Chapter Text
Baek Saheon might be going insane—or maybe he'd been contaminated?—because those are the only circumstances that could possibly explain what he's seeing right now.
His psycho roommate is getting chastised. By a sweet-looking ginger man. That Saheon has never seen before. And it's actually fucking working? What the fuck?
He shuffles back behind the corner he'd just turned, wanting to avoid any maniacal consequences that bastard might pin on him if he were to be seen. But then Saheon's eternal tormentor does the same: takes an aborted step back. His brows pinch in discomfort behind his horned mask even as the ginger man genially pats him on the shoulder.
Baek Saheon swears he can hear angels sing.
He watches his fucked-in-the-head batchmate slump in defeat, catching the tail end of a shudder as he pulls away from the ginger man's hold and enters the nearest door. The sign he'd placed over the handle before entering clatters in the now silent corridor and Saheon squints to read it. 'Fox Counselling Room'...?
Trust that selfish bastard to have stolen it for his personal use!
Saheon breathes out a sigh of relief—now that he can no longer be caught by the most significant barrier to his continued healthy existence—and steps back around the corner. He's on his way back to the dorms after an assignment and, while he still yearns for the safety of his blissfully private shoebox bedroom, he now needs something else first.
Saheon watches the man shake his head like he'd been chiding a misbehaving toddler and not an unstable flight risk. A strand of auburn hair falls from behind his ear, as if trying to tempt Saheon closer with just the desire to touch. The man reaches to brush it back behind his ear, fingers nudging the refined, red tassel hanging from it as their eyes meet across the passage.
Saheon speeds up his steps just a touch. The man hasn't started moving yet, but he doesn't want to risk missing him.
Kim Soleum, notorious headcase, had been managed and directed with an unshakeable demeanour more suited to a kindergarten teacher than a peripheral coworker.
It was entirely unbelievable. There is no way in hell Saheon would ever have believed such drivel if it had come out of anyone else's mouth, but… he'd seen it with his own eyes—well, eye—so it had to be real.
He briefly considers lifting his eye-patch to make absolute certain that this man—who looks as if he was a gift from heaven itself—isn't a hallucination of some kind (perhaps spurred on by Saheon's recent loss of sleep due to repeated LINE messenger nightmares?) but, he reasons—to himself only, entirely in his head and persuasively high on sleep deprivation—that he wouldn't want to startle the ginger man he is prematurely beginning to think of as his life's saviour.
And so instead, he summons the innocent air that serves him well when asking the noonas in his Squad for favours (and noonas outside of work on dates).
"Um, excuse me! Mister…?" He begins, already working on wheedling the man's name from this interaction.
Up close he can see that the man's lower lids are lined in red pigment, not quite eyeliner, but just as striking against his the blue of his eyes. The way the red shows through his light eyelashes, even as he blinks, steals Saheon's focus for just a moment; yet when he meets the man's eyes again, they seem to glow with mirth, as if to say: caught you.
The molten tone of his voice nearly causes Saheon to miss his reply, resonant like the subway ads for Swiss chocolate he's been hearing since escaping moving to Seoul. Mentally scrambling, he manages to process the meaning in time to respond.
"A-ah, Yuwon-ssi then." Even though the ginger man—Yuwon-ssi—had given him only his first name voluntarily, Saheon can't quite bring himself to jump straight into familiarity.
"And you are…?" Yuwon-ssi prompts, at Saheon's near frozen silence. The tiny, golden bells on his ears jingle with the amused tilt of his head and Saheon find himself snapped back to reality (for whatever short period his mind will allow him this time).
"Baek Saheon," he responds, this time without too-significant a delay, "from the Field Exploration Team in Squad F." He tries to manifest his usual charming smile, the one that exudes the harmlessness of a prey animal, but it's much harder to solidify in the face of his persistent distraction.
His strategy—which he employs regularly and reliably to his own benefit—is proving to be quite ineffective here. Not due to any particular shrewdness of Yuwon-ssi, he's sure—no, Saheon has easily managed to mould much slyer men to his whims with this act—but due to a sudden and inexplicable ineptitude that seems to overtake him each time Yuwon-ssi meets his gaze.
