via suggestion box!”
Hansol has a headache. Little to no progress with Boo Seungkwan, and a headache.
* * *
“I think I’m dying,” Joshua says, head in his hands as he sits in the corner of Wonwoo’s cubicle, legs folded against his chest, in the bean bag chair he has there. “No—I’ve died and I’ve gone to hell. I’m already dead.”
“Couldn’t agree more, hyung, happy Friday,” Wonwoo says, eyes unmoving from his computer where he’s currently engaged in a heated game of solitaire.
“How much did you drink last night?” Hansol asks through a laugh, the volume of his voice too loud for Joshua, causing him to groan and sink deeper into the bean bag. Maybe karaoke on a Thursday night wasn’t the best idea.
They’ll take it up with Human Resources.
“Too much. Not enough. I don’t know. Maybe I’m just getting old.”
“That’s true,” Wonwoo agrees.
“I am only a year older than you.”
“Technicalities.”
“Shua-ssi, there you are!”
It’s Jeonghan—which, if Joshua didn’t think he had died and gone to hell before, now he definitely does. He looks up and makes vague eye contact with the light fixture on the ceiling as if he’s asking the beyond what he did to deserve this.
“Hi, Wonu, Sollie.” Jeonghan greets them, before his eyes zero back on Joshua, like he’s a bloodthirsty killer. Which—
“Joshua, I’ve been looking for you,” Jeonghan tuts. “We have so much work to do today and you’ve been avoiding me. I even made such a brightly colored spreadsheet to go over with you at an overly enthusiastic volume and everything.”
“I am going to hire a hitman to take you out,” Joshua says weakly, finally looking up. He sees the spreadsheet in question that Jeonghan is holding up and tries not to wretch at the color. “Can’t you get out? It’s lunchtime, anyway. Leave me here to rot.”
Jeonghan pulls down his sleeve to look at his watch. “Actually, you have two more minutes until lunch. Which means you need to look at my spreadsheet.” His voice is more serious as he goes on, “look at the spreadsheet, Hong Jisoo.”
“That is not my name.”
“Spreadsheet.”
“Harassment in the workplace.”
“Uh oh,” Seungkwan laments as he pops his head in behind Jeonghan. “Please don’t harass each other anymore. There’s only so much I can let slide.”
“Narc.”
Seungkwan ignores him. “Shua hyung, rough night?”
Joshua looks at him solemnly. “I threw up in both Channie and Seokmin’s cubicles this morning,” he says in explanation.
Seungkwan holds a hand over his heart sympathetically and frowns. “If it makes you feel any better, Soonyoungie has been curled up in the fetal position under Junnie’s desk all day. Even Seungcheol hyung called out!”
“Are we sure Soonyoung is under Jun’s desk for the purposes of being too hungover only?” Wonwoo asks. “And not for any ulterior reasons that have to do with being in proximity to Jun’s crotch?”
Seungkwan blinks. “Corporate isn’t paying me enough for this.”
“Would looking at my rainbow-colored spreadsheet make you feel better?” Jeonghan offers, flashing his laptop in Seungkwan’s direction.
“Please put that away.”
“No fun,” Jeonghan mumbles, closing the laptop. “I’ll see you after lunch then, Shua. Do not avoid me. I am inevitable.”
“I hope that’s a threat,” Joshua says with a wave of his hand, closing his eyes as Jeonghan steps out.
“C’mon, hyung,” Wonwoo stands now, nudging at Joshua’s foot. “Let’s get you a burger. And a Gatorade.”
“Could you just put me down instead?” Joshua asks, rising slowly. “Like an old, sickly dog.”
“Morbid.”
“Hansol-ah?” Wonwoo looks at him. “Coming?”
“I guess I could—”
“Actually,’ Seungkwan interrupts deftly, “I was gonna ask you if you wanted to grab a coffee, Hansol-ssi.”
He smiles, tight-lipped and nervous, tucking his hands behind him, glancing at Wonwoo and Joshua who are frozen in place, much like Hansol finds himself. Seungkwan is asking Hansol for coffee—asking him to do something just the two of them—and Hansol feels like he must be dreaming. This is probably the best day of his miserable IT career.
“Oh,” Hansol says, eyes wide. “Oh, yeah, I—that sounds nice. Cool.”
“Cool,” Seungkwan says with a smile like he’s relieved or something as if Hansol would say no to him ever. “You wanna…?”
