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Chapter Text

When Jihoon was a child and a certified school hater, his biggest enemy was the morning alarm. Not that anyone really likes them but he was a passionate opposer of any kind of alarm that existed on the planet. Traditional clocks, clock radios, phone alarms – it didn’t matter. He hated everything that interrupted his much needed rest after an exhausting battle with his SoloQ demons.

His mother, tired of being a human alarm clock herself (after at some point Jihoon became immune to all types of alarms), had suggested going to bed earlier. But that was an impossible solution. After all, Jihoon was going to become a pro gamer. Or so he had thought.

At twenty-five, Jihoon still hates alarms with all his guts. The only difference is that he wakes up at six in the morning not for school, but for work. His boring corporate job that involves a lot of suit-wearing and fake polite smiles and definitely no gaming. He likes to believe that in another universe he’s a successful pro player and not a corpo rat stuck in meetings all day.

It’s Monday and the alarm is ten times louder and a hundred times more aggravating than usual. It interrupts Jihoon’s oddly realistic dream about being on stage and lifting a trophy in front of a crowd that screams his name. Wangho, his university buddy, is there too, smiling at him when he kisses the cup. Then, a loud ringing pierces his ears and he comes back to reality. He isn’t a pro player and he definitely didn’t win the LCK. Not only that, but his team had also lost every single one of their Clash games the night before. He blames Wangho’s Shyvanna for that one.

“Fuck,” Jihoon grumbles, as he takes his arm outside of the warm comfort of his blankets to turn off the alarm. He reaches out blindly towards where his phone usually lies during the night, only to stretch it out in a weird way that sends a shock of pain to his shoulder.

“Fucking shit,” he groans again and presses firmly on the muscle to ease the pain. “I’m awake, can you shut the fuck up?”

The alarm keeps ringing and Jihoon finally opens his eyes.

A bowl of cereal later he’s out of the apartment. It’s early fall but the weather is already chilly while he waits at the bus stop. Gloves feel weird on his hands, so he resorts to blowing warm air at them to keep his fingers from freezing.

Luckily, the bus stops right outside of the office building, sparing him from long walks in the cold. Jihoon gets off the bus and checks the time only to find out he has seven minutes to get to the meeting room. Hurriedly, he walks over to the narrow door next to the revolving ones that have been out of order since last Thursday.

A loud bang gathers the attention of everyone around him, as his head slams against the glass. Jihoon stares at his reflection, contemplating turning around and never showing up to work again. His forehead starts throbbing and he slaps a hand over it to make it even worse.

“Jihoon-ssi?” A voice calls out behind him and the situation gets from ‘worse’ to ‘the worst’. “The revolving doors were fixed this weekend and the emergency one was locked again.”

Jihoon remembers to take his hand off his forehead before he turns around. A well-trained fake smile replaces the despair he had just seen in his reflection.

“Thanks for letting me know, Sanghyeok-ssi,” he says, struggling not to grumble through his teeth. “Shall we, then?”

He rushes to the revolving door first, refusing to allow his colleague to take another look at his face and what’s probably a bruise forming on his forehead. Disaster strikes again when the elevator doors open and there is no one inside, which makes no sense considering almost every single employee at Gen.1 starts at seven-thirty. This ridiculous anomaly means Jihoon is stuck in an elevator with his colleague for eighteen floors and with nothing better to do, his eyes keep involuntarily drifting back to him.

Sanghyeok’s back is as straight as a bowstring, as he stands quiet and unmoving in the opposite corner of the elevator. True to his routine, Jihoon tries to find at least one flaw in his colleague and is once again extremely upset when he ends up with none. Sanghyeok’s suit is ironed to perfection, his dress shoes are as shiny as ever, and even his leather briefcase, which he hasn’t changed since Jihoon first joined the company two years ago, is spotless.

Jihoon scoffs on the inside. Stupid Sanghyeok and his stupid flawlessness. The only thing that cheers Jihoon up when the inferiority complex strikes is the thought that his colleague’s perfect image at work probably means he’s extremely boring outside of it.

“Is something the matter?” Sanghyeok’s voice interrupts his petty monologue.

“Huh?” Jihoon answers dumbly, caught too off guard to find a better answer.

Sanghyeok turns to him and looks him in the eye. “I thought you meant to say something,” he replies calmly. “My apologies if I misunderstood.”

Despite the early hours, Jihoon still has enough active brain cells to realize that his scoff wasn’t so internal after all. Embarrassed, he looks away in search of a believable answer.

“I was just clearing my throat,” he mumbles. “The weather’s been getting colder these days.”

Sanghyeok seems satisfied with his bullshit answer, as he turns to the doors once more. “That’s true,” he replies. “So make sure to wear a scarf, Jihoon-ssi. That open-neck coat suits you well but it won’t protect your throat during the colder winter days.”

Jihoon stares at Sanghyeok’s reflection in the metal door, completely stunned and unable to figure out how to reply. The elevator dings and his colleague’s face disappears from his view, as the doors open.

“And take care of that forehead of yours,” Sanghyeok adds. “That collision with the glass door sounded quite painful.”

He steps out and leaves without sparing Jihoon another glance. Jihoon ends up being late to the meeting after the doors close while he’s too stunned to step out and the elevator is called back to the first floor.

Most kids develop unrealistic dreams when they are little. Being an astronaut who roams through the vast universe or a famous singer who sells out huge stadiums doesn’t seem that impossible when you’re a child. As a kid, Jihoon wasn’t interested in getting on a space station or singing. What he enjoyed most was turning on his computer after a long day at school and filling the room with the sounds of his mouse clicks. He had heard from his classmates that there were people who played games as a profession and he was certain of one thing – he would join them one day and be the best of the best.

Dreams are usually fun until you hit a certain age when rationality starts taking over the delusions. When he was sixteen, Jihoon realized he wasn’t going to become a pro player. Instead, he graduated high school, then university and then applied for his first job. His gaming skills might have been average but at least Gen.1 found enough potential in him to offer him a spot in the Marketing team. Even if working a nine-to-five isn’t Jihoon’s dream, he likes to believe that he will have the freedom to find his own way once the right time comes.

He still remembers how clammy his hands were on his first day, as his team leader at that time was almost pushing him to the meeting room, a firm hand on his shoulder. His suit was brand new and he had gone to bed late the previous night after a long battle with the iron. He had wished his team leader’s sweaty hand would stop messing up the fabric he’d spent so long smoothing out.

“Introductory meetings are mandatory for our new joiners,” Yang Dae-in had insisted, as he changed his tactic and started pulling Jihoon, instead of pushing him. “It’s important that you meet the people who you will be working with from now on.”

Jihoon knew that was true. However, hearing it from Yang Dae-in had pissed him off. Even the most objective truth sounded like complete bullshit when it came out of the team leader’s mouth.

The meeting room was already occupied by a couple of people, most of them seated next to or across each other at the table. They had all turned to Jihoon when the door opened but he hadn’t spared them a glance. Instead, his eyes had found a man, sitting on the other corner of the table. His posture had been perfect, his eyes closed as if he was asleep.

When it comes to Sanghyeok, Jihoon is used to feeling a rollercoaster of emotions. When he first joined the company, it was mostly awe. He was in awe because Sanghyeok was so smart, so calm and so professional. He was someone Jihoon wanted to be.

Now it’s jealousy. He is jealous because Sanghyeok is so smart, so calm and so professional. He is someone Jihoon will never be.

Chapter Text

Jihoon is staring blankly at the printer that continues spitting out completely blacked-out pages after he had clearly set them to be printed in color, when a hand lands on his shoulder.

“Are you trying to get money deducted from your salary for ink cartridges, or what?” Jihoon doesn’t need to turn around to know who the mocking voice belongs to.

“Not my fault the printer is fucked up,” he retorts, picking up the rest of the papers the machine spits out.

“It saw your grumpy face and wanted to print accordingly,” his colleague laughs. “Cheer up, it’s a wonderful Monday!”

Jihoon finally turns around to meet his gaze. “Just tell me what you want, Siwoo-hyung.”

“Since you decided to smash your head in the door and then miss half of the meeting, I have an important update to share,” Siwoo says, as they head down the hallway together. Jihoon decides to ignore the first part of the sentence for the sake of his own sanity.

“So?” He knows he won’t get an answer unless he asks directly. Part of Siwoo’s ‘buy one annoying quality, get one for free’ special package.

“The company has selected a couple of members from the Marketing team to go to a countrywide workshop in Gangneung next week. They want us to,” his colleague lifts his hands up in air quotes, “represent Gen.1 values, explore new opportunities and develop new skills that will help the company grow.”

To say Jihoon is unimpressed is an understatement.

“Do I have to go too?”

“Well, of course,” Siwoo grins. “I’m not sharing all this crap with you just so I can make you jealous that we’ll be taking a public express bus to Gangneung.”

“No company bus?” Jihoon’s eyebrows scrunch in confusion. Siwoo only nods in confirmation. “Better than working, I guess.”

They reach Siwoo’s desk and his colleague leaves a piece of candy on the paper stack Jihoon is carrying before sitting down.

Jihoon turns around to go to his own workspace when he hears Siwoo whisper behind him.

“Sanghyeok-hyung is coming too.”

A couple of seconds go by before Jihoon manages to squeeze out a strained “I didn’t ask.”

“Just saying,” he can practically hear the mocking smile on Siwoo’s face, as he heads to his desk in silence.

One of Jihoon’s first memories of Sanghyeok is of him sitting alone and reading a book while eating his lunch. He remembers it vividly because his colleague’s lonely figure was the total contrast of the shit that went down at the table Jihoon usually sat at. He had known Siwoo for less than a week, yet one thing was clear – he was the type of demon that was feared by silence itself.

After a couple of days of quiet observation, Jihoon couldn’t fight his curiosity anymore.

“Why does he always sit alone?” He interrupted Siwoo’s story about meeting Marketing Specialist Kim Giin in the restroom with a piece of toilet paper stuck on his shoe, which he, personally, had found extremely hilarious.

Siwoo followed Jihoon’s line of sight. “Sanghyeok-hyung?”

Jihoon only nodded in confirmation.

“He’s just like that,” Siwoo answered simply. “He probably needs his alone time after the boring meetings, don’t take it personally.”

“Does he even have friends in the company?” A rude question, but you can’t blame a man for being curious.

Siwoo laughed, as if this was not the first time he had heard the same words come out of someone’s mouth.

“He does, actually. Sanghyeok-hyung is close friends with four juniors in Product Management and HR,” he replied. “You might see them leave work together someday.”

It should’ve been nice to hear that his senior was not a social reject but actually had quite a lot of friends in the company. But for some reason, this answer was a new source of frustration for Jihoon. They had been colleagues for two weeks now, yet Sanghyeok hadn’t spoken to him a single time except for the usual ‘good morning’s and ‘you’ve worked hard today’s.

Jihoon couldn’t help but wonder what exactly made him so different from those four juniors.

Reading is still Sanghyeok’s hobby and that’s exactly what he does throughout their whole trip to Gangneung. Jihoon knows that because life is his biggest hater and he gets handed a ticket at the bus terminal with a big bold number that is exactly Sanghyeok’s plus one.

He puts on his headphones the moment he sits down and tries to sleep to kill time. His eyes however disobey him and keep opening every two minutes to involuntarily steal glances at the man next to him. Sanghyeok is like a statue while he reads, unmoving and silent. He flips book pages nonstop for two hours and then spends the other two with closed eyes.

If Jihoon didn’t know him better (through methodical observation, not creepy two-year-long staring), he’d assume his coworker was asleep. But through his careful examinations of Sanghyeok’s behavior, he has learned that the man just enjoys meditating. Jihoon doesn’t really get that hobby of his, since to him sleep is like a gift from the heavens. Looking at Sanghyeok meditating for two hours straight also doesn’t help him understand it better but he decides to blame it on the lack of better things to do.

The workshop is held in multiple conference rooms of a fancy hotel, each of them full of people from all around the country. Jihoon starts questioning the point of the event only ten minutes in after he notices that most of the teams around them are struggling to figure out how to present their ideas without them getting stolen by others. Marketing is a big part of every business and naturally, no one wants to show their cards to the opponent. This makes such open workshops completely useless, however, Jihoon stands by his statement that it’s still better than working, so he doesn’t complain.