Saheon reopens the possibility of examining this man with his transplanted eye. After all, this kind of effect could very well be supernatural. Nothing in his life has ever managed to throw him off this significantly until now. But, once again, the idea is short-lived.
This man is clearly a civilian employee: no mask, no equipment and the kind of academia-coloured wardrobe that could almost be described as 'cozy'. And on top of that, his crazy bastard of a roommate hadn't looked distracted in the least during his conversation with Yuwon-ssi just moments earlier, so seriously considering a supernatural effect would just be foolish.
Even in a world like theirs, where terrors stalk behind each corner, Occam's Razor is a sound principle. The simplest explanation is that Saheon is just tired; stressed from an intense exploration and incredibly off his game. That's why his attention is waning. That's all.
But not off his game enough to miss critical information.
"Oh, me?" Yuwon-ssi answers gamely, in what Saheon realises had been becoming a longer-than-appropriate conversational silence, "I'm a contractor of a sort, but I wouldn't want to bore you with the details. I'm sure you have more important things to get to, Field Officer-nim."
Something about the way this man says his address—like he isn't used to the formality—sets Saheon's heart beating faster, though from unease or something else, he isn't sure. Even so, he nods in response, grateful that the man wasn't going to subject him to what were bound to be the dull details of operational Daydream beurocracy. Perhaps there are more reasons than just the obvious to form a relationship with him: being perceptive of others' interest is a valuable skill to have even in regular corporate and—with skills like that—he's bound to earn himself a good position that Saheon can exploit.
There are no other reasons that he wants to see this man again.
With that, he's laid the foundations for cultivating a deeper relationship. As much as he wants to get out from under his bat-shit crazy roommate's thumb as soon as possible, it wouldn't work at all if he rushed it. People—especially those as perceptive as Yuwon-ssi—tended to trust those who wanted things from them right away much less and Baek Saheon couldn't afford anything less than Yuwon-ssi's full faith in him if he wanted to put the man's skills to work.
His freedom is on the horizon.
There's only one more thing he needs before he leaves to get his well-earned rest: reassurance that he will be able to find the other man again.
"Ah, if you don't mind, Yuwon-ssi," he starts, affecting a shyness that should colour his stilted conversational skills until now as more endearing than socially inept, "would you… tell me what floor you work on? I'd love to speak again sometime if you're not against it!"
The other man just smiles up at him and leans forward, as if about to deliver a conspiratorial secret, "Don't worry Saheon-ssi, we'll see each other again soon."
Eyes curved with something akin to mischief, he reaches up—over his goat mask—and pats Saheon on the head in serene reassurance; disappearing in the opposite direction to the dorms before Saheon can process what has happened.
My first name-?
The only thing that keeps a humiliated flush from his cheeks is the strictly learned restraint that comes with having to police himself in every waking moment so that his murderous flatmate doesn't kill him in his sleep.
Dully, he feels a thought surface through the warm haze.
Am I a kindergartener?
Saheon wonders if that kind of reaction is within the bounds of normal for someone you've just met. He's never been the best judge, but even then he's sure it isn't.
He wants to chalk it up to his innocent act reminding the other man of a younger sibling—perhaps a junior he'd been close to—to earn such a gesture. But the way his name had rolled off the ginger's tongue was still ringing through his head.
An untold amount of time later, he manages to pull himself back to reality, but Yuwon-ssi is already long gone.
If anything, that behaviour is an indication to the of ingratiation he's cultivated in such a short period of time.
It was a good sign.
He decides to leave it at that. But leaving this interaction alone is not a plan his mind is on board with: replaying snippets of the other man's face; voice; touch at the most inconvenient times.
Kim Soleum, or rather Supervisor Roe Deer, was such a handful, really…
Enduring this level of contamination and still refusing to visit the Fox Counselling Office? Not a wise decision. There was no in which he allowed that to continue, not when Roe Deer was turning out to be one of his most valued—and most interesting—employees to date.