“Yeah!” Hansol cringes at the eagerness in his voice. “I mean—yeah. We can go. Now? If you want.”
“Great,” Seungkwan says, “I know a place.”
“Enjoy,” Joshua says, and Hansol kind of forgot they were there for a second, and now feels extremely stupid for acting this way all because of a boy. Whatever. Joshua spends eighty percent of his day thinking about Yoon Jeonghan, so it’s even. “If they have an IV there, could you please bring it back for me?”
“Sure, hyung.” Seungkwan laughs. “Anything for you.”
Coffee with Seungkwan; Hansol can do it.
* * *
Coffee with Seungkwan, as it turns out, Hansol cannot do.
He hasn’t felt this nervous around a guy in a while—no, ever—because Seungkwan is handsome and funny and outrageously clever. He’s smart and has such a nice outlook on the world, such a healthy one, too, which Hansol knows must mean he’s growing up, because why is Seungkwan talking about the skills necessary to succeed in the workplace making him hard right now?
(And Hansol is like, kidding about that last part. Kind of.)
“—in the end, I realized that’s what I wanted all along,” Seungkwan concludes, telling Hansol the story of how he ended up with them, rather than the bigger job, at the bigger company, in the bigger building further uptown.
Hansol listened because he was interested. Hansol listened because he likes Seungkwan.
“It’s good you were able to figure that out before you got in too deep,” Hansol commends him, taking a sip of his iced coffee.
He’s glad that Seungkwan suggested they go for a walk around the neighborhood to ‘stretch their legs’ after they ordered because otherwise, Hansol would’ve spent the entirety of lunch looking at Seungkwan’s lips wrap around the straw in his cup, and that would’ve been terrible for every party involved.
“Oh, sure,” Seungkwan agrees easily. “I’m much more content now. Content is good.”
“Content is great,” Hansol says. “Content is what I strive for.”
Seungkwan laughs a little. “Are you content then, Hansol-ssi? IT and all that.”
“Is this you being a nosey HR consultant again?”
Seungkwan gently nudges his shoulder and rolls his eyes, not saying anything else. Hansol snorts out a laugh.
“I’m joking.”
“You’re funny.”
“Thanks,” Hansol says, although he knows it's sarcasm. “I am content, though. Life is pretty good. Even if I am on the IT team for a company that has Seokmin, who thinks IT means I will proofread all his emails before he sends them.”
That makes Seungkwan genuinely laugh then, wiping at the tiny tear in his eye as he asks, “and do you read them?”
“I mean,” Hansol says, “what am I gonna do, say no?”
“Very sweet of you, Hansol-ssi,” Seungkwan says, taking another long sip of his coffee, cheeks hollowed just the slightest bit. He’s annoyingly gorgeous.
“You know,” Seungkwan starts again once Hansol realizes he’s said nothing, instead just—staring at him, “I hope this doesn’t sound weird. But I’ve wanted to get to know you more for a bit now.”
Hansol pretends that the news is totally cool and normal and not making his heart race.
“Really?” he manages, casually, obviously.
Seungkwan nods, looking at him for the slightest second, and then straight ahead again. “I feel like I know everyone else but you. For a while, I thought maybe you were avoiding me.”
I was, because I was terrified I would embarrass myself in front of you. After all, I think you’re the hottest guy I’ve ever seen, and you have about a million other qualities that I like that I can’t even begin to name because then I will have to lobotomize myself.
“Really?” Hansol says again instead of the endless monologue inside his head that he wants to say. He laughs to make it convincing. “I wasn’t avoiding you. I’m just—IT.”
“IT,” Seungkwan repeats, laughing a little like he’s endeared or something. “I know that now. I guess that’s embarrassing of me to admit, then. I hope you don’t think I’m like—an obsessive freak. We’re… coworkers.”
“Oh, god, no!” Hansol assures him, maybe too quickly, but if Seungkwan is putting everything out on the table right now, maybe Hansol should, too. “I wanted to get to know you, too. You’re very—nice.”
Very nice is definitely one way to refer to the coworker you have a disgusting crush on.
“I think you’re very nice, too, Hansol-ssi.” Seungkwan looks at him a little more closely now and Hansol dares to look back, which is kind of a mistake because Seungkwan’s eyes are pretty in this light, and Hansol hates how badly he feels like he’s in a young adult romance novel right now.
He looks away, quickly, and embarrassed, and hopes Seungkwan doesn’t notice. When he takes another sip of his coffee, casually, Hansol guesses he’s in the clear.