After four hours of empty talk, the event ends and he finds his new favorite spot by a table with one-bite sandwiches. His peace and quiet are quickly interrupted when Siwoo joins him and stacks three of them in a tower before stuffing it whole in his mouth.

“Did you get your room key?” He asks after an intense chewing session.

Jihoon shakes his head in response, “You can have it, I’ll pick mine up later.”

He’s met with Siwoo’s devilish grin which makes his blood run cold.

“You’re not sleeping with me,” he says. “I’m sharing a room with Giin tonight.”

“Then who am I rooming with?” Jihoon asks despite already knowing the answer. There’s no other reason Siwoo would be grinning from ear to ear like a monkey.

“Sanghyeok-hyung, of course,” his colleague replies, as if that’s the greatest news he’s ever delivered. “Since the company is paying for our stay we have to share and he’s the only one without a roommate yet.”

“Siwoo-hyung, do you hate me?” Jihoon asks simply. Trying to reason with this man is like Sisyphus pushing the boulder up the hill only for it to roll back down.

Said man grabs two more sandwiches and lets out a comically deep sigh. “I hate you as much as you hate Sanghyeok-hyung,” he replies. “I’ll leave it up to your small brain to figure it out one day.”

Then he’s gone, just like Jihoon’s will to live.

Sanghyeok is waiting in the hallway when Jihoon finally takes his card key from the reception desk and goes up to their shared room. He looks up from his book and greets him with a nod, seemingly uneager to start a conversation.

Jihoon decides to ignore his colleague’s signals because he’s petty when it comes to Sanghyeok and he’s also curious as to why he’s standing outside when he had clearly seen him leave the conference room way too long ago.

“Sanghyeok-ssi,” Jihoon greets with a curt bow. “Why are you standing outside? Did you not get your key from the reception desk?”

His coworker presses two fingers into his suit’s front pocket and takes out a card just like Jihoon’s.

“I have the key,” he answers calmly. “But I thought going inside first would be improper of me so I waited.”

It takes a lot of self-control for Jihoon to not roll his eyes dramatically in front of his colleague’s face. Mr. Proper as always, is what he thinks.

“That’s very considerate of you,” is what he answers instead. Even if the monotonous delivery of his line causes suspicion of his sincerity, Sanghyeok doesn’t comment on it.

The room is silent while they unpack the small amount of things they’ve brought to Gangneung. Jihoon feels like he’s suffocating, too eager to fill the silence but also too unwilling to start a conversation. He’s saved from his misery when Sanghyeok asks him if he’s going to shower, to which he replies with an awkward no. Jihoon then decides to give him some personal space while he washes up and goes back to the lobby to kill time.

It takes him approximately three minutes on the lobby sofa to realize he has two problems. One, he has absolutely no clue how long it will take for Sanghyeok to shower and two, he has nothing to do downstairs.

But boredom is often the best instigator for things we usually avoid doing due to embarrassment or some kind of inner moral compass. It’s when we have nothing to do that we find it hard to resist googling the answer to an obscure question we’ve had for a while or finally taking a peek at someone’s social media and zooming in on their posts until we accidentally press “Like” and throw our phone on the other side of the room.

Maybe that’s why fifteen minutes later Jihoon finds himself staring at Sanghyeok’s Instagram profile, hands a bit too shaky to press on his last post and open it. Finding it hadn’t been a struggle since he just used his full legal name like the average uncle but Jihoon had needed approximately ten minutes to gather the courage to actually type it in the search bar.

After the first few seconds of pure adrenaline pass, self-judgment settles in. Why is he so scared to take a peek at his colleague’s social media? They are acquaintances so it’s only natural for him to want to learn a bit more about Sanghyeok. And it’s not like it’s forbidden – after all his account is public so he must be aware that everyone can see his posts.

Finding confidence in his own reasoning, Jihoon taps on the picture that his thumb hovers over. It’s a recent post of Sanghyeok in front of N Seoul Tower during a snowy night. He’s posing exactly how Jihoon would expect him to – a standing emoji in the first pic and a standing emoji with a thumbs up in the second one. But for some reason, Jihoon feels like the more he looks at these photos, the more his brain chemicals change.

He eventually figures it out. It’s still Sanghyeok but he’s one, not wearing a suit and two, actually smiling. It’s not like he doesn’t smile at work – he’s the most polite person Jihoon knows and he bows at anyone and anything. But the expression on these pics is not his usual business “Good morning” smile. There’s something softer and more sincere about it that pisses Jihoon off. Unfortunately, he’s a bit too emotionally constipated to understand what exactly makes him mad about someone smiling.

Jihoon scrolls through his posts and gets even more pissed off after finding out that in most of them Sanghyeok is surrounded by the same group of people who he looks extremely happy with. In some of the pics he even ditches the standing emoji pose for a shot from a goofy perspective which leads Jihoon to stick his nose to the screen to confirm that’s actually his colleague and not some random person who looks like him.

The revelation that Sanghyeok has friends he drops his business smile for is Jihoon’s last straw. He slams his phone on the sofa with a deep sigh and runs his fingers through his hair. In his twenty-five years of living, he has never been so confused about his own opinion about a person. It’s not like he hates Sanghyeok – he has never been anything but kind and helpful. Jealousy is also not all of it, since Jihoon has learned to be proud of his achievements and also receives acknowledgment for them.

One thing he knows is that it’s complicated. If he doesn’t hate Sanghyeok but also doesn’t care enough about him to be jealous, then why does he need ten minutes to click on his account. And colleagues don’t get pissed off at each other for smiling either, so what exactly is wrong with him?

Jihoon decides that such difficult questions are impossible to solve after a long day of corporal workshops, so he moves on to the next challenge – sharing a room with the person who caused this situation in the first place.

Once he realizes that he has been in the lobby for over forty minutes, Jihoon goes back to their room. He expects to be engulfed in darkness since Sanghyeok seems like the type of person who goes to bed early, but is instead welcomed by the soft light of the bedside lamp. After taking a few more steps inside, he realizes that the light isn’t on because Sanghyeok is awake. In fact, his colleague is lying in his bed like a corpse with his blanket pulled up all the way to his chin.

It’s an intense staring contest except Jihoon is the only participant and the only one staring. He has never seen Sanghyeok without his glasses before and he’s starting to freak out because the first time he does is because his coworker is sleeping in a bed less than five meters away from where he will be sleeping later.

He does his skincare to calm down and then lays down, refusing to move his eyes even an inch towards the person sleeping next to him. It could always be worse, he thinks to himself. They could’ve made them share a queen bed. That would’ve been way worse, right?

Luckily, Jihoon’s gulp isn’t loud enough to wake Sanghyeok up.

Chapter Text

The beeping of Jihoon’s alarm wakes him up at seven-thirty and he lets out an annoyed groan before reaching blindly towards the nightstand to turn it off. He rubs a palm over his eyes and opens them only to realize he had completely forgotten where he is and who he’s with.

Jihoon jolts up, eyes snapping to the bed next to him where Sanghyeok is still sleeping, unbothered by the alarm. He goes to the bathroom on his tippy toes and starts brushing his teeth when more loud beeping echoes through the bedroom once again.

It takes Jihoon a couple of seconds to remember that it’s his phone that’s ringing since he always sets at least two alarms in case the first one doesn’t wake him up. He opens the bathroom door in panic and it slams loudly against the stopper. Sitting in his bed, Sanghyeok looks at him with something akin to curiosity.

“Good morning,” he greets calmly. His glasses are back on his face, as if he had never taken them off in the first place.

The continuous beeping gets Jihoon out of his trance and he hurries to the nightstand, turning the alarm off. He turns to Sanghyeok, toothbrush still in his mouth.

“Goof monin,” he answers back quietly, because not saying anything sounds worse than risking spitting toothpaste all over his shirt. “Sowy fo the alam.”

A new entry in the business smile collection – the sleepy business smile. Jihoon is strangely not mad about it at all.

“That’s okay,” Sanghyeok replies. “I forgot to set up mine so it’s good that it woke me up.”

Jihoon only nods in response. He stands there awkwardly for a while, as his colleague starts stretching his wrists, before he turns back to the bathroom.

“Interesting pants,” a voice calls out behind him.

He chokes on toothpaste.

Sanghyeok doesn’t strike Jihoon as someone who is ever late. He’s always prime and proper, always on time for every meeting at the office. So it does come as a surprise to Jihoon that his coworker has the most horrible time management known to humankind.

Despite having an hour to get ready and minimal things to pack, they exit the room five minutes later than the time they were supposed to be meeting the rest of their colleagues at the lobby. Jihoon had thought about leaving first but looking at Sanghyeok meticulously putting his belongings back in his bag had convinced him that if he were to leave, his coworker might end up being an hour late. The calm look on his face is enough for Jihoon to realize that this man is probably late for everything but work.

The heel of Jihoon’s shoe taps nervously on the hallway carpet while they wait for the elevator to come up. They have more than enough time to get to the bus terminal but he feels some unexplainable unease take over him. It’s in such situations that he wishes people had summoner spells in real life. He’d just take teleport and get the fuck away from Sanghyeok and all the complicated feelings he evokes. Maybe there is something in the air in Gangneung that makes him suspiciously nervous about being next to his rival.

The elevator doors open with a ding and they get in. Jihoon selects the first floor and then taps the ‘Close Door’ button about a dozen times. If Sanghyeok notices his distress, he doesn’t comment on it and remains silent and calm, as if he’s not the sole reason for Jihoon’s nervous meltdown. Because they’re late, of course. Nothing else.

The doors finally close and the elevator moves for only a couple of seconds before it stops abruptly, sending both its passengers in one corner. When Jihoon recovers from the initial shock, he finds himself face to face with Sanghyeok, his free hand slammed right next to his colleague’s head. The latter is looking up to him, the calm expression not leaving his face for even a second, and Jihoon has no other option but to stare.

He forgets where he is and what kind of predicament he is in. The only thing his brain is able to process is that he’s closer to Sanghyeok than he’s ever been before. Close enough to see that there is not a single spec of dust on his glasses. Close enough to see how it would look like if he were to–

Jihoon recoils all the way to the opposite wall of the elevator, slamming his back against it so hard that the cab shakes again. He clears his throat and looks to the monitor only to find it stuck at number five.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” He scoffs in anger before realizing who’s next to him. He looks back to Sanghyeok who, fortunately, doesn’t seem to be affected by his cursing at all. Or by the previous series of events. Which Jihoon doesn’t find that fortunate for some reason.

He checks his phone and is met by a ‘No Signal’ notification, so he turns to his coworker.

“Do you–” an embarrassing voice crack interrupts him and he clears his throat once more. “Do you have any signal? We will have to inform the rest of the group that we’re stuck here.”

Sanghyeok finally looks away from him and takes out his phone. Then he shakes his head no.

Jihoon lets out an exasperated sigh, dropping his bag on the floor to press the palms of his hands against his eyes. After taking a couple of deep breaths he turns back to the monitor, presses the emergency bell and waits.

Ten seconds later a woman’s voice sounds through the speaker. “Hello, how may I help you?”

Jihoon suppresses the snarky remark on the tip of his tongue. Oh well, I was just pressing buttons for fun, nothing much.

“The right elevator is currently stuck around the fifth floor,” he says flatly instead. “It would be wonderful if you could find a way to get us out as soon as possible.”

Silence follows and Jihoon needs to take another deep breath to stop himself from slamming his head against the monitor.

“The technicians are currently not on site but we have called them for you,” the woman finally replies. “Depending on traffic it might take around twenty to thirty minutes for them to arrive. Please do not try to open the door manually, as this might pose a danger to your health. We really appreciate your patience in this matter and apologize for the inconvenience.”

The line cuts off, leaving the elevator in silence again.

Jihoon is scared that he will take out his frustration on Sanghyeok if he speaks up, so he keeps his mouth shut. They’re both not big talkers to begin with, so he’s not surprised when his coworker pulls out his phone again and starts a game of chess.