The way the man seemed to know more than he let on but refused to admit it in any certainty was intriguing enough, but the way his body language screamed suspicion at the mere mention of treatment by a Counsellor? That was unusual; notable.
Regardless, he couldn't let one of his rising stars reduce himself into oblivion from misplaced suspicion alone. And so, here he was, away from his more important directorial duties to ensure that misplaced suspicion no longer interfered with his plans' smooth operation.
He placed a hand on Roe Deer's shoulder, feeling more than seeing the well-hidden panic rise up at the contact. Interesting. There was certainly more to investigate here later.
For now though, forcing him into cleansing that horrid stench off himself would have to do.
He firmly handed over the spare Counselling Office sign he'd made for such occasions over to his subordinate and stayed to make sure he walked through the door. It wouldn't do for him to dodge it again.
He was about to walk away when movement from around the corner caught his eye. Ah, the roommate. He brushed a strand of hair behind his ear.
Overall, Black Goat was efficient and somewhat ruthless when it came to his own survival: a fact easily ascertained from the conspicuous absence of a particular type of detail in his field reports. But selfishness and self-preservation weren't traits that Daydream Inc. discouraged, not as long as their employees came back with results.
And if Black Goat had one thing going for him, even only after a few months at the company, it was that he always got results.
He wondered what Black Goat was doing here now, walking towards him down the corridor. That was not the kind of gait used to approach someone for the first time: too full of purpose to be anything but pursuant of something.
Having not officially met yet—at least not in person—there was nothing Black Goat could possibly think he could provide.
Unless… Does he already know who I am?
If he did, that would be quite impressive: he did try to keep a low profile amongst the lower-level employees to allow himself some degree of inconspicuous freedom.
But instead, with all the purity of an innocent new hire, Black Goat said, "Um, excuse me! Mister…?" And stalled those thoughts in their place. Curious.
The much taller man blinked his eyes in a way that was sure to have softened many a stony heart, but was so contrary to the impression he gave in reports that he found himself almost unable to react at all.
He blinked back, considering. He looked the brunet up and down and took in the far too many physical cues that were screaming clueless hoobae for it to be anywhere close to genuine.
Interest piqued by the rather drastic difference between the man on paper an in person, he decided to see what he could ascertain what this ruthless man could be trying to get from, what should look to him like, a regular employee. He was intrigued enough to play along.
"Hmm… you can call me… Yuwon. Just Yuwon," he responded, watching the other man's gaze flicker about, unable to settle on one point of focus. Easily distracted is he? That seems rather out of character for him. Although it could be part of his little act…
But then Black Goat seemed to zone out completely at his response, Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed involuntarily. Before Yuwon could get too annoyed at the lack of investment from a subordinate that called him out specifically, Black Goat snapped back to attention.
"A-ah, Yuwon-ssi then." His one visible eye darted downwards, getting snagged somewhere just below Yuwon's eye-line. Testing, he wet his lips and watched as the other man's eye retreated back up to hold his gaze as if caught. Aha. A gesture absent of tells.
Yuwon bit back a smirk.
"And you are…?" He prompted, fully leaning in to the charade. He tilts his head up—tiny bells jingling—amused by the other man's lack of focus now that he knows why. He wondered if that was the beginnings of a blush on his subordinate's cheeks, but decided to leave that particular fruit to ripen before bringing it to harvest.
"Baek Saheon," Black Goat responded redundantly, of course Yuwon already knew his name, "from the Field Exploration Team in Squad F." He smiled faux-vulnerably. Such that, on anyone else, it would have made Yuwon want to eat them whole, but on him, it only made him want to play with his food even more. It wasn't quite harmless, but it tried to be.
"Oh, me?" He answered the unasked, "I'm a contractor of a sort, but I wouldn't want to bore you with the details. I'm sure you have more important things to get to, Field Officer-nim."
It wasn't a lie. Yuwon hated outright lies, but speaking the truth in circles had a certain appeal he'd grown to enjoy. Baek Saheon nodded in response, completely unaware of anything beyond his own goals for this conversation. Goals which Yuwon still couldn't pick out.
"Ah, if you don't mind, Yuwon-ssi," he began, supposedly