Chapter Text
The problem started, as most problems did, with Nano laughing too loudly in the hallway.
Not a normal laugh—no, this was the kind of laugh that echoed, sharp and delighted, the kind that immediately made several heads turn and one person groaned in preemptive regret.
Dylan had been standing near the coffee station at SYNC, flipping through a tablet and half-listening to Thame explaining something about an upcoming schedule shift, when a voice—new, unfamiliar—cut in far too smoothly.
“Hey,” the staffer said, leaning casually against the counter. “You’re Dylan, right?”
Dylan glanced up. Polite. Neutral. “Yeah.”
“I’m Jamie. Just joined the creative team last week.” He smiled, the kind that lingered a second too long. “You’re… even more intimidating up close.”
Nano, passing by with a folder, stopped mid-step.
He leaned back in slow motion, eyes wide, mouth open in exaggerated horror.
“Oh no,” Nano whispered loudly. “Oh no.”
Thame closed his eyes like he’d just lost a chess match three moves ahead.
Dylan, however, barely reacted. He gave a short nod and turned back to his screen. “Nice to meet you.”
Nano craned his neck, watching intently.
“Is this happening?” he muttered. “Am I witnessing the birth of a workplace HR violation?”
Jamie didn’t take the hint.
“So,” Jamie continued, undeterred, “do you always look this serious, or is that just for work?”
Dylan sighed softly—not annoyed, just tired. “I’m busy.”
Nano slapped a hand over his own mouth, shoulders shaking. He mouthed oh my god behind Jamie’s back, eyes darting between Dylan and Thame like he was watching a live drama unfold.
Someone further down the hallway whispered, “Dude, don’t.”
Thame opened his eyes again and studied Jamie properly this time.
The posture.
The confidence.
The complete disregard for the very obvious social cues.
Suspicion settled in his chest like a familiar weight.
Jamie ignored the warning.
“I could grab you coffee sometime,” he said. “You know. Get to know each other outside of—”
Dylan finally looked up again.
This time, his expression sharpened just a fraction—not anger, not irritation. Just enough to signal a line.
“No, thanks,” he said calmly, stepping around Jamie and gently—but firmly—pressing two fingers to his shoulder to move him aside. Not aggressive. Just unmistakably dismissive. “You’re in my way.”
Nano gasped.
“A physical boundary,” he whispered reverently. “Beautiful. Iconic.”
Jamie blinked, clearly not expecting that.
Dylan walked off without another word, already typing on his tablet again like the interaction had barely registered.
To Dylan, that was the end of it.
Nano, however, pivoted on his heel and immediately sidled up to Thame.
“Should we tell Jun,” Nano whispered far too loudly.
Thame didn’t answer right away.
He watched Jamie straighten, irritation flickering across his face before smoothing back into something practiced. Watched the way his eyes followed Dylan’s retreating figure.
“…I don’t like that,” Thame said finally.
Nano grinned. “Oh, neither do I. Do you think Jun would like it?”
Thame pulled out his phone.
Nano leaned over his shoulder. “What are you texting him?”
Thame typed calmly.
Thame: Heads up. New staff flirting with Dylan.
Thame: Dylan handled it, but… just so you know.
Nano clasped his hands together. “Ah. Chaos has been summoned.”
Jun arrived ten minutes later.
Literally crashed into the hallway.
Someone yelped as Jun skidded around a corner too fast, nearly colliding with a rolling equipment cart.
“Sorry—sorry—have you seen—” Jun stopped mid-sentence.
Because there Dylan was again.
And so was Jamie.
Jamie had somehow convinced himself round two was a good idea.
“I’m just saying,” Jamie was smiling again, gesturing lightly, “you don’t always have to be so—”
Jun’s jaw tightened.
His shoulders squared.
Nano, spotting Jun from across the hall, slapped Thame’s arm.
“Oh this is better than rehearsal.”
Jun took one step forward.
Then another.
Every instinct in him screamed to intervene, to pull Dylan away, to say something—
And then Dylan looked up.
Saw Jun.
His expression changed immediately.
Not startled.
Not guilty.
Just… softened.
“Jun,” Dylan said, like he was relieved. “There you are.”
Before Jun could even open his mouth, Dylan turned back to Jamie.
“I told you no,” Dylan said evenly. “I’m busy.”
Then he reached out, caught Jun’s wrist without hesitation, and tugged him forward.
“We’re late,” Dylan added, already walking. “Come on.”
Jun let himself be dragged.
He didn’t resist. Didn’t speak.
He just stared—slightly stunned—as Dylan pulled him down the hallway like this was the most natural thing in the world.
Jamie was left standing there, mid-breath, watching them go.
Nano saluted him on the way past.