Jihoon is not claustrophobic but after spending twenty minutes in the elevator, he feels himself getting more anxious with each passing second. He sits down on the floor and bites down on his knuckle, his leg jumping up and down.

He is stuck in an elevator, has missed the bus to Seoul and is not even sure when he will be able to leave this cab from hell. And from all the people he could’ve gotten stuck with, it just has to be Sanghyeok. In a moment of madness, Jihoon almost convinces himself that being here with Siwoo would’ve been a better option. He realizes that he hasn’t completely lost his mind yet when he comes to the conclusion that this would’ve actually been way worse.

Lost in his own misery, Jihoon almost doesn’t notice when Sanghyeok looks away from his phone and steps away from the opposite wall to sit down next to him. Then he focuses on his game again without saying a single word.

Jihoon’s leg stops shaking and he follows the chess game for the next few minutes even though he doesn’t have a single clue what is happening. Staring at his colleague’s phone is better than staring at his lips like a freak so he doesn’t complain.

After what seems like an eternity, the elevator shakes again and starts going down. They stand up and wipe away the dust from their suits in sync, as the doors open on the first floor where a very concerned receptionist is fidgeting with her hands.

“Sirs!” She exclaims once they step out, looking like she’s about to cry at any second. “We are so sorry for this mishap.”

Before Jihoon manages to open his mouth, Sanghyeok is already replying with a small smile on his face. “Accidents happen. We are completely safe, so please don’t worry about it.”

However this is not enough to reassure the receptionist and she keeps bowing profusely, as she takes out two pieces of paper from her breast pocket and extends them towards him. Jihoon can only look around hopelessly, uncomfortable with the stares the commotion is gathering from the guests in the lobby.

“Please accept these coupons as our gratitude for your patience and understanding,” the woman says in a ninety-degree bow.

Sanghyeok takes the papers from her hands and bows in return. “Thank you, we will use them well.”

Next to him, Jihoon unlocks his phone to see five missed calls from Siwoo. He looks at Sanghyeok who meets his gaze and nods in understanding.

The two of them head out of the hotel and after a couple of beeps, Siwoo picks up.

“Hyung,” Jihoon calls out first, “where are you?”

“Shouldn’t I be asking that question?” Siwoo replies, voice dripping with irony. “We’re on the bus to Seoul. The one you should’ve been on too if you weren’t busy hanging out with your ‘two-in-one-enemy-but-also-crush’ coworker.”

Jihoon throws a secret glance at Sanghyeok and relief washes over him when he finds him immersed in his chess game again and totally oblivious to the phone conversation.

“Very funny,” Jihoon’s tone is flatter than Siwoo’s ass. “Whatever, I’ll explain it later. Have a safe trip.”

He hangs up without waiting for an answer and opens the bus terminal’s website.

“The next bus to Seoul is in one hour,” he starts. “If we head to the terminal now we could–”

Jihoon looks at Sanghyeok and finds him staring at the coupons in his hand. His colleague looks back at him and Jihoon can guess what he’s about to say before the words leave his mouth.

“Let’s go explore Gangneung.”

Jihoon is not the type of person to follow anyone around but when Sanghyeok opens a map on his phone and strolls down a street they both don’t know the name of, he quickly joins him like a dog on a leash.

“Do you even know where you’re going?” Jihoon asks after finally remembering he has free will. “Why don’t we just go to the bus terminal and go home? You can do your own thing after that.”

Sanghyeok’s gaze doesn’t leave the map, as he replies, “I’ve never been to Gangneung before and we have coupons for a free meal at a popular local restaurant. Not using them would be a shame.”

“You can just keep them and go with your friends later, no?” Jihoon hopes he doesn’t sound as desperate as he is. “The colleagues that you usually hang out with, right?”

The Jihoon from the present doesn’t know that the Jihoon from the future would’ve never forgiven him if Sanghyeok had actually followed his suggestion. Thankfully, that is not the case, as Sanghyeok finally stops in one place and lifts his eyes from the screen so he can look at him.

“I’m here with you now, am I not?” He says. A simple sentence but it hits Jihoon like an emotional cargo truck.

He is left with no time to even swallow his chewed-up thoughts before Sanghyeok starts walking again. Already defeated once, Jihoon stays quiet and just follows.

Sanghyeok turns out to be such an amazing travel guide that Jihoon quickly forgets about his desire to go home. Their first destination is an eco-park with a long tree-lined path and they take a stroll through it, mostly in silence. It’s late autumn, yet the leaves refuse to let go of the branches and cling to them in beautiful yellows and oranges.

“What month were you born in?” Jihoon asks suddenly, head tilted up to look at the colors around them.

“In May,” Sanghyeok replies. “Why?”

Jihoon learns that looking at his colleague is a mistake that costs him every lie he can come up with.

“Autumn suits you well.”

The only answer he gets is in the form of a small smile on Sanghyeok’s face. It’s the first non-business one, so Jihoon has to look back at the leaves before he loses his mind and jumps into the lotus pond.

Around noon they visit the local restaurant and Jihoon goes through another personal crisis when the waitress serves a big pile of spicy cucumber pickles right in front of him. He stands there frozen with a disgusted expression on his face until Sanghyeok takes pity on him and moves the dish towards himself with unhidden amusement.

Jihoon recovers from the pickle attack and clears his throat in embarrassment. To his horror, Sanghyeok takes a cucumber with his chopsticks and nods his head in approval after having a taste.

“You’re missing out,” he fails to hide his smile as he speaks up. “These are really delicious, no wonder the hotel gave us coupons for this place.”

Jihoon can’t help but pout at the teasing lilt in his voice. Sanghyeok’s smile only gets wider.

The days are shorter in fall. By the time they are done exploring the area around an old historical pavilion, the sun has almost fully disappeared behind the horizon.

They grab a steaming hotteok each and sit on the beach, uncaring of the sand that clings to their coats. The busy street stays behind them and only the lights illuminating the sea serve as a hint that the planet is not only sand and water.

“The beach always feels–,” Jihoon can’t help but speak up. “It feels like it’s separated from the rest of the world. It’s like once you step on the sand you forget what being anywhere else feels like.”

The lack of a reply makes him wish he had never opened his mouth.

“Or maybe I’m just weird and that’s not a thing to anyone else, I don’t–”

“I understand what you mean,” Sanghyeok interrupts him. “We’re so used to the city that nature feels alien sometimes. As if there’s a barrier that separates the two and who you are in one place is not who you were before you entered it.”

“Yeah,” Jihoon’s voice is close to a whisper as he stares at the waves crashing against the shore. “That’s exactly how it feels like.”

Sanghyeok finishes his hotteok and takes his phone out of his pocket. After a minute, he locks it and puts it away again.

“There’s a bus in an hour so it’s best if we catch a taxi in a bit,” he says. “It should take around ten minutes to the terminal.”

“Alright,” Jihoon agrees but there is a lump in his throat that gets increasingly bigger when Sanghyeok gets up and dusts the sand off his coat.

His heart starts freaking out in his chest and he swallows but he can’t get the words out of his mouth. Then he looks at the sea once more. They’re in a bubble and there’s a big barrier separating them from the rest of the world. No one will hear him but the person next to him.

“Can we do this more often?” He says at last, gathering enough confidence to speak up but still not enough to look at Sanghyeok. “Meeting outside work hours, I mean.”

He can feel his colleague’s eyes on him. One wave crashes against the shore. Then another. Then an answer.

“Of course,” Sanghyeok says, as if that’s the only possible option. Even if it didn’t seem like it in Jihoon’s mind. “I had a lot of fun today.”

Jihoon finally looks up. Leaving Gangneung won’t make him forget how the beach feels. Sanghyeok carries the essence of the waves with him.

Chapter Text

Humans can be cowardly creatures. In a moment of courage we finally make a decision but once that courage washes away like shampoo water down the drain, we find all kinds of excuses to take it back.

Jihoon doesn’t want to be a coward. It’s easy to forget the words that awkwardly stumbled out of his mouth that day at the beach but he doesn’t want to.

He wants Sanghyeok to remember them too. It takes him two days of self-motivational talk to finally do something about it but the look of horror on Siwoo’s face when he passes by their usual table at the cafeteria and places his tray next to Sanghyeok’s is very much worth it.

“Mind if I sit here?” Jihoon hopes his voice doesn’t sound as shaky as he is.

Sanghyeok looks up from the book he’s reading and straight into his eyes. Fortunately, he is quick to smile, otherwise Jihoon would’ve picked his tray back up and submitted his letter of resignation straight after that.

“Of course not,” his colleague replies and yet again it sounds like he has never even thought about the possibility of a different answer. “Though I did get the pickled cucumbers today.”

One look at his tray is enough for Jihoon to identify his mortal enemy, sitting next to a bowl of rice. He does his best to not let the disgust show on his face.

“That’s fine,” he replies. It’s not convincing but Sanghyeok lets it slide. “I can endure it.”

Sanghyeok chuckles in response and Jihoon forgets about the pickles. He’s a bit too overeager to sit down and his chair scrapes against the floor, gathering a few curious glances from the people around them. Jihoon looks around in embarrassment and his eyes have the misfortune to meet Siwoo’s, who’s staring at him from his table with a devilish grin on his face. Jihoon decides that if he wants to keep his sanity, he will need to prepare a good defense for their inevitable conversation later.

The whole point of sitting at another table is to focus on Sanghyeok though, so he turns to do just that. His coworker has already put away his book and is concentrating hard on what side dish to take a bite of next. Jihoon’s heart skips a beat at the revelation that the pickles have been moved as far away from him as possible.

They eat in silence but unlike any other day, Sanghyeok doesn’t get up as soon as he’s finished his food. Instead, he puts all the dishes and utensils back on the tray and turns his attention to Jihoon. The latter curses himself for not coming to lunch sooner and stuffs the rest of the rice in his mouth, which turns out to be a bad idea when he ends up looking like a greedy chipmunk.

“Eat slowly,” Sanghyeok scolds but there is no malice in his tone. “We have a lot of time left.”

Jihoon finally looks up at his coworker, who can’t help but crack a tight-lipped smile after being met by two very stuffed cheeks.

“Eating fast causes digestive problems,” Sanghyeok continues. “That’s the last thing you want to have in the long meeting we’re having later.”

It takes Jihoon ten seconds to finally be done chewing the rice, “Did you read that in the book?”

“No,” Sanghyeok replies, a smile still adorning his face, “it’s common sense. But books can teach you a lot about self-improvement and even small habits like this one can be of big importance to your daily life.”

If he was having this conversation with anyone else, Jihoon would've probably rolled his eyes back so far into his head that they would’ve gotten stuck there. But Sanghyeok is not just anyone, so instead he wishes the rest of the workday would magically get canceled so he can stay here and keep listening to his colleague talk about self-improvement all day, chin propped up on his hand and all.

“Jihoon-ssi?” Sanghyeok’s voice pulls him out of his trance.

“Huh?”

What were they even talking about?

“Yeah, I’ll be more patient,” he manages to reply, brain cells finally waking up. “I just wanted to have enough time to talk to you about something.”

Sanghyeok’s forehead is always covered by his hair but Jihoon still notices the way his eyebrows go up in surprise.

“About what?”

Saying he wants to ask something is easy. The difficult part is actually getting the words out of his mouth, so Jihoon clears his throat just to buy some more time to convince himself to not chicken out.

“I was wondering if you–” he starts but it’s lame. It’s so lame, goddammit. So he tries again. “Would you like to grab some coffee tomorrow after work? To celebrate Friday and all.”

They say patience is a virtue but a man like Jihoon The Cowardly Dog knows none of it. All he thinks about in this moment is that it’s been two seconds and Sanghyeok hasn’t replied, so he probably hates him and doesn’t want to hang out with him ever again.

“Or if you have other things planned then that’s okay, too,” he blurts out lamely. “You can just ignore–”

Sanghyeok taps his finger on the table twice and Jihoon takes that as his signal to shut up. Then he gulps loudly because why the fuck was that so attractive?

“I don’t have any plans,” Sanghyeok starts, “and I’ll gladly get some coffee with you. Just tell me when and where.”

