Work Text:
Attorney Zhang Hao’s usual mornings go something like this:
Once he steps into the company building, he’s greeted with a series of morning greetings and hellos, just because he’s that respected. He’ll make his way to his office and feign surprise when his intern, Shen Quanrui (also and more commonly known as Ricky), leaves a cup of coffee on his desk. He’s pulled into little conversations prompted by acquaintances and old friends alike. Simply, Hao actually begins his attorney work about an hour after he arrives.
It’s lovely, really, that today has been unfolding as planned. Ricky made him a cappuccino this time, so it’ll be a better day today. Not just that, but his former mentor, Wen Junhui, sat on his desk for about twenty minutes and they had a nice chat regarding really anything unrelated to work.
Hao leans back in his chair and takes a sip of his cappuccino. Mmm, French vanilla.
He’s about to hop onto the forums and check out reviews on his performance when suddenly, there’s a knock at the door. “Come in,” Hao replies cheerfully, then his smile drops upon seeing who the visitor was.
Kim Gyuvin.
He’s cute. Hao knows this because he has eyes, and he knows this from Ricky. He’s competent with his work — rather adept at networking, based on the rumors Hao’s heard — and is an absolute joy in the workplace, a lovely presence to be around when you need one. The problem regarding Kim Gyuvin is that he’s the current intern of—
“Attorney Sung Hanbin wants me to tell you that you’re working on the next case with him,” Gyuvin mumbles, shifting in place a little. He clears his throat. “Uh, he would also like to gently remind you to please be on time to the meeting with the senior attorney today. Stress on gently.”
The cappuccino mug is forcefully placed back onto his desk. Hao takes a sharp inhale, and exhales slowly through his nostrils, folding his hands in front of him.
“Ah, Gyuvin-ah. Please tell your Attorney Sung that I’m a ball of sunshine,” tell him that he needs to go jump into a pit, “and that I’m always on time,” and that he needs to be prepared for a fight to the death.
Hao is so caught up in his resentment that he doesn’t notice Gyuvin gritting his teeth into a smile of sorts. “I will relay your message to him immediately, Attorney Zhang.” Then, without another word, he leaves.
Ricky always talks about that boy like he’s a dreamboat. Huh.
Anyway, Hao shrugs off the recent interaction he’d just indirectly had with his archnemesis (through some twisted logic, Gyuvin is Hanbin’s replacement right now) and finishes his coffee. The law forums are particularly active, reviews on their firm as a whole and lots of positive reviews on Hao individually popping up often. He smiles into the empty mug, then lets out a small sigh upon seeing a notification for his upcoming meeting with He Who Will Not Be Named and their senior attorney, Kim Jiwoong.
“I might as well get going now,” Hao reluctantly tells himself. He may be stubborn, but even he knows that it’s inevitable he’ll get distracted on the way to the meeting.
Empty mug forgotten on his desk, his door shuts and off he goes. It’s a pain to walk to these meetings solely because most of the time, it’s a waste of time as he already knows what’s going on with the cases; on the other hand, he does enjoy little strolls around the building. He’s able to gossip to some of the other attorneys, and the interns end up giving him treats out of respect.
This time, lovely Shen Xiaoting’s intern gives him a piece of chewy sour candy, so Hao keeps his mouth busy as he finally makes it to the elevator and presses the ‘up’ button with an unnecessary amount of force.
The doors open. Hao blatantly ignores whoever’s inside and steps in next to them.
Sung Hanbin smells like sandalwood today. Not that Hao’s keeping track, or anything, but he likes to exchange his colognes every so often to mix it up. Last week it was citrus, the week prior some sort of vanilla infusion. This is purely out of observation, because the last thing Hao would do is keep track on purpose. Out of sheer will.
“Hi,” Hanbin says to the elevator without turning his head, but it’s obviously directed to Hao.
“Hey.”
“So,” starts Hanbin. Hao did not ask for a conversation to be started in the minimal time they would be in the elevator. The younger attorney is shifting his body in Hao’s direction just the slightest bit, enough for his attention to be asked for but not enough for Hanbin to be entirely occupied with his presence. “Are we going to have problems today, Attorney Zhang?”
Then he pulls what Hao likes to call a below-the-belt attack, and crosses his arms.
A debriefing: all archnemesis relations aside, Attorney Sung Hanbin is… attractive. (Probably the hottest guy in the office, but you didn’t hear that from Hao.) He’s got perfect lips and clear skin and the shiniest eyes in all of the continent. He puts himself together very intricately to the point where you wonder if every interaction with him was planned.