“Better luck next lifetime,” Nano chirped.
Once they were out of earshot, Jun finally found his voice.
“…You okay?” he asked.
Dylan hummed. “Yeah.”
Jun searched his face. “He bothering you?”
“Not really.” Dylan glanced at him. “Why? You look like you were about to commit a crime.”
Jun scoffed. “I was concerned.”
Dylan smiled faintly, squeezing Jun’s wrist once before letting go. “I can handle myself.”
“I know,” Jun said softly.
And he did.
That was the thing.
They walked into their next schedule side by side, Jun still slightly bristling, Dylan entirely unbothered.
Behind them, Nano leaned against the wall, grinning like a menace.
“Wow,” he said to Thame. “Jun didn’t even get to be jealous properly.”
Thame sighed. “Give it time.”
Nano laughed. “Oh, I am.”
---
Pepper had been halfway through dessert when his peace was destroyed.
Not metaphorically. Literally.
The dessert was chocolate—dark, expensive, artfully plated with a drizzle that Gam had declared “necessary for the experience.” Pepper had taken one bite, nodded in quiet approval, and was just about to say something mature and romantic like you were right when a familiar presence sat down across from them with the weight and emotional density of an incoming storm.
Jun.
Pepper stared at him.
Jun stared back.
Gam blinked between them. “…Oh! Hi, Jun.”
Pepper didn’t blink. Didn’t breathe. “You weren’t invited.”
Jun rested his chin in his palm like this was his table, his date, his emotional support restaurant. “I need advice.”
Pepper looked down at his dessert like it had betrayed him. “We are on a date.”
Gam perked up immediately, eyes sparkling. “Is it about work? Or feelings?”
Jun grimaced. “Why are those the same thing with you?”
Gam laughed, delighted. “Because you’re terrible at both.”
Pepper closed his eyes and counted to three.
Jun leaned forward. “A staff member flirted with Dylan.”
Pepper’s eyes snapped open.
Gam’s widened too—but not in alarm. In interest. The same expression she wore when someone mentioned drama that wasn’t hers.
“Oh?” she said brightly. “What kind of flirt?”
Jun frowned. “Persistent. Ignored warnings. Confident. Annoying.”
Nano-coded, Pepper thought distantly. He put his fork down carefully. “And?”
“And Dylan didn’t care,” Jun muttered. “He brushed him off like he was furniture.”
Gam tilted her head. “That’s… good?”
“That’s the problem,” Jun said flatly.
Pepper stared at him. “That is not a problem.”
Jun scowled. “He didn’t even tell me.”
Gam hummed, thoughtful. “Did you ask?”
Jun opened his mouth. Closed it. “…No.”
Pepper exhaled slowly, the sound of a man watching his dessert melt while his patience followed. “Jun. Are you upset because Dylan was flirted with, or because you weren’t included?”
Jun crossed his arms and looked away.
Gam smiled gently, the way she did when she was about to say something emotionally devastating but nice about it. “You know, when there’s no label, people assume availability.”
Jun frowned. “We didn’t say we were available.”
“You also didn’t say you weren’t,” Gam replied kindly, like she was explaining a concept to a confused golden retriever.
Pepper nodded. “From the outside? You two look close. Intimate. Domestic.” He paused. “But undefined.”
Jun sulked. “Dylan doesn’t mind.”
“That doesn’t mean you don’t,” Pepper said quietly.
Jun picked at the edge of the tablecloth. “…I trust him.”
“I know,” Pepper said. “But trust doesn’t make other people respectful. It just means you’re not worried about Dylan. You should be worried about everyone else.”
Gam leaned forward, resting her chin on her hands. “Have you considered asking Dylan to be your boyfriend?”
Jun stiffened like he’d been personally insulted by the concept. “That feels… wrong.”
Pepper blinked. “Excuse me?”
Jun waved a hand. “Not wrong-bad. Just—small. Simplistic.”
Pepper stared at him in genuine disbelief. “I am Gam’s boyfriend.”
Gam immediately leaned over and kissed Pepper’s cheek. “And an excellent one.”
Pepper flushed despite himself, ears going pink. “That word matters,” he insisted, glaring at Jun. “It doesn’t shrink what you have. It defines it so other people don’t trample over it.”
Jun groaned, slumping lower in his chair. “I don’t want to reduce us.”
Gam’s expression softened. “Labels don’t reduce things,” she said gently. “They protect them.”
Jun went quiet.
Pepper took the moment to steal another bite of dessert. It tasted vaguely like vindication.
After a long beat, Jun muttered, “I could just… remove the staff.”
Pepper choked on his water.
Gam patted his back, laughing. “No corporate crimes on date night.”