“Right,” Jihoon answers, completely stunned. “Cool.”

It turns out that telling Sanghyeok when doesn’t really matter because he’s always late anyway. At first Jihoon worries that something unexpected keeps happening but after meeting him at many different places and different times in the past month, he learns that it’s just how his coworker functions.

But even when it gets colder, Jihoon happily waits outside, hands in his pockets and shoulders up all the way to his neck, just so he can see the nonchalant expression on Sanghyeok’s face even when he’s well aware that he is late once again. A tiny “sorry” is enough to make him forget about the cold anyway.

Jihoon is addicted to finding out more about Sanghyeok in a way he’s never been before. His colleague doesn’t talk about himself unless prompted but once Jihoon drops his desire to act mysterious, he can’t stop himself from asking him more and more questions. Sanghyeok, of course, answers every single one of them without hesitation and always asks something in return. If Jihoon didn’t know him better he would assume it’s just an act of kindness so he doesn’t seem disinterested in him. But he has learned a lot about his coworker now and knows that he is simply curious about him as well. And that genuine interest is all Jihoon needs to forget his previous reservations about him.

“What was your dream profession as a child?” Jihoon asks on yet another Friday, slumped against the coffee table with his head resting on his arm. It’s been a long day so he allows himself to ditch the decency in his posture even in front of Mr. Prim and Proper whose back is as straight as ever. Only his slightly ruffled hair gives away that it’s been a rough day for both of them. “Let me guess, actually. A doctor, a lawyer, or a teacher.”

There’s a smile on Sanghyeok’s face when he puts his cup back on the table.

“I wanted to be a professional gamer, actually.”

Jihoon jumps up so abruptly that he almost knocks over both of their cups and Sanghyeok chuckles at the shocked expression on his face.

“It’s a bit silly, I kno–”

“It’s not silly,” Jihoon exclaims. The sincerity in his voice turns Sanghyeok’s slightly forced smile into one of relief. “I can very clearly see another universe where you would be the best esports player the world has known. And then I would be the new emerging prodigy who tries to surpass you.”

His vivid imagination seems to calm Sanghyeok’s previous uneasiness and he lets out a small chuckle before taking another sip.

“We’d also have people comparing us all the time and arguing about who the better player is but in reality, we’d respect each other and enjoy competing too much to even care about that,” Jihoon continues passionately. “Wouldn’t that be so cool?”

“Mn,” Sanghyeok agrees simply. “I think I’d be very satisfied with that.”

Jihoon is about to lay back down on the table and leave it at that but then he realizes he wants to know so much more. And so he asks, “Wait, what game did you play? Were you good? Why didn’t you go pro?”

Sanghyeok is taken aback by his sudden interrogation but Jihoon knows he will answer. He always does, even if his replies are sometimes cryptic or vague. Jihoon has learned that this is his colleague’s way of keeping the conversation going even when he’s not comfortable with being honest. So Jihoon isn’t afraid of asking questions – he knows that if he’s trusted enough, he will get an honest answer. And if not, he will just have to work even harder until the day Sanghyeok wants to share the truth.

“I played LoL in high school,” he says at last. “Judging by the offers I received from some teams, I’d say I was pretty good.”

There’s a small smile on his face that tells Jihoon that ‘pretty good’ is an understatement. Getting the attention of a scout is all the proof he needs.

“In the end, I just decided to go for something else,” Sanghyeok continues. Jihoon holds his breath as he watches him fidget with the water bottle in front of him. “It would be a lie to say I don’t wonder what could’ve happened if I had taken one of those offers but I don’t like dwelling on the past too much.”

“So you’d rather forget it happened to begin with?” Jihoon asks even though he can guess the answer.

“To pretend something never existed is a waste,” Sanghyeok replies without hesitation. “Even if some memories bring you pain, isn’t it better to learn from the experience and strive to make it better in the future?”

Jihoon only nods. A sudden whirl of emotions occupies his mind and it must be obvious on his face judging by the way Sanghyeok’s content smile transforms into one of guilt.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to spoil the mood,” he says quietly.

And damned be the whirl because Jihoon doesn’t want to see that apologetic look on his face ever again.

“I want to know you,” he channels every single drop of sincerity he has in him to look Sanghyeok straight in the eye. “I want to know the real you and if that includes some not-so-happy moments then I want to hear about them too. So don’t ever apologize for sharing how you feel.”

Sanghyeok stares at him unblinkingly for a few moments and Jihoon feels warmth creep up his neck. He could say he was just joking but he won’t. He can’t be insincere to the person he’s asking for sincerity.

At last, Sanghyeok looks back to his cup and a smile finds its way back to his face.

“You’re very kind, Jihoon-ssi,” he says softly, completely oblivious to the impact his words have on Jihoon’s heart. “I think I would’ve loved being your rival in another universe.”

Then his gaze is back on him just like it always is when he’s about to say something that will leave Jihoon awake through the whole night.

“But in this one, I prefer being something better than that.”

It’s interesting how a single sentence can get imprinted in your mind to the point where you can’t go back to the person you were before you heard this particular string of words.

This is exactly the effect the coffeeshop conversation ends up having on Jihoon who spends the next couple of days completely unable to finish a single task without Sanghyeok’s words echoing in his mind. And the more he thinks about it, the more he realizes that he doesn’t have a single clue what he’s doing. He has come to terms with the fact that he doesn’t hate Sanghyeok. In fact, he likes him very much. The problem is that he can’t figure out what kind of ‘like’ it is and when he starts thinking about that kind of ‘like’, he gets extremely nervous and tries to convince himself it’s nothing. Like circling the right answer on a test, only to change it after peeking at your friend’s paper.

He knows he’s reached extreme levels of desperation when he needs to turn to Siwoo for advice. And that’s exactly what he does on a snowy afternoon, as they both wait at the bus stop after work.

“Siwoo-hyung, have you ever liked someone?” Jihoon gets straight to the point, too tired to try and make it seem like he’s not asking for himself.

“Is this what it feels like when parents get asked by their kids where babies come from?” Siwoo smiles a lot but Jihoon can tell that this time the corners of his mouth don’t lift from joy. It’s an attempt to mask the real emotion behind the reply that follows. “I have, yeah.”

“Can you tell me what it’s like?” Jihoon looks down at his shoes to watch the tiny snowflakes melt into droplets and roll down to the ground.

The cars around them are loud but he still hears the deep sigh that escapes from Siwoo’s mouth. A few seconds pass before he finally replies.

“To me, it’s like getting stabbed in the heart with a knife,” he starts. “When you're happy you don’t really feel the knife at all and being with the person you love makes you feel so good. You ask yourself ‘Do I want to spend the rest of my life with them?’ and there is no answer other than ‘yes’.”

Jihoon glances at Siwoo. His colleague stuffs his reddened hands in the pockets of his coat and his breath comes out in a cloud when he exhales.

“When things get hard that knife feels like it’s covered in poison,” Siwoo looks up at the countless lights of the office buildings across the street. “But you cling to old memories and refuse to take the stupid thing out until someone rips it from your chest. Then you have to figure out how to fill the hole you’re left with.”

What follows between them for a couple of moments is only silence. The lack of response from Jihoon forces a fake smile out of Siwoo.

“I got a bit overdramatic there, my bad,” he finally looks back at Jihoon and his eyes glisten but not with joy.

Jihoon feels the guilt trying to nestle in his heart for asking a stupid question but he’s quick to shoo it away. He can tell that Siwoo’s kept his thoughts to himself for way too long and he can’t help but wonder how lonely that must’ve felt.

“Hyung,” he whispers, too afraid that his voice will crack if he speaks up, “you know you can always talk to me about anything, right?”

His colleague takes another shaky breath. The smile that follows is an honest one that spreads warmth all over Jihoon’s body despite the cold weather.

“I’m fine now,” Siwoo cocks his head to the side when he looks at him. “They left for China a long time ago and the hole’s already been stuffed with all the food you bribed me with in your first year. Who could’ve guessed juniors got so shameless.”

Jihoon grins at him in response. Bad memories weigh down on people but he knows enough about Siwoo to believe that he’s truly alright.

“Hyung, let’s go get dinner together,” he blurts out, already imagining the cozy warmth of the barbeque after the long wait in the cold.

Siwoo quirks an eyebrow at that, “I can’t believe you’re asking me out on a date after you wanted advice on your relationship with another man.”

“Oh, fuck off,” Jihoon rolls his eyes, the corners of his mouth drooping down in a frown. “Go eat your ramen after deranking to Diamond again then.”

Siwoo chuckles and takes his hand out of his pocket to hook his arm through Jihoon’s.

“You’re gonna boost me back anyways,” his colleague bats his eyelashes at him and he makes sure to channel all his disgust on his face in response. “Just like you’ll pay for dinner as well.”

Jihoon lets out a weary sigh, “I’ll report you to HR for abuse of power.”

“I’ll bribe Sanghyeok-hyung’s friends to bail me out,” Siwoo is quick to reply, the devilish grin back on his face.

Their bus waits at the traffic light before the stop and when Jihoon turns to look at it, he can feel Siwoo’s eyes on him.

“Just because it happened to me doesn’t mean that your experience will be the same,” he says quietly. “Despite everything, I don’t regret meeting Jae– that person, so don’t let the fear from the pain stop you from being honest with yourself. Or with Sanghyeok-hyung.”

In an old Danish fairy tale a mirror splinter falls into a boy’s eye and turns his heart into ice.

On a cold winter afternoon, the Snow Queen sends a snowflake into Jihoon's eye that melts all the walls around his heart.

Chapter Text

During lunch a few weeks later, Jihoon is at his usual spot on Sanghyeok’s table when the loud screeching of a chair getting dragged against the floor echoes through the cafeteria. The noise is even more bothersome to him since its source stops at their table right next to his colleague.

Jihoon looks up as a tall man flips the chair and sits down, chest pressed against the back of it. His suit jacket is draped over his shoulders and his dark hair falls over his eyes that are currently staring at him with indifference. All in all, Jihoon wouldn’t find it hard to believe that this man accidentally walked into their building thinking it was where his modeling interview was held.

That’s exactly why he’s absolutely stunned when the newcomer turns to his colleague and smiles at him brightly.

“Hi, Sanghyeok-hyung,” the man greets, ignoring the way Jihoon’s jaw almost drops to the floor. “How’s lunch today?”

“Why are you asking when you’re just going to eat the one you brought from home anyway?” Sanghyeok answers without bothering to lift his eyes from his food.

“Are you jealous?” The man smirks, as he puts his elbow on the back of the chair and rests his chin on his palm. “I can ask Wooje to make one for you too.”

Jihoon watches in silence as Sanghyeok finally looks at the newcomer. The lack of annoyance in his eyes is enough to tell him that this is how the conversation usually goes between them.

“He struggles enough with picky eaters like you,” he answers calmly. “Now tell me what you’re here for.”

The smile disappears from the man’s face as he looks back at Jihoon before asking, “That’s the guy?”

Sanghyeok only nods in response and turns to him as well. Jihoon can’t help but feel like an artifact in a museum. On top of being uncomfortable because of the four eyes that are currently on him, he also gets pissed off at the fact that a random guy who is obviously younger than both of them has interrupted their lunch and is close enough with his colleague to speak to him informally. And on top of everything, he’s fucking handsome as well which is just amazing.

“I’m Mun Hyeonjun from Human Resources,” the man supplies. “Jihoon-ssi, right?”

The cogs start turning in Jihoon’s head, as he desperately tries to figure out what exactly he’s done to catch this guy’s attention and force him to come to the cafeteria even though he doesn’t even eat lunch here.

“Was I reported for something?” He asks at last, unable to figure out the reason. He can’t help but find it ironic if true, since he was the one threatening Siwoo with the same thing just last week.

“Unfortunately, yes.”

“Huh?” Jihoon replies in disbelief.

At the same time, Sanghyeok throws an accusatory glare at the man, “Hyeonjun-ah, don’t joke around with things like that.”

The guy’s eyes turn into crescents as he laughs at the scolding and Jihoon can finally breathe when he realizes he’s just being messed with.