Attorney Sung also goes to the gym every weekday morning before work and flashes his collarbone tattoo as well as his inner arm tattoo to whoever is willing, which means everyone . No, Hao doesn’t know this from snooping around or whatever, he has… an insider’s perspective, if you will, thank you very much.
The moral of the story is that Hanbin is toned. Built.
Today, Hao had forgotten that Hanbin was wearing a button down and a tie with no suit jacket over the attire. So when he crosses his arms, the cloth stretches and flexes over his muscles and chest and biceps and oh. Fuck this guy, seriously. Certainly there’s some sort of special purgatory for men that Hao is very clearly attracted to but cannot verbally express his attraction for (in the workplace) because they’re supposed to be sworn rivals (in the workplace).
Hao clears his throat and looks away. The last time Hanbin caught him eyeing him up, he didn’t hear the end of it for a while. “What makes you think that I decide these things, Attorney Sung?”
Hanbin scoffs just as the elevator doors open. “You’ve got some nerve.”
The entire floor hears them arguing on the way to the senior attorney. It’s somewhat of a norm, really. “ One time I forgot to write something down. You’re still coming for me?” Hao grumbles, running a hand through his hair. They turn the corner, seemingly unaware of all the tired eyes on them.
Hanbin clicks his tongue and paces a little faster to keep up with him. “It’s been more than one time, and you know this,” he shoots back, but somehow manages to simultaneously open the doors to the senior attorney’s office and allow Hao to walk in first. How chivalrous of him.
Kim Jiwoong takes one look at them from his desk and massages the bridge of his nose. “Have some decorum, you two. Please.”
Firmly planting his hands on the surface, Hao narrows his eyes, “ He started it first.”
“I was asking a question,” Hanbin jumps to correct him, “I literally just asked if we’d have problems today, Haoha— Attorney Zhang!”
It is not the first time Jiwoong has had to witness one of their arguments. Until retirement, it will definitely not be the last.
“Before we start our discussion regarding the clients, I’d like one of you — do not start arguing over who it will be — to go downstairs, visit Seok Matthew-yah, and ask him to bring me an Americano with two extra shots of espresso,” sighs Jiwoong. He’s leaning back in his chair, rubbing his forehead, and seemingly trying to create as much distance between himself and the pair as possible. “Seriously, you people stress me out. How do you not create an annoyance for whoever you’re living with?”
It takes all of Hao’s patience to not share a look with Sung Hanbin, standing right next to him.
(The meeting goes swimmingly. Senior Attorney Kim Jiwoong ends up having two Americanos on his desk shortly after it ends, delivered by an apologetic-looking Matthew.)
Zhang Hao’s evenings after work are slightly less organized and more unexpected than his mornings, but he’s grown to work with them.
Today, he turns the dishwasher on because he knows his roommate forgot to do it before leaving for work, and gets the coffee machine going. He’ll go through the mail that was left for them — since when did he subscribe to a magazine about cats — and make a note to buy more ice cream. They’re out of their usual stash.
Then, he walks to his (their?) bedroom, standing in front of the full-length mirror to undo his tie and wipe off the makeup he’d applied that very morning. He’s an attorney and he supposes no one cares that much at the office, but there’s a reason why Hao is one of more popular bachelors amongst the men.
(Or so people assume he is.)
There’s some commotion: the sound of the door opening, keys being left on the counter, and the espresso machine being stopped. Hao scoffs to himself, surprised his roommate is back so early, but he can’t help his reflection in the mirror, and the smile he tries his best to bite back.
He closes his eyes in an attempt to regain his neutral expression— before he knows it, two arms are reaching around his shoulders and undoing the buttons on his shirt for him.
Again, fuck this guy, seriously.
“Not even a hello?” Hao quietly teases, opening his eyes and smiling at the view.
“This is my hello.” Hanbin’s pouting, his cheeks puffed up in a way that’s supposed to make him look angry but instead makes him look rather endearing. He finishes unbuttoning the entire shirt, then hooks his chin over Hao’s shoulder and moves his arms around his waist. “Good evening.”
Hanbin’s hands briefly slip under the shirt to skim the exposed skin, his eyes rather occupied watching the movements in the mirror. It’s reminiscent of… well, things that have happened in the past few nights or so. Incredulously, Hao scoffs. Unbelievable. “Whatever.”
“Are you upset with me? Why? I didn't do anything wrong!” Hanbin whines, yet no amount of talking stops his fingers from traveling the planes of Hao’s body.