“Absolutely not,” Pepper wheezed once he recovered. “Jamie’s competent. And that’s not how you handle jealousy.”
Jun deflated. “Then what do I do?”
Pepper stared at him.
Really stared.
Then, with the calm resignation of a man who had accepted his fate as the responsible one, he pulled out his phone and typed.
Pepper: Please come retrieve your emotionally spiraling CEO.
Pepper: Immediately.
Jun’s phone buzzed seconds later.
He glanced down.
Dylan: Come pick me up?
Jun shot to his feet so fast his chair screeched across the floor, drawing stares from three nearby tables.
“I have to go,” Jun said.
Gam waved cheerfully. “Good luck! Try not to overthrow HR!”
Jun was already halfway out the door.
Silence settled.
Pepper slumped back in his chair, rubbing his face. “…Am I a good boyfriend?”
Gam laughed, reaching across the table to lace their fingers together. “You’re the only one who doesn’t realize you are.”
Pepper glanced at their intertwined hands, then at the half-melted dessert.
“…Next time,” he said solemnly, “don't tell Nano where we at.”
Gam giggled, before kissing his cheek, “Even so, he'll find out by himself.”
Jun arrived at SYNC breathless, scanning the entrance on instinct alone.
His eyes found Dylan immediately.
Dylan was standing beneath the lobby lights, jacket slung over one shoulder, phone in hand, posture loose in the way it only ever was when he was waiting for Jun. The moment their gazes met, something in Dylan softened—his shoulders dropping, his mouth tilting into a small smile he didn’t bother hiding.
Jun walked straight to him and pressed a kiss to his cheek without thinking.
Dylan didn’t flinch. Didn’t even act surprised. He just turned his head slightly, the corner of his mouth brushing Jun’s temple as if it was the most natural greeting in the world.
“You look stressed,” Dylan said, studying him.
Jun exhaled, the tension he hadn’t realized he was holding leaking out all at once. “I was.”
Dylan lifted a hand and, without asking, smoothed Jun’s hair back into place—fingers gentle, practiced. He fixed a strand that had fallen into Jun’s eyes, then another, brows knitting slightly like he took the task very seriously.
“There,” Dylan murmured. “You ran.”
Jun watched him, chest tightening. “I did.”
Dylan’s fingers lingered for a beat too long before dropping. “Dinner?”
Jun nodded immediately. “Yeah.”
That was when the doors slid open behind them.
“Oh,” Jamie said, stepping out. “Perfect timing.”
Jun stilled.
Dylan felt it—the shift in Jun’s body, the way his back straightened, the way his jaw set. Dylan didn’t turn right away. He already knew who it was.
Jamie’s gaze flicked between them, lingering for just a second too long on the way Jun stood close, how Dylan hadn’t moved away.
“I was wondering,” Jamie said, smile returning, “if you wanted to grab dinner with me—”
“No,” Dylan said immediately.
The word landed clean. Decisive.
Jamie blinked.
Dylan didn’t raise his voice. Didn’t soften it either. His expression was calm, almost bored. “I already have plans.”
Behind him, Jun’s lips curved into a smile he didn’t bother hiding.
Jamie opened his mouth, then closed it again.
Dylan reached back without looking.
Jun’s hand was already there.
Their fingers found each other easily, slipping together, intertwining like it was muscle memory—like they’d done this a thousand times before and would do it a thousand more. Dylan gave Jun’s hand a small squeeze, grounding, deliberate.
Jun met Jamie’s gaze over Dylan’s shoulder.
If Dylan’s rejection had been calm, Jun’s look was not.
There was a sharpness in his eyes now—possessive, unapologetic. Not angry. Just clear. The kind of look that said you miscalculated, and worse, you should have known better.
Jamie felt it.
A prickle ran down his spine, something cold and instinctive. He swallowed, suddenly aware of how close he’d come to something he didn’t want to be near.
Dylan, oblivious—or pretending to be—tilted his head toward Jun. “Let’s go.”
They walked away together.
Dylan didn’t let go of Jun’s hand.
As they passed under the lights, Dylan absently brushed his thumb over Jun’s knuckles, a soft, reassuring motion. Jun leaned in just slightly, shoulder brushing Dylan’s arm, like he was still anchoring himself.
Jamie didn’t follow.
Jun squeezed Dylan’s hand, heart finally steadying.
No label.
No announcement.
Just Dylan choosing him—openly, easily, without hesitation.
Dylan glanced at him, catching the look on his face. “You okay?”
Jun nodded, smiling. “Yeah.”
Dylan’s lips curved in response, gentle and private. He tightened their joined fingers once more, as if to say I’m here.
No line crossed.
No label needed.
It was just them.
And Jun realized—maybe it always had been.