“Very funny,” he replies flatly. “Can I report members of HR to HR?”

“You sure can,” Hyeonjun grins at him. “But I don’t think you’re gonna win Sanghyeok-hyung over by fucking up his friend’s career.”

Jihoon chokes on his saliva and involuntarily glances at his colleague who looks away from him and awkwardly adjusts his glasses with his middle finger and his thumb. And then it hits him – friend. That’s why the guy looks so familiar – Jihoon had seen him multiple times in Sanghyeok’s posts.

“Then I guess I won’t be doing that,” he replies lamely after he recovers from the embarrassment.

He doesn’t try to deny Hyeonjun’s claims because he knows he’ll end up sounding like a little kid whose crush just got exposed. The man is also not wrong so Jihoon lets it slide.

“You pass,” Hyeonjun says as he gets up from his chair and turns back to Sanghyeok. “Bring him to dinner this Saturday, the others want to meet him too.”

Then he leaves just as abruptly as he came.

Jihoon’s never seen Sanghyeok looking as perplexed as he does in this moment. His colleague scratches his head and clears his throat before looking back down at his food.

“Sorry about that,” he says after a couple of seconds. “Not exactly the best introduction but it’s his style so–”

“He seems fun. I’d love to meet your other friends too,” Jihoon replies and then adds quickly, “If you’re comfortable with that, of course.”

Sanghyeok looks up again, “How about you join us for dinner this week then?”

Jihoon ends up having dinner with them not only then but also a couple more times in the next month, so he adds four new people to his list of acquaintances. Sanghyeok’s friends are all younger than him and Jihoon feels his heart melt into a puddle every time his colleague gets into the role of the big brother. He’s also amused to find out how they’re grouped when it comes to work – two scary but reliable guys in HR and two silly but soft-hearted ones in Product Management.

Jihoon’s personal friend group also changes, as Siwoo starts hanging out with Giin and his fellow Marketing Specialist Geonbu who quickly take a liking to him. Jihoon also meets a kid at his university reunion and makes the mistake of inviting him to one of their dinners where Siwoo immediately adopts him. That’s how Suhwan becomes a regular at their meetings as well.

Despite all of these changes, the one thing that stays the same is Jihoon’s relationship with Sanghyeok. But after his talk with Siwoo, Jihoon is now sure that he wants to be more than just one of his colleague’s friends. However, he has no idea how Sanghyeok feels about him, which makes pulling the trigger a bit too hard for an overthinker like him.

Here’s the thing – or, well, two things – Jihoon has zero dating experience and office romance is a big challenge for a beginner. He has to not only confess to his senior but also figure out how to keep their relationship a secret from their coworkers. That is if he doesn’t get rejected and resigns on the spot.

And all of his contemplations need to happen while he sees Sanghyeok at the office every day and needs a dangerous amount of self-control to stop himself from just walking up to his desk and blurting out something stupid like “You’re my first crush and I think I’m obsessed with you, please go out with me”. That is not an option.

It’s on a snowy evening two weeks before Christmas that he gets the best idea of his life. His scarf is covered with snowflakes and the yellow light of the street lamps is reflected in the wet concrete when he walks past a red-and-gold door before he immediately stops in his tracks and goes back a few steps.

Above the door hangs a wooden sign with a fat cat lying on top of a thick tome. Jihoon looks to his right and the first thing he sees is a massive bookshelf placed right behind the window. All of the shelves are stacked with books except for one – in the empty space a black cat lies down, its head turned towards him. The shop has already closed and is dimly lit only by a few lamps in the back, so the feline is almost invisible. But its eyes are hard to miss, glowing yellow and staring into Jihoon’s soul.

Jihoon decides that it can’t be anywhere else but here.

On the next day, he shares his plan with his love advisor (who’s unfortunately still Siwoo, since he doesn’t believe asking the other three will result in much) and receives the go-ahead from him. Two days later he wakes up buzzing with excitement, resolve subduing the fear in his heart.

Jihoon leaves his apartment earlier than usual. The cream scarf around his neck is a gift from Sanghyeok who had thrust a bag in his arms just last week, claiming he felt like he was catching a cold just by looking at Jihoon’s exposed neck and calling it a “late-or-early birthday present”. He doesn’t have to know that Jihoon has plenty of scarves that he had deliberately not used to keep his colleague’s attention on him.

The first thing he notices when he gets out of the bus is that there are people in front of the Geng.1 building. He can’t help but find it suspicious since he’s so early today that there is plenty of time until most employees’ shifts start. And even if they also came early, the building is already open so they wouldn’t be standing out in the cold for no reason.

Jihoon gets closer and realizes that most of them are familiar faces – people he’s seen once or twice in the elevator or in the hallways. He’s suddenly surrounded by unintelligible whispering that makes his skin crawl as he pushes his way through the crowd.

“Can’t believe–”

“Do you think that’s real?”

“That’s crazy, I guess my radar isn’t that good after all.”

Then he finally gets a glimpse of what they’re looking at and his heart drops.

Security guards scramble to remove the posters that cover all windows and glass doors of the lobby. They show different pictures of the same two people with blood-red text filling up the empty space on the paper. On some of them they’re embracing each other, on others the shorter one has their arm hooked through the other’s. But no matter what they’re doing, their faces are clear.

“Jihoon-hyung,” he hears a voice behind him and his hands start shaking. It’s the last person he wants to see right here and right now. “What’s all this commotion about? Are we getting a cool Christmas surprise?”

Jihoon turns to his right to see Minseok’s bright smile and rosy cheeks, painted by the cold winter wind. He opens his mouth but no sound comes out if. Let’s go, there’s nothing to see here, he wants to say. He wants to drag him away before it’s too late but there’s no point. It’s already very, very late.

“What are we looking–” Minseok starts and Jihoon can’t do anything but watch as he looks to the window. The smile and the warmth disappear from his face and Jihoons’s heart breaks into a million pieces, “–at…”

Chapter Text

‘Warning! Shameless homos in the company.’

‘HR working overtime. Join and you can date a colleague.’

‘Straight dating at work = FIRED; Homos dating = NO PROBLEM. HR is truly an amazing sovereign.’

Jihoon chews on his knuckles as he sits at his desk and scrolls through the internet forum. Good news spread fast and bad news spread faster so it comes as no surprise that thirty minutes after the incident pictures of the posters have already been uploaded online. Thankfully, the photos on them have been blurred out but the text still gathers the attention of gossipers on the internet. Jihoon is quite sure a lot of them are from the company as well.

He sighs as he closes the tab and leans back on his chair to look at Sanghyeok’s desk at the end of the aisle. His seat is empty. It has been like that since his phone rang a little after he came to work.

Left alone with his thoughts, Jihoon can’t help but feel terrified. It’s not like Minseok or Minhyung are going to get fired – Gen.1 has a strict policy against discrimination so you can’t lose your position simply for being gay. But the pressure of being a subject of gossip in a work environment is petrifying and Jihoon’s brain loves working overtime when it comes to worrying.

Walking past the bookstore that day had given him hope that he hadn’t felt in a long time. Hope that he can finally be honest about his feelings not only to himself but also to the one that sparked them in the first place. And that warmth he had felt after that long-awaited revelation had kept him buzzing with something so real and so bright. It was as if his heart had been locked in his chest all this time but he had finally found the courage to get the key out of the cupboard where it was gathering dust and let it free.

It’s terrifying how a single question rips the key out of his hands and locks his heart back in its prison cell.

What if this happens to him? What if he tells Sanghyeok how he feels and they only get to share a couple of days of happiness before he gets off the bus and finds his face plastered all over the glass doors of the office? What if he is the one his colleagues whisper about in the hallways while they think he isn’t looking?

It’s easy to try and pretend he’s not bothered about what people think about him and blame it on his protectiveness towards Sanghyeok. It’s true that his affection towards his colleague makes him want to stop any harm from coming his way and a situation like this would impact both of them, after all.

But it’s dishonest to not admit that Jihoon’s fears come from his own selfishness. Yes, he wants to protect Sanghyeok, but most of all he wants to protect himself. While blinded by his own newly found feelings, he had forgotten that some people don’t get to love freely. And it’s so unfair because why does something so pure and warm such as simply loving someone from the same gender have to be somebody else’s gossip? Why does being honest with yourself have to come at the price of living in fear that your love might become the source of your biggest misery?

Jihoon’s breath gets stuck in his chest and he slams his fist against it a couple of times. When that doesn’t calm him down, he picks up his phone from the desk and gets up. The last thing he needs right now is to break down in front of all of his coworkers.

He’s a coward so he takes the stairs to the kitchen, too afraid that he might bump into Sanghyeok in the elevator. But every action has its consequences and Jihoon has never had luck on his side.

The kitchen is on HR’s floor so it’s not a surprise that members of the team occupy it for most of the time. But Jihoon’s distress turns off his brain and he fails to take that into account before he walks in and is met by Minhyung’s back, as he stirs a cup of steaming coffee. The sound of footsteps catches his attention and he turns around, finding Jihoon frozen at the door.

Jihoon hasn’t known Minhyung for that long but he’s well familiar with the way the other man always tries to stay calm no matter what kind of shitty situation he’s in. Even then, he’s shocked to see a warm smile on his face.

“Grabbing a morning snack?” Minhyung leans back on the countertop and takes a sip out of the cup. “We’re all going to need some energy in the next few weeks, after all.”

Jihoon finally manages to make his legs work again and he steps inside the kitchen.

“Yeah, I felt like taking a break,” he replies, as he walks to the vending machine and punches a random number. The snack falls with a thud that echoes through the room and Jihoon takes it before leaning against the opposite countertop. He doesn’t open it because he knows his stomach can’t handle anything when he’s feeling like shit. “How are you doing?”

Minhyung lets out a loud sigh but the smile doesn’t leave his face. Jihoon wishes he knew him better so he could tell if it’s honest or just a facade.

“Been better, been worse,” he replies simply. “Our team is going to be really busy from now on, as you can imagine.”

“Do you have any clue who it was?” Jihoon leaves the snack on the countertop so he can fidget with his hands.

“I have a suspicion,” Minhyung shrugs. His coffee mug lands on the marble counter with a loud thud – the only sign of his anger. “A few months ago, HR received a signal for an employee who had been harassing multiple women on his team. We investigated the case and confirmed it was true, so he was fired shortly after.”

Jihoon furrows his eyebrows in confusion, “But why you? Not that I think it’s a better thing to do but wouldn’t it make more sense for him to try and get back at the women instead?”

His question brings a tight smile to Minhyung’s face.

“I was the one to serve the news to that asshole,” he says. “And if I have to be honest, I was pretty disgusted with what he did so I may have been a bit less… professional than I should’ve. I guess he holds a grudge against me for that.”

Jihoon’s chin rests on his hand as he recalls the details on the posters.

“That would explain some of the–” the word leaves a bitter taste in his mouth so he avoids it, “discriminatory slogans on those posters.”

Minhyung sighs and runs a hand through his hair. Jihoon can tell he’s done that quite a few times this morning, since his usually impeccably styled bangs look disheveled now.

“He had a weird obsession with my relationship with Minseokie when we had that conversation back then as well,” he says. His eyebrows draw together and the smile disappears from his face, hinting that their talk was far from pleasant. “He wouldn’t stop insisting that I was being a hypocrite since what he did to the women was what we did.”

“What a fucking weirdo,” Jihoon can’t help but blurt out. “There are no similarities between sexually harassing women and being close with your coworker outside work.”

Minhyung chuckles at his honest outburst and nods in confirmation, “Not to mention Minseokie and I are not romantically involved in any way.”

Jihoon’s hands freeze at that. He looks at Minhyung to try and find any clues on his face that he’s joking but he finds none. His colleague has a small but honest smile on and he tilts his head in confusion when Jihoon keeps staring at him.

“What’s wrong?”

“You’re–” Jihoon starts and his voice cracks. He clears his throat and tries again. “You’re not?”

Minhyung’s eyes crinkle when he smiles. He takes the mug back in his hands and circles its rim with a finger.