Hao swats him on the wrist weakly. “You saw me, like, one time today, and now you expect to be able to touch me like this.”
“Well, hyung is the one who started acting all mad when I tried talking to him,” a poke at Hao’s side, “and besides, you’ll still let me, anyway.”
“Because we’re— stop that, Hanbinnie.” This time, he actually has to pry Hanbin’s wandering hands off of his skin. Not that it was uncomfortable or anything, but it’s hard to talk to a guy when he’s busy trying to proposition you. They’ve got time for that later. “Aren’t we pretending to be rivals so that it confuses everyone else?”
“Yeah. It’s funny.” Hanbin separates himself from Hao’s back and starts undoing his own tie, squinting at himself in the mirror.
“So why exactly is it a problem if I’m faking anger when we’re supposed to be rivals?”
“We were alone, and I wanted to give you a good morning kiss since you left the apartment before me. Then you started testing my patience with that ‘I’m not the one who makes those decisions’ thing,” explains Hanbin while tossing his tie to the side. His eyes flit over to Hao, and suddenly, he’s wearing a mischievous smile. “Also, you need to start checking me out more subtly, Attorney Zhang.”
“So even if I annoy you, I’m not allowed to admire the view?” he argues, but still pulls in Hanbin by the back of his neck, “You owe me that kiss, come here.”
Hanbin’s muscles are firm under his hold; Hao moves his hands constantly, from his forearms to his biceps to his back. It seems something like a reward after being able to stay away from him so long during work. Hanbin is clearly intent on unraveling him from the ground up, kissing away the worry between his eyebrows and the corners of his lips. Any thoughts of properly getting undressed are promptly shoved to the side, with Hanbin leaving his shirt half-unbuttoned and Hao’s own shirt falling off of his shoulders.
Hanbin is hardly ever this desperate: work wears down his composure so much that he needs some time to himself before proceeding to do anything of that sort. Anyone who knows the way he kisses would notice an underlying problem, and Hao would be damned as an attorney to not point it out.
“Are you worried that my attitude towards you at work seems genuine?” he mumbles against Hanbin’s lips, pulling him closer to inhale the ghost of his sandalwood cologne.
As expected, Hanbin pauses his eager advances, and instead buries his face in Hao’s shoulder. “Hm… no,” he breathes, “I’ve admired you since law school, remember? That won’t change. Especially not now, when we’ve both achieved our dreams and I have you, hyung.”
Something’s missing.
“But?” Hao urges him.
The way Hanbin starts to laugh tickles his shoulder; Hao feels the overwhelming need to keep him there, all to himself. “I do miss you sometimes. I know there’s the big taboo surrounding relationships at work, but— is it so wrong to want to kiss a guy, sometimes? Maybe not sometimes, actually. All the time. And you’re so sought after with some of our coworkers, it’s…” He’s pouting. It doesn’t take much for Hao to deduce this, but it swells his heart knowing that Hanbin feels so strongly.
“You said it before, Hanbinnie.” Hao’s fingers dig into his muscles, massaging the knots, smiling to himself when he hears Hanbin let out small sighs of relief. “You have me here. You know I don’t have eyes for anyone other than you.” A particular push at Hanbin’s shoulder has the younger’s hands gripping his waist tighter, breaths getting shorter and staggered. “I live with you because I like you too much. To the point where I ignore the fact that you always forget to run the dishwasher before we commute.”
“Hey,” Hanbin softly protests, his limbs jelly in Hao’s arms. He’s undeniably less tense now— Hao gives himself a pat on the back.
“Hey yourself.”
A beat of silence, and then: “Do you have evidence to back that up, Attorney Zhang?”
“Do I—” The question throws him off so much that he both physically and mentally freezes. “Hanbin-ah, are you serious? Evidence for what?”
“To back up the fact that you like me so much!” It’s ridiculous. They both know it as soon as it leaves Hanbin’s lips. “You know, you can prove it to me with your— Hyung, stop laughing!”
“With my what? You’re so cheesy, you know?” Hao only barely manages to get it out between breathy laughs. “Are you really going to ask me out loud? Is this one of the problems that you referenced while we were in the elevator, Attorney Sung?”
He could go on and on, jabbing at how mushy his partner had just sounded, but Hanbin intervenes with a sudden, determined press of his lips to Hao’s. And, god, he’s a sucker for that man and Hanbin knows it, so Hao lets him push him down to his (their) bed, while slipping off what remains of his unbuttoned shirt.
(Their previous argument will have to continue another time. Case adjourned, for now.)