“You’re easy to talk to,” Seungkwan goes on to share. “I like it.”
“You should talk to me more then,” Hansol says, and then silently panics because fuck, was that too forward? “I mean—”
“Cute,” Seungkwan mumbles and Hansol kind of wants to die but doesn’t get the chance, not when Seungkwan is speaking again, demanding all of Hansol’s attention, which he gladly gives up anyway. “We should do this again, too.”
“Yeah,” Hansol agrees instantly. He doesn’t feel embarrassed anymore; he very much likes Seungkwan.
They don’t even have to be romantic, Hansol would be happy with even just a friendship. Maybe if he hangs out with Seungkwan more, he’ll get less weird and infatuated. Like exposure therapy, or something. Except the exposure is to Boo Seungkwan, who is still a very pretty boy.
(Ok, maybe that wouldn't work, but still.)
“We should—” Hansol takes a sip of his coffee as if to collect himself. Then, somehow, he manages, “same time Monday?”
Seungkwan smiles. “I’d love that.”
* * *
Hansol has a very normal and boring weekend.
He does nothing Friday night (just as god intended), sleeps in late Saturday, does some laundry, grabs dinner with his sister and her boyfriend that night, and then spends the majority of Sunday thinking of Boo Seungkwan, or at least pretending not to, but it’s hard when he sees Chan for breakfast and gets teased relentlessly for his crush on him the entire time.
“You need to make a move,” Chan had insisted over a waffle packed with powdered sugar. “I have an impeccable sense of picking up on vibes. And your vibes—match.”
Hansol didn’t ask what that meant. He did think about it, though.
A normal and boring weekend indeed.
Which—is a contrast compared to the office this morning.
“Who the fuck ransacked your desk?” Jihoon asks as he walks by the IT department coming back from the breakroom, scalding hot coffee in hand. He peeks his head inside Hansol’s cubicle where his desk is, admittedly, a bit of an eyesore, one that Hansol knows for a fact he did not leave on Friday.
His meticulously stacked pile of papers is spread out across the whole thing, the cup of pens he has is out of place, and his slinky, his precious slinky, is on the floor, lying lifeless next to where his chair is askew, instead of neatly tucked under the mahogany of his desk.
He bends down to retrieve the slinky and shrugs. “I have no idea. Should I tell Seungcheol hyung? Maybe I pissed off the maintenance people.”
“Maybe we were robbed,” Seokmin materializes out of nowhere to say. Minghao is next to him, eyes assessing the situation like it’s a crime scene. “Wonu hyung, did they take the Nintendo switch you’re hiding in your desk?”
Hansol hears Wonwoo’s desk drawers open and close.
“No,” he says. Then, “Seokmin-ah, it’s hidden for a reason, by the way.”
Seokmin giggles. “Mysterious.”
“Not as mysterious as all this,” Minghao points out. “Y’know, it could be the maintenance guys. Didn’t you email them like—fourteen times to fix the vending machine?”
“Shua hyung kept complaining about his seaweed chips,” Hansol explains helplessly. “I didn’t think I would be retaliated against.”
“Is that—” Jihoon starts, then stops, mouth twisting into an unpleasant frown. Wonwoo pokes his head over the cubicle wall, more eyes on the scene. “That looks like Jeonghannie hyung’s pocket protector.”
“Oh, god,” Seokmin whispers, “they got hyungie, too.”
“No, they didn’t,” Minghao says. “He’s in his cubicle. You spoke with him this morning, Seokmin-ah.”
“Oh.” Seokmin looks nonplused. “Then they got his—”
“Ew.” Soonyoung is now emerging, because Hansol’s office is just so conveniently located, and the breakroom is just the real spot to be in the morning, and now Hansol is paying for it. “It smells like sex.” Soonyoung laughs a little, nudging Junhui who is, of course, right behind him. “Babe, doesn’t it smell like sex?”
“It does,” Junhui agrees without much thought. “Nasty sex. Chwe Hansol, did you—”
“No, you sick freaks,” he stops Junhui before he can even get started. “The better question would be did you—”
“We did not,” Soonyoung denies. “We would never.”
“We are celibate.”
“Ok, Junnie, let’s not get crazy,” Soonyoung pats his chest half-heartedly. “I meant we would never fuck on your desk. That’s just—animalistic.”