“It’s interesting how so many people assume we’re anything more than friends,” he says while looking down at his coffee. “When I was in the elevator today everyone looked at me like they believed those rumors too.”

Jihoon’s not one to pry but the situation has taken a turn that scares him. In the past couple of weeks, he had been around Sanghyeok’s friends a lot and he’d thought he’d learned a lot about their dynamics. For example, Hyeonjun and Wooje were always bundled up in one corner, while Minhyung was always next to Minseok, as if they were two pieces of a puzzle attached together.

Making assumptions about people is something Jihoon tries to avoid but in this case, he hadn’t even thought of it as an assumption to begin with. The two were attached to the hip and he could swear Minseok looked up at Minhyung like he was his whole world. In return, Minhyung would always find time to talk about the other, to the point where it seemed like his whole brain was occupied by thoughts about him and him only. Now that Jihoon is faced with the reality that he was very, very wrong about the two of them, he’s terrified.

“Sorry if I misunderstood,” Jihoon says quietly. Minhyung’s smile makes him feel sick to his stomach, so he looks back down to his hands. “I just thought– I thought you guys were closer than that. I mean, you’re always together and–”

The more he tries to explain it, the less sense it makes. Friends can be close. Friends can hug without it being romantic. He hasn’t even hugged Sanghyeok yet, so why did he think they could be anything more than–

“Close friends,” Minhyung says. Jihoon’s eyes start to sting. “That’s what we are and will, hopefully, always be.”

The sound of the mug hitting the countertop doesn’t mask the loud thud that comes from the kitchen door. Both of them turn towards it, only to find Minseok standing there frozen, his hand propped against the wall as if to stop him from stumbling.

Jihoon knows he looks like shit but Minseok looks even worse. His face is pale and his eyes glisten with an emotion far from happiness. He tries to smile but it’s so obviously fake that it breaks Jihoon’s heart.

“Why are you standing there like a statue?” Minhyung chuckles and it’s fake too. Jihoon wishes he had never gone to the kitchen.

“I wanted to grab a snack,” Minseok looks at his feet when he replies. Then he lifts his head and makes another poor attempt at smiling, “but I’ve gained a lot of weight recently, so I’ll actually pass. See you guys later.”

He turns on his heel and disappears as quickly as he had arrived.

Jihoon stares at the doorway, breath caught in his throat. The room is silent for a while until he hears Minhyung let out another exhausted sigh.

“I hate this asshole for bringing Minseokie into this,” he says, as he takes the mug and puts it in the sink. Jihoon’s peripheral vision sees only his back when he turns around and runs the tap. The sound of the water filling the cup is loud. Too loud.

“I have to go,” Jihoon blurts out with the little breath he has remaining.

He doesn’t wait for an answer before he storms out of the kitchen. Jihoon runs down the stairs to his floor on autopilot and grabs his coat before heading back to the staircase. He can feel Siwoo’s concerned gaze on his back and he knows he will have to explain himself to their team manager later but he can’t think about it right now. All he knows is that he has to get out before he suffocates. Or worse – catches even a single glimpse of Sanghyeok.

It’s a cold winter day and even the smokers value their warm toes more than an unhealthy addiction, so Jihoon climbs up to the rooftop, skipping three stairs with each step. Only a few people occupy the space but he pays them no attention, as he almost runs to the edge and grabs the ice-cold railing. It sends a freezing shock through his hand and it’s exactly what he needs, so he keeps it there. His ragged breath comes out in little clouds that go up before vanishing into thin air. His thoughts are not on the tip of his tongue, so they stay and pollute his mind with worry.

Jihoon doesn’t know how long he stands there, hands braced against the cold metal. At some point, the pain gets so strong that he can almost see the snowflakes turning into sharp knives and digging into his skin. Yet it’s still more bearable than the storm in his heart.

It suddenly feels like his whole world is flipped over and what was once right is now wrong. He had never realized that ever since he had met Sanghyeok, he had taken everything for granted. He had assumed they were getting closer every day and a couple of weeks later he was almost convinced his affection was requited.

But now that the sharp, cold ice digs into his palm it hits him that, objectively, their relationship is no different than Minseok and Minhyung’s. They hang out a couple of times a week and that’s it. Sure, Jihoon’s been bolder than usual with his advances but even then none of them had crossed any lines. Sanghyeok, on the other hand, is always kind to anyone and that kindness is now a thorn in Jihoon’s mind because what if it’s just that? Just kindness. Just him feeling too bad to reject a colleague and make it awkward between them at work.

And Jihoon’s heart hurts because he doesn’t want to be just another one of Sanghyeok’s friends. Deep down he knows he would rather be that instead of not being part of his colleague’s life at all, but it’s still not enough. Day after day he finds it harder to keep his hand in the pocket of his coat while they walk next to each other and Sanghyeok’s arm swings next to him, fingers reddened by the cold winter air. When they say goodbye, it takes him all of his willpower to stop himself from taking the other man into his arms and whispering a warm “see you tomorrow” into his neck.

The idea that maybe Sanghyeok has never had a similar thought about him sickens Jihoon. And it hurts so much more after he’s spent weeks imagining what it would feel like. Taking Sanghyeok’s hand into his, running his fingers through the hair at the back of his neck when their lips finally meet, strangers no more. What if it remains just that – an illusion, an offspring of wishful thinking.

Jihoon swipes a hand over his cheek before the tear manages to slide down and freeze there, a manifestation of his grief. He looks around to see if anyone’s noticed and that’s when he sees him – Minseok, sitting at a bench on the opposite side of the rooftop with his face almost fully buried in his white scarf.

Even from far away, Jihoon can see the tears that roll down his face and land on the soft wool. His legs move on autopilot, as he walks to the bench and sits down next to his colleague, close enough to feel his warmth but far enough to give him some space.

They don’t walk. Unlike Jihoon, Minseok doesn’t wipe his tears away but lets them stain his cheeks. When Jihoon finally turns to him, he can see the lonely path they leave behind.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He asks quietly. The cold has finally chased everyone away and back to their desks, but he doesn’t feel like raising his voice. “If not, I can leave and give you some space.”

“Please, stay,” Minseok’s voice is uncharacteristically weak and Jihoon hates it. He’s always been the loudest of them all. “I’m scared that if you don’t, I might just shout it all out from the rooftop like a madman.”

Jihoon lets out a small smile at that, “Why not?”

“Because then everyone would know the posters weren’t complete bullshit.”

Minseok’s head hangs low for a few seconds, red nose buried in his scarf. Jihoon doesn’t reply and simply waits for him to continue.

Finally, Minseok turns to look at him, surprise painted all over his face, “You’re not shocked?”

“That you’re in love with Minhyung and he’s the only dumbass who hasn’t noticed yet?” Jihoon raises an eyebrow. The embarrassment on Minseok’s face leaves him feeling a little bit guilty for his frankness. “I’m not surprised but if I have to be honest, I didn’t expect that outcome.”

Minseok lets out a loud sigh and looks up at the sky. A stray snowflake lands in his eye and melts on his cheek. Or maybe it’s just a tear, Jihoon is the last person to judge anyway.

“I know it sounds stupid but I didn’t either,” he replies. “I guess I was a bit delusional but I really thought he–”

His voice cracks and he chokes up. Jihoon hasn’t known him for that long but he’s well aware of how the other one functions best. It’s ironic that he’s learned by watching Minhyung do it instead.

He takes his hand out of his pocket, interlocks Minseok’s fingers with his and sticks them back in to protect them from the cold. Then, he waits.

A few moments later, Minseok lifts his face from the scarf where he had previously hidden it. Jihoon thinks it must be wet and uncomfortable, so he flips it over with his free hand and tucks it under his coworker’s chin to keep him warm.

"I know I’m touchy-feely with everyone but he’s like that only with me,” Minseok talks quietly, eyes trained downwards. “And I’m not saying physical contact necessarily means something more than friendship but I really thought he–”

He takes a deep breath and Jihoon realizes that he has never talked to anyone about this before. He’s never said the word out loud and now that he finally has to, it’s not in the way he wants to. But Minseok still has more courage than he does, so he lets his heart spill it all out.

“I thought he liked me as more than just a friend. That he likes me the way I do; that he looks at me like I look at him. That he’s just as lonely as I am when we part ways at the bus stop and I watch his back disappear in the distance.”

Jihoon’s grip around Minseok’s fingers tightens subconsciously when his words hit a bit too close to home for comfort.

“But I guess thinking isn’t enough,” Minseok chuckles but it’s devoid of humor. "And I know I don’t have any right to be pissed off at him but I am. I know he wasn’t leading me on, that he’s just a kind-hearted person and that he wants to be a good friend to me. But I don’t need his kindness nor his friendship, I need more.”

Jihoon murmurs in assent. There is only the noise of the busy street far below them when Minseok scoots over and lays his head on Jihoon’s shoulder. His tears finally dry down but Jihoon knows it will be a long time before he comes to terms with his new reality.

“What are you going to do now?” He asks at last, thumb smoothing the rough skin on the other’s knuckles. “Don’t you want to talk to him after this whole shitshow?”

“No,” Minseok is quick to reply. “He made it clear he doesn’t want us to be anything other than friends and I’m not going to be the one to make it awkward between us. I’ll just have to get over my feelings and go back to how it used to be when we first met.”

Deep down Jihoon knows he’d say the same thing in that situation, yet he still hates hearing it.

“What if he said it just because he was scared I’d react weirdly if he told the truth?”

Minseok scoffs and lifts his head from Jihoon’s shoulder to throw an unimpressed look at him, “Even that dumbass knows you’re literally the fruit basket and all the fruit in it, you know that, right?”

Jihoon chokes on his spit and looks away, feeling his ears turn red at the other’s words.

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“Minhyung might not know how I feel about him but I can assure you he’s aware of your obsession with Sanghyeok-hyung,” Minseok rests his head back on Jihoon’s shoulder. “I think everyone but Sanghyeok-hyung knows at this point. How is it that they’re both fucking stupid only when it comes to the people who have feelings for them?”

“Men,” Jihoon supplies and it doesn’t make any sense but he still feels Minseok nod in agreement.

A couple of minutes pass in silence until Jihoon remembers the posters.

“What are you going to do about the rumors?” He asks carefully. “I heard people were looking at both of you weirdly but I guess they’re going to forget about it soon just like they did with every previous scandal.”

Minseok sighs for what feels like the hundredth time today, “Honestly, I don’t care at this point. Since this asshole rejected me without even letting me confess first, I’ll let him handle it and I’ll pretend I don’t hear my nosy colleagues whispering behind my back.”

“Sounds good,” Jihoon replies quietly. “You know you can come to me if you need my help, right? I know we haven’t known each other for that long but I swear I’ll keep my mouth shut, so you can be as honest as you like.”

Minhyung always says Minseok pouts like a sad puppy and Jihoon has to agree, now that he sees it for himself.

“Thank you so much,” Minseok’s voice wobbles and his eyes fill with tears but Jihoon laughs because they’re no longer ones of sadness. “The others know how I feel but I’m too afraid they’ll find it awkward if I talk about it openly, so I just kept it to myself.”

“You don’t have to thank me,” Jihoon replies quickly. “I’m glad you’re comfortable with sharing more with me.”

Minseok chuckles and the ice around Jihoon’s heart melts a little, “You’re so honest it’s kinda cute. If I didn’t know about your crush on Sanghyeok-hyung, I’d assume you were flirting with me.”

It’s Jihoon’s turn to scoff. Minseok only smiles at him and when he lays his head back on his shoulder, Jihoon rests his on top, cheek pressed against his soft hair.

“I’m glad we met,” his colleague murmurs. “I hope you and Sanghyeok-hyung stay close so we can keep hanging out.”

In another world, Jihoon doesn’t have feelings for his colleague and doesn’t need to think before confidently replying that they will.

In this one, he is in love with Sanghyeok so he settles for a quiet “I hope so, too.”

But hope is a dangerous thing for a coward like Jihoon to have and he has never been brave when it comes to feelings.

Minhyung’s unconscious rejection of Minseok’s love leaves a deep scar in Jihoon’s heart and he grows scared. It starts slowly with him using stupid excuses to cancel his plans with Sanghyeok, sick one day and too busy the next. Then, he stops picking up his phone and when the other asks him about it at work, Jihoon tries to convince him he’s dealing with family issues. If Sanghyeok is aware that he’s being lied to, he’s too kind to confront him about it.

Jihoon sees it on his face sometimes – a shadow of sadness or maybe disappointment. In moments like these he wants to be honest but the words are confined to his heart with a tight chain, the key to its lock lost the day his hands froze on that metal railing. The fear of unrequited love is worse than the fear of choking on the feelings stuck in his throat. So he swallows the bile and thinks of another excuse.

Christmas comes around and Sanghyeok invites him out to dinner. Jihoon tells him he’s spending the day with his family and his colleague smiles at him warmly, telling him it’s alright and wishing him a Merry Christmas.

Later in the evening, he’s eating the store-bought rice he’s heated up in the microwave and staring at the fake Christmas tree in the living room when he remembers the day he’d told Sanghyeok his family was spending the holidays overseas. Jihoon thinks of him smiling so kindly even when he knew he was being fed a pathetic lie and the rice suddenly feels like chalk in his mouth. That night he goes to bed in an ice-cold room, thoughts too polluted with guilt for him to remember to turn the heating on.

On the next day, Jihoon wakes up with a fever that has his body feeling like it’s being stabbed by thousands of needles. Numb fingers search for his phone and when they finally find it, he calls in sick to work. His manager sighs exasperatedly and has only a couple of seconds to complain about low coverage during the holidays before Jihoon ends the call and drifts into an unsteady sleep.

A few hours later he gets out of bed to take some meds from the kitchen cupboard. It’s an unusually sunny winter day and the soft snow reflects the sunrays, sending them to shine on Jihoon’s bed. He stands in the middle of the apartment, bare feet planted on the cold tiles and stares at the light until his eyes, dry from the high fever, start stinging. His phone rings and he closes the curtains before walking to the nightstand and picking it up.

The name on the display isn’t Lee Sanghyeok, so he answers the call.

“Hello?” His voice echoes weakly through the room.

“Don’t fucking ‘hello’ me,” Minseok scolds and Jihoon has to move the phone away from his ear, the ache already returning to the back of his head. “Care to explain what happened and why you haven’t returned any of Sanghyeok-hyung’s calls? I went to your floor and he kept staring at your desk like you died or something.”

Even being in so much physical pain doesn’t stop Jihoon’s heart from skipping a beat at the thought of his absence worrying his colleague. Then he recalls Sanghyeok’s reaction to his lie and the excitement dies down, making way for his guilt.

“I’m sick,” he replies with a sigh. “I should be back in a few days.”

Minseok scoffs through the phone, “Okay, then call him and tell him, so he can stop acting like a military wife waiting for her husband to come back from war.”

“Why don’t you–”

“Shut up, I’m not telling him anything,” Minseok raises his voice and Jihoon runs a hand through his hair in desperation. “Stop being a pussy and call Sanghyeok-hyung. I’m hanging up.”

The phone beeps, signaling the end of the call, and Jihoon throws it on the bed in annoyance. It bounces twice before landing on the carpet, call history still on the screen. Jihoon sighs and kneels on the ground to pick it up, before sitting down with his back against the bed.

He finds Sanghyeok’s name on the list and his finger hovers over it. When the screen dims he finally presses down, too afraid that if he doesn’t call now, he never will.

The phone rings only twice before he hears a familiar voice from the other side.

“Jihoon-ssi?”

It’s short but Jihoon can’t help but feel like he doesn’t deserve more.

“It’s me,” he whispers with his eyes shut. He draws his knees to his chest and hugs them with his free arm. Clueless about how to continue, he remains silent.

“Is everything alright?” Sanghyeok’s voice is calm but he speaks slowly, as if he’s taming a wild beast.

Jihoon chokes out a desperate laugh at the thought that he isn’t far from that – a scared, wounded creature, confined in the tight space of his own home yet feeling so far away from it. He hopes Sanghyeok can’t hear the shaky breaths he needs to take before he can reply, but it’s in vain – it’s exactly because he can hear them, that he remains silent and waits for Jihoon to reply.

“I got a cold,” he finally says, quietly. “I’m sorry that I didn’t pick up, I was sleeping.”

“Do you need me to come over and bring you something?” Sanghyeok asks and Jihoon is so devastated that the other man still has the time to worry about him after he’d treated him like a stranger for the past two weeks.

“Please don’t come,” Jihoon chokes out and his eyes might be dry but they’re not dry enough. “I’m so sorry, I just can’t–”

Can’t figure out what I want.

Can’t look you in the eye after I answered all of your kindness with radio silence.

Can’t tell you that I’m in love with you.

“I understand,” Sanghyeok replies but there isn’t a trace of disappointment in his voice. Only warmth. “Instead, when you recover and you’re ready, come to my desk after work and let me do one last thing for you.”

“I will,” Jihoon whispers and the line goes silent.

Chapter Text

It’s not a secret that mental health affects one’s physical health, which might be why a whole week goes by before Jihoon recovers fully. He spends seven days chained to his bed, a prisoner of his own thoughts, and he can’t get Sanghyeok’s final words out of his head.

One last thing.

A part of Jihoon – the one responsible for inducing as much self-hatred as possible – tries to convince him that Sanghyeok is mad at him and wants to get out of his life, done with his irrational behavior. And it’s selfish after he spent three weeks treating him like a stranger, but Jihoon doesn’t want to go back to how it was before that trip to Gangneung.

Still, he knows that’s not true. Even without ripping Sanghyeok’s chest open and nestling inside to listen to his heart, he knows that the one he loves is so kind that his words come from a place of respect for Jihoon’s feelings. He had been so distant and cold that Sanghyeok had probably assumed he was no longer wanted around. And Jihoon spends the whole week with his finger hovering over his name, desperate to call and tell him that he is so, so wrong. But he doesn’t know how to, so his thumb never touches the screen before it dims.

Jihoon doesn’t know if it’s a blessing or a curse, but returning to work is inevitable. It’s early in the morning and he’s eating leftover rice for breakfast when his bitter laugh echoes through the kitchen. It’s the first of January – he hasn’t seen Sanghyeok since last year. And today might be the last day he gets to talk to him normally unless he manages to get the apology he’s been writing out in his head for the last few days. That is if Sanghyeok actually accepts it.

Too nervous about today’s outcome, Jihoon works in isolation and avoids any kind of social contact. Sanghyeok’s gaze from across the aisle leaves his body feeling on fire but he remains stubbornly focused on the screen in front of him and pretends it doesn’t affect him. Jihoon tries to convince himself he won’t miss the other’s eyes on him.

On the rooftop his seclusion finally ends when Siwoo sits on the bench next to him, lunchbox on his lap.

“Happy New Year,” his colleague greets cheerfully.

Jihoon’s guilt doesn’t let him look at him and he only nods in response, head hanging low. He wants to speak up but the words are stuck in his throat. He hadn’t picked up a single one of Siwoo’s calls this week.

“Jihoon-ah,” Siwoo sighs, as he places a gloved hand on top of his head, “when exactly are you going to stop being so hard on yourself? Do you realize that people who care about you understand you without needing to hear the words come out of your mouth?”

A sharp inhale before the dam finally breaks, “I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” Jihoon chokes out, face hidden behind his hands. “I wanted to call you and tell you that I’m not okay but I didn’t know how to. And even after I talked to him, I feel like it’s just going to get worse now.”

“What even happened between you and Sanghyeok-hyung?” Jihoon finally looks at Siwoo and he realizes he never got to talk to him after that day all hell broke loose.

When he’s done explaining, his colleague puts his lunchbox on the bench next to him and wraps his arms around Jihoon without a single word. They stay like that for a while, Jihoon’s face buried into the other’s scarf and Siwoo’s fingers playing with the ends of his hair. And Jihoon finally understands that this is what he had needed in the past three weeks while he felt like his world was falling apart and he had somehow managed to do everything wrong.

“You little dummy,” Siwoo finally murmurs in his ear but it’s so much more gentle than his usual playful mocking. “It would be so boring if you knew the answer to everything, don’t you think? Sometimes you don’t get love right from the first time and that’s alright. But you should never regret it, no matter the outcome, so try being honest with your feelings for once.”

He pats Jihoon’s head gently, who only manages to nod again, tears that once stung his eyes now rolling down his cheeks and landing on soft wool.

“What about this – if you get rejected, just call me and I’ll come buy you dinner while you complain about how unfair life is,” Siwoo says before he lets go of Jihoon, only to put his hands on his cheeks and pull him back to look at his face.

When Jihoon’s lips start to wobble and his vision disappears completely behind the tears in his eyes, his colleague laughs cheekily like he always does when he successfully takes on the role of the middle school bully.

“Oh, c’mon–”

“I don’t wanna get rejected,” Jihoon wails and he will probably be really embarrassed about it later but right now the only scenario that occupies his head is Sanghyeok standing in front of him, eyes full of pity, and saying something along the lines of ‘you’re a great guy, Jihoon-ssi, but…,’

And Siwoo is obviously not on his side, since he can’t stop laughing and shaking his head in something akin to disbelief while he wipes the tears from his cheeks. That only upsets Jihoon more which in turn amuses Siwoo further. It’s a vicious circle until Jihoon finally calms down and moves away so his colleague can start eating his lunch.

“What if he really rejects me?” Jihoon asks quietly. “I don’t know if I can keep acting normally around him if that happens.”

Siwoo chews his food, seemingly deep in thought, before he replies, “I’m not going to say he won’t because I’m not Sanghyeok-hyung and I can’t be sure how he feels but I promise you that even if he does, it won’t be the end of the world for a long time.”

“How do you know?” It’s a childish reply but Jihoon doesn’t have the strength to care about being mature right now.

His colleague turns to him with an embarrassed smile on his face.

“Cause I got rejected twice before my ex finally agreed to date me,” Siwoo looks down and stuffs the last spoonful of rice in his mouth before he shakes his head, as if reminiscing about that time. “What an asshole Jaehyuk was and yet I still waste my time missing him.”

“But you guys still dated,” Jihoon retorts.

“And how did that benefit me in any way?” Siwoo scoffs. The lid of the lunchbox closes with a click and he looks into the distance. “I don’t really mean that, by the way. I don’t regret falling in love with him even though we ended on bad terms. That’s actually the only thing I wish I did differently.”

“If you were okay with remaining friends then why did you ask him out twice, then?

Siwoo laughs at his call-out, “Because I knew this motherfucker was testing me, that’s why. He wanted me, maybe even more than I wanted him, but he was a crazy bastard who took everything as a challenge, so he was checking if I was serious about him.”

“He was lucky his research subject was another crazy bastard like you,” Jihoon scoffs in disbelief.

“And you’re lucky Sanghyeok-hyung is a literal angel that fell from heaven to bless us with his presence,” Siwoo chuckles and Jihoon has to smile because it’s the truth, after all. His colleague looks at him with a knowing smile. “Still, I was fine with remaining Jaehyuk’s friend but if you can’t be anything less than Sanghyeok-hyung’s lover, then that’s okay too, you know. There’s no formula to love.”

For the first time in a long time, the heavy chain around Jihoon’s heart drops with a loud clang. And once unbound, he can’t even begin to understand how he ever believed that he was going to survive with his feelings locked away like a dirty secret only he knew. He had been so selfish and scared, so hell-bent on protecting his own heart, that he had forgotten that the least courtesy he owed Sanghyeok was his honesty.

His biggest sin was pretending that Sanghyeok wouldn’t be gentle no matter what his answer was. That he wouldn’t smile warmly at him even if the words that came out of his mouth weren’t what Jihoon wanted to hear. That he wouldn’t continue treating him with kindness the same way he had ever since the first time Jihoon walked into that meeting room, clammy hands grasping the end of his new suit jacket.

“I understand,” Jihoon finally says and the honesty in his words melts away the last remnants of the doubt and regret that had polluted his heart for days. “Thank you, hyung.”

He looks at Siwoo whose content gaze is already on him, “Don’t mention it, dummy.”