“Yeah,” Junhui agrees again. “I mean, you’d have to be desperate to—”
“Oh, good, literally all of you are here in Hansollie’s cubicle.”
Seungkwan appears then, looking out of breath and a bit frazzled, bangs a bit windswept, and expression somewhat anxious. He’s still cute. Hansol wishes everyone else would disappear so it could just be him and Seungkwan.
“Channie isn’t,” Wonwoo points out for no reason. “Should we call him? Jihoon-ah, let’s call him.”
“Why would I do that, Jeon Wonwoo?”
“Tough cubicle.”
“Oh, this place is a fucking mess,” Seungkwan mumbles as he looks around, papers and pen holder still out of place, except for the slinky, which Hansol still clings to.
“Are you using 'fucking' in the literal sense?” Minghao asks.
“Soonyoung and Jun hyung think it smells like sex,” Seokmin provides for context.
“And for once,” Soonyoung says, “it was not us.”
“Thank you for that reassurance.” Seungkwan shakes his head, apologetically looking at Hansol. “Hansol-ssi, would you mind, uh—coming with me for a second?”
“Sure,” Hansol agrees because he would not disagree with Seungkwan ever. “Can I…?”
He gestures around the cubicle and Seungkwan shakes his head. “I don’t think you should.”
“That’s—ominous,” Jihoon notes.
Seungkwan looks at him regretfully and then goes back to Hansol. “Ready?”
Hansol nods, not giving much else thought as he slips out of the cubicle, still holding that stupid slinky. Like it’s some sort of comfort object or something.
“Are they gonna fuck?” he can hear Junhui mumble as they turn away from IT. Hansol wishes he could go back to defend himself.
“Have a good weekend, Hansol-ssi?” Seungkwan is talking to him now, making cordial conversation as they head to the opposite end of the office. Seungcheol’s, it looks like.
“Yeah, it was decent,” Hansol says with a nod. “I was content.”
“Content,” Seungkwan repeats with a laugh, remembering the conversation from the other day. “That’s good. Hold onto that feeling. Keep it close to you.”
“Alright,” Hansol says warily. Then, like it’s suddenly dawned on him. “Am I being fired?”
“Oh, god, no,” Seungkwan assures him. They round the corner to where Seungcheol’s office is, the door slightly ajar. “Although, quitting, well—”
Hansol doesn’t get to ask what he means by that. Seungkwan leads him into Seungcheol’s office, and Hansol hardly gets to enjoy the view of Seungkwan from behind because suddenly he’s faced with—everyone else, well, everyone else but Chan, who is still MIA apparently.
“Hi?” Hansol greets the room—Seungcheol behind his desk, Mingyu propped on the corner of it and Jeonghan and Joshua sitting in front of them, looking... normal. Not high-strung and like they have concealed weapons ready to use on each other at any given moment. For once.
“Hi, Hansol-ah.” Mingyu smiles at him, always a bit too bright, but especially now compared to the strangely heavy atmosphere of Seungcheol’s office. “Have a good weekend?”
“Hansollie went to barbeque with his sister,” Jeonghan offers. “I saw it on Instagram.”
“How’d the meat look?” Joshua asks Jeonghan, which is a supremely odd thing to question.
Jeonghan’s eyes narrow, but not in the evil sort of way they usually do, but instead in the way that like, Soonyoung’s do when Junhui undoes the top button of his collared shirt on casual Friday. It’s a supremely odd reaction.
“Satisfying,” he says and it feels dirty.
“Ok, you two are on very thin ice,” Seungcheol butts in, snapping a finger in Jeonghan and Joshua’s direction. They hold eye contact with each other for a second longer before breaking to look at Seungcheol, bored. Seungcheol straightens up.
“Hansol-ssi, something… not that chill happened this weekend.”
Hansol looks around the room, trying to gauge if he should be laughing or not. Mingyu is still smiling at him. Seungkwan looks at his feet. Hansol doesn’t even bother looking at Jeonghan and Joshua because he’s sure he won’t get a good reaction from them.
“Ok,” Hansol says slowly. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Uh—” Seungcheol coughs. “Mingyu-yah, take it away.”
Mingyu mumbles something under his breath, looking momentarily defeated before he sits up, inhaling a breath and then exhaling. He smiles again.
“You see, Hansol-ah,” he begins, “when two men have a very long-standing hatred for no reason, tensions typically rise. It becomes like a taut rubber band.”
He holds a rubber band up in front of his face like Hansol doesn’t know what that is.
“And eventually, the rubber band might snap. Hard.” Mingyu laughs a little, pulling at the rubber band. “No pun intended, really, but—”
“Oh, god, this is painful,” Seungkwan interrupts. Mingyu lets go of the rubber band and it goes flying over Joshua’s shoulder, who doesn’t flinch. “Hansol-ah, Jeonghan and Joshua—fornicated on your desk on Friday.”
“'Fornicated' is most definitely not the word for it.”
“Handjobs at most,” Jeonghan adds like that makes any of this better.
“And one blowjob,” Joshua points out. Then he looks at Jeonghan. “Maybe it was a half. You finished too quickly.”
Jeonghan rolls his eyes. “You were finally proving that your mouth was good for things other than just telling me off.”
“Was that a compliment?” Mingyu asks. “It didn't sound like a compliment coming from you.”
Jeonghan shrugs. He’s still not looking away from Joshua. “I don’t know,” he says plainly.
“You guys—?” Hansol pulls a face of disgust, groaning. “Why, how, when, why?!”
“It’s not something I am proud of, Hansol-ah,” Joshua says desperately. “Please know this.”
“Since Shua was suffering from his violent hangover Friday morning we agreed to stay late to get some actual work done,” Jeonghan explains, all very normally and casually. “Work that did not involve my brightly colored spreadsheet, might I add.”
“Things escalated," Joshua continues vaguely. "We tried making it to the bathroom. Or at least the breakroom.”
“We eat there!” Seungcheol frowns.
Jeonghan ignores him. “And then it just—happened.”
“Much to our chagrin, because I’m supposed to file an HR report and can’t without details.”
“You do not need to know who is going to bottom in future situations for HR purposes, Kim Mingyu,” Joshua tells him. “That is just you being nosey.”
Jeonghan leans forward, stage whispering to Mingyu, “it’s Shua, anyway.”
“We are at work!”
“Ok,” Hansol says, collecting himself, shaking his head as he looks down at the slinky in his hands. The poor slinky. It’s seen so much. “Honestly, I don’t want to know anymore. Can one of you just clean my desk? I don’t want to risk touching any—fluids.”
“We’re not amateurs,” Joshua says with a scoff. “There’s no fluids left.”
“I don’t want to know what that means,” Seungkwan says solemnly.
“Here’s what happens next,” Seungcheol says, stepping back in, arms crossed against his chest. He’s trying to look authoritative, but Jeonghan and Joshua still don’t care. “You two will clean Hansollie’s cubicle. Mingyu will chaperone. You will file an HR report about—the nature of your relationship, and then we will never talk about this again so I don’t have to fire anyone involved.”
“Fine,” Joshua agrees at the same time Jeonghan whines, “chaperone?”
And Mingyu looks very pleased about it, turning around to scoop up a clipboard, tapping it enthusiastically. “Paperwork first, please. Hansollie’s office can wait.”
“Can it?”
“Sure,” Mingyu says easily. “Hang out with Seungkwan-ah until it’s reorganized and disinfected.”
“But I have stuff to—”
“It’ll only be a little, Hansol-ah,” Seungkwan says, gently, giving him a small smile from where he’s still stuck against the far wall. “I don’t bite.”
“What he said.” Seungcheol sits down with a huff. “Now everybody get out of my office.”
They do, but not without Mingyu forcibly wedging himself between Jeonghan and Joshua, who both make a complaint solely because Mingyu is big and clumsy, and all this is unnecessary. Hansol doesn’t think it’s unnecessary. Hansol’s desk has just been—violated.
“Probably not the Monday morning you were expecting,” Seungkwan says, somewhat awkwardly, as they make the slow walk to his cubicle, opposite the other three. He gives Hansol a timid smile. It’s not the best scenario to be falling for Boo Seungkwan, but Hansol still thinks he’s so cute.
“I can’t say it was,” Hansol admits, huffing out a breath. “I’ll be honest, I feel personally betrayed by Josh hyung. I have had to listen to him complain about Jeonghannie hyung since I started here.”
“Maybe they’ll be more tolerable to work with,” Seungkwan offers helplessly, turning into his cubicle, which Hansol follows.
“Unlikely,” he says to his slinky. He takes a seat in one of the chairs Seungkwan has there.
“We can all dream!” Seungkwan says, highly too optimistic, and then he spins around his chair, holding a clipboard identical to the one Mingyu previously had. “My turn for questions.”