And Jihoon finally realizes that even when the sun goes down today and tomorrow remains a mystery, he can be sure of one thing. He’s going to be alright.

Time flows like a river but Jihoon’s day goes by like a mountain spring, carving through ancient rocks along its path.

By the time the cat clock on his desk shows five, he’s already run his hand through his hair about a thousand times, creating something similar to a bird’s nest on his head. He’s also made sure to eat only one single cookie from the vending machine so that he doesn’t throw up from nerves, which leaves him so hungry that he starts hoping Sanghyeok will take him out for dinner so that he can at least finally eat if he gets dramatically rejected.

“Jihoon-ssi?” A voice pulls him out of his trance and his head snaps up.

Being under so much stress also means that his brain is mostly turned off, so it takes him approximately five seconds to realize he’s staring at Sanghyeok like he’s seeing him for the first time. He gets up from his chair at record speed, sending it spinning at the other side of his desk, but his eyes never leave the other man’s face. He’s missed Sanghyeok for so, so long and now that he finally has to face him, the words get stuck in his throat.

“I–” He starts even though he has no clue what he wants to say. I’m so sorry for ghosting you but I have a valid reason, which is that I’m so incredibly in love with you that I got scared you would reject me and never want to see me again, so I thought I’d just hide from you for the rest of my life even though I can barely survive a single day without seeing your face.

Thankfully, Sanghyeok is so kind that he doesn’t allow Jihoon to embarrass himself by saying something similar to that, even when he doesn’t actually know what’s currently going on inside his head.

“Let’s talk later,” he suggests, the small smile on his face setting off an automatic nod from Jihoon even as the ringing in his ears gets so loud he can barely hear anything. “I want to take you somewhere, if you don’t mind.”

They leave the office and Jihoon follows the other man like a lost puppy, head hanging low and feet dragging against the pavement. Once they’re on the bus, he steals glances at Sanghyeok in the window until their eyes meet and he looks away, too afraid he’ll really run his mouth if he sees one more warm smile.

Sanghyeok remains silent but Jihoon is done wallowing in self-pity so he knows it’s not out of anger. They’ve always been comfortable in each other’s silence, after all.

He contemplates asking where they’re going but before he opens his mouth he realizes he doesn’t need to know. He’d go anywhere if it meant having Sanghyeok next to him. So he stays quiet and focuses on the way slim fingers brush against his every time the bus stops.

They get off at a familiar stop, as snowflakes find their new home on their coats before melting forever. When his glasses get too wet, Sanghyeok takes them off to gently rub the water off with his scarf, and Jihoon makes the mistake of staring at the snow crystals on his eyelashes. He looks away because looking at Sanghyeok is like sticking your hands under hot water in the winter – it brings him momentary relief but at some point, he starts burning with each passing second.

When Sanghyeok finally stops, Jihoon is so lost in his own thoughts that he keeps walking ahead, nose buried in his scarf as he looks at his feet. Suddenly, cold fingers grab his hand, forcing him to halt and turn around.

A store sign flickers behind Sanghyeok. It’s the first day of the new year and the street is empty, so Jihoon can only look at the face he’d been avoiding for so long that he’d almost forgotten the way it gently erases every worry from his mind.

They stand like that, hand in hand, whilst the snow keeps falling around them and Jihoon can’t understand how he had been so stupid to believe he could ever be fine with pretending nothing ever happened. Suddenly, it doesn’t matter what he will be after today, as long as it means he can keep looking at Sanghyeok and burn.

“We’re here,” he hears his colleague say but he can’t even take his eyes off his face to see where ‘here’ is. Even when the other man looks at the shop next to them, Jihoon can’t move. He doesn’t want to move. “But I think it’s closed now since I messed up with the buses and it took us way too long.”

Jihoon hadn’t even noticed they’d gotten on the wrong bus. But it doesn’t matter where he says it. He just has to say it.

“Maybe we can–”

“Sanghyeok-hyung,” it’s the first time Jihoon has ever interrupted him. It’s also the first time he’s allowed himself to address him so intimately and the other man’s head snaps back to him, eyebrows raised in surprise. “I really need to tell you something.”

“Mn,” Sanghyeok replies softly. Where blood once thumped in Jihoon’s ears now there is only silence, “you can tell me anything.”

Jihoon is never one to oppose him, so he takes a deep breath and does just what is asked of him.

“One of the first memories I have of joining the company is entering the meeting room and my eyes snapping to you like a magnet. I didn’t know a single thing about you but I thought you were scary yet cool, cool but also a bit scary. It’s probably because we never really talked that I got so guarded around you after that. I wanted to be more than just another one of your colleagues but I confused your composure with indifference and grew hostile. I thought that if you couldn’t be my friend, then I’d rather have you as my enemy.”

Jihoon’s fingers go numb from the cold and he adjusts his grip on Sanghyeok’s hand so it doesn’t slip away from his. He takes a shaky breath and licks his lips before continuing.

“In Gangneung I realized I was a massive fool because the few hours we spent together will probably remain in my memory forever. You looked so content exploring the city even if it had to be with a stranger like me and I suddenly felt so desperate to see you happy around me even if it was for just one more time. But you were so kind and you let me take you to places you’d probably already been to a thousand times; in return, you showed me new things and you have no idea how much that meant– how much it means to me.”

Jihoon’s voice gets so heavy with emotion that it almost cracks. He’s terrified of the outcome of the words that slip past his lips yet they feel so innate, so alike his own breath. So he keeps his eyes trained on Sanghyeok and lets himself breathe until there is nothing left in his lungs.

“I love you,” he whispers not because he’s scared of the word anymore, but because he has waited for far too long. “It might be cruel to say it now after I spent weeks avoiding you because I was so afraid to risk it all for my selfishness. But I need you to know how I feel and even if you can’t reciprocate my love, I’ll be fine with time. I promise I’ll try my hardest to get over it and go back to–”

Jihoon never gets to finish before he gets yanked forward by the hand that holds Sanghyeok’s. And then every single thought disappears from his head, as in the cold winter afternoon soft lips press against his.

And Jihoon has never kissed anyone before but somehow he is sure this is the best first time he could ever have.

Sanghyeok kisses him gently like he knows all of Jihoon’s worries like the back of his hand and they melt away like ice cream in the heat. His fingers find the back of Jihoon’s neck and they’re so very cold yet they burn his skin much like summer sun rays do.

When Sanghyeok tries to pull away, Jihoon wraps his arms around his waist needily and whines into the kiss, too greedy to care about keeping his cool and pretending like he hasn’t been imagining this for as long as he can remember. Sanghyeok’s lips curl into a smile against his and it leaves him so breathless that he ends up being the one to pull away first, still a bit conflicted on whether he needs to breathe to survive or if kissing Sanghyeok until he drops dead is enough.

Jihoon keeps his eyes closed for a moment, too afraid he’ll look up and find out it’s all an illusion of his love-sick brain. But when he finally opens them, Sanghyeok is still right in front of him, smiling fondly as the snowflakes continue landing on his cheeks, turning them a beautiful red. Or maybe he’s blushing. Jihoon hopes he is, at least.

“Get over me?” Sanghyeok whispers and his breath ghosts against his lips. “Hardly.”

And Jihoon doesn’t even have to think of an answer because Sanghyeok kisses him again, this time harder so that Jihoon almost stumbles back, knees already weak from shock. It’s cold but it doesn’t matter – all he feels is Sanghyeok’s lips on his, his hands buried in his hair, his chest pressed against him.

Jihoon’s brain turns into mush and he only knows he’s completely content with standing in the snow for the rest of his life if it means he gets to continue kissing Sanghyeok until they turn into ice statues. That guy can even put them on posters and stick them on the glass doors of the office, for all he cares. He’d be doing him a favor by letting everyone know Jihoon was blessed by the gods since he’s allowed to hold an angel in his arms until the cold takes both of them. Maybe he can convince Sanghyeok to help him set a new record for the longest kiss. That would benefit him greatly.

Before he gets to do a test run, a loud bang comes from the store window next to them and they both turn towards it, breaking apart much to Jihoon’s disappointment.

A black cat lies on a bookshelf behind the window, staring at them with something he assumes to be judgment, its paw still on the glass as if it was trying to throw a punch at them. Jihoon has his own experiences with homophobic cats but they were always hostile only towards Siwoo, so he can't help but feel a little bit embarrassed. Getting scolded by a cat for kissing a colleague is a first for him.

He turns to Sanghyeok who looks back at him at the same time, so obvious in the way he tries to hold back his laughter.

Jihoon groans in annoyance and the other man finally breaks, giggles spilling from his mouth without restraint. Sanghyeok’s hands keep playing with his hair when he buries his face in his chest until he finally calms down, all while Jihoon stares down at him, completely smitten. He doesn’t understand why the homophobic cat amuses Sanghyeok so much but he supposes he doesn’t need to, as long as he continues laughing in his arms.

When the other man manages to catch his breath, he lifts his head from Jihoon’s chest only to look up at him, a warm smile adorning his face. It’s at that moment that Jihoon finally realizes how fucked he is because if a small grin from Sanghyeok is enough to make his knees buckle, then he’s pretty sure their next kiss is going to send him into cardiac arrest. And he knows he’s lost it for sure because the thought of it all is somehow not bad at all.

“I don’t think this cat is going to let us in the next time we come,” Sanghyeok says cheekily and Jihoon realizes he doesn’t even know where they are, so he turns to the shop.

He looks up at the sign of the store to see a fat cat lying on top of a thick tome. Jihoon’s head snaps back to the one on the bookshelf and its eyes glow like car headlights, much like they had the first time he’d seen it on a snowy evening in December. Back then he’d thought it was just like Sanghyeok, stern on the outside yet silly on the inside.

“You wanted to take me here?” He asks with the little breath he has left and Sanghyeok only nods in response.

And Jihoon wants to say so many things but he can’t find the words, so he just kisses him again. Judging by the way Sanghyeok smiles against his lips, Jihoon thinks he must understand.

“You’re going to have to work on expressing your thoughts with words before you suck the life out of me,” Sanghyeok chuckles after he finally pushes him back playfully.

“I’m good at talking,” Jihoon quickly retorts before realizing his radio silence in the last few weeks doesn’t really help prove his point. “Or at least decent at it. I’d rather learn something I don’t know much about.”

Sanghyeok raises an eyebrow at that, as he finally lets go of Jihoon so he can pick up the briefcase he’d dropped on the ground.

“As in?” He asks and Jihoon scoffs because he knows it’s pretend naivety.

“Not only did I have my first kiss interrupted by a stupid cat, but I also have to spell it out for you?” He asks and Sanghyeok nods in reply but the smile on his face is so mischievous, as he mumbles something about seniority and respect. Jihoon thinks he has a lot more to learn about his prime and proper colleague. Through words and maybe through actions. They say repetition is the key to learning a new skill, after all. “How about we continue the lesson at my apartment? It’s warmer and there are no cats.”

“Be warned that I’m a strict teacher,” Sanghyeok says, as he interlocks their fingers and tugs Jihoon towards the bus stop they’d gotten off at what seems like an eternity ago. “Maybe with my help, you’ll get out of Masters.”

Jihoon stops in his tracks, pulling Sanghyeok back with him. He pouts and the latter adds insult to injury by not even trying to hide his laugh.

“That’s not what I meant,” Jihoon sulks because he’s so desperate that he doesn’t even care about embarrassing himself anymore.

Sanghyeok giggles again and Jihoon can’t help but stare because even his smile is heart-shaped. It’s a personal attack on his own heart so he pouts even harder while thinking how unfair it is that he didn’t get to kiss him before today.

“I know,” Sanghyeok replies cheekily. “You’re just so fun to tease.”

Jihoon follows him again and the pout disappears from his face when the other man turns to him, still smiling but this time with an unfamiliar glint in his eyes.

“I can,” Sanghyeok takes the glasses off his face to wipe the water off in his coat. Then he puts them back on and Jihoon gulps loudly because he shouldn’t find this as hot as he does. “Teach you, I mean.”

And Jihoon has always hated school but he has an inkling that this next lesson might change his mind.