“Questions?” Hansol slumps further into his chair. “Can’t I be left out of it? I wasn’t even there. I’m not even a part of the crime scene. Sex scene? I am literally just an accomplice. If that!”
“It’s not—” Seungkwan stops himself, cheeks reddening just a bit. Hansol wants to ask what’s so embarrassing about HR work, or if he was feeling really brave, call Seungkwan cute for it, but he doesn’t get a chance, Seungkwan speaking again. “It’s quick. Just—something for me. And… my files.”
“Corporate is a bitch,” Hansol concludes. “Shoot.”
“For one,” Seungkwan starts reading off the clipboard, “will you be privately going out of your way to file something with us or any higher-ups?”
Hansol scoffs. “Honestly, no. It was—borderline barbaric, sure, but they’re my friends. And truthfully, I don’t care about this job that much.”
Seungkwan stifles a laugh. “Noted. So you don’t have any strong feelings of disinterest towards your coworkers and the new… essence of their relationship?”
“Can’t say I do.”
“Great.” Seungkwan flips a page. “So if another relationship were to evolve in the office—let’s say, I don’t know—I asked you to get dinner with me later this week, would you have strong feelings of disinterest about that?”
Hansol feels his palms go sweaty and his eyes go comically big.
“Uh,” he says eloquently. “Are you—”
“It’s a yes or no, Hansol-ssi,” Seungkwan says with a shrug. He crosses his ankles and fidgets in his seat a little. Tries not to smile.
“No, then.” Hansol straightens up, sounding very sure of himself. “No feelings of disinterest. In fact, it’d be a lot of interest.”
“Oh.” Seungkwan looks mildly surprised. “Really?”
“Wasn’t this just a yes or no question?”
Seungkwan groans a little, and now Hansol doesn’t have it in him to hide how cute he finds him. He thinks he probably looks disgustingly endeared, but like, he can’t help it. Seungkwan is perfect.
“So then a yes?”
“Is it a hypothetical still, Seungkwan-ssi?” Hansol tilts his head, pretending his heart isn’t pounding so hard it’s about to jump out of his chest. Oh, god, he’s embarrassing. “Is this still for your paperwork?”
Seungkwan clicks his tongue, tossing the clipboard to the side. “Go out with me, Chwe Hansol. Let me buy you dinner.”
“Isn’t that an HR violation?”
“I think this office is far past the point of HR violations.”
“Fair point.” Hansol leans forward in his seat a little, still clutching the slinky like it really is his comfort object right now. He’s scared that if he lets go he’ll do something embarrassing like try to brush the soft-looking bangs from Seungkwan’s eyes, or—
“You don’t have to say yes,” Seungkwan says no, sheepishly. “I just think you’re… nice.”
“I already said yes,” Hansol says, unabashed. “Do you want me to say it again? Do you want me to ask you? I think you’re nice, too, you’re—Seungkwan.”
“I am Seungkwan.” He bites his bottom lip, still a smile dancing across his lips. “Good, then. Tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow,” Hansol confirms, an over-enthusiastic nod to follow. “Any day. You tell me.”
“Tomorrow, then,” Seungkwan says with a laugh, turning around in his chair. “Now get out of here, Chwe Hansol.”
Hansol stands abruptly like he wants to show Seungkwan he really is good at listening or—fuck not like that—turning to the doorway, one half of the slinky falling down and nearly tripping him in the process.
“I’ll see you when you get to your cubicle,” Seungkwan calls over his shoulder, cheeky.
The color drains from Hansol’s face and he tries not to sound like a total, creepy loser as he says, “you mean you—”
“I’m HR, Hansollie,” Seungkwan says. “I see everything.”
* * *
To: All
From: Choi Seungcheol
Subject: Workshop Friday - MANDATORY (I am talking to you, Chan)
[See attachment]
Since the latest spike in workplace relationships (yay Hansollie and Seungkwan! Jeonghan and Shua, we’re still confused by your dynamic), corporate is sending someone to facilitate a workshop we all have to take to deem the appropriate vs. inappropriate. I attached the powerpoint they sent me if anyone cares.
Soonyoung and Junhwi please be on your best behavior.
And if anyone sees Kim Mingyu pouting because he’s not the one who gets to do this, let's all cheer him up.
Please be there.
(Donuts will be provided.)
Kind regards,
Choi Seungcheol
Office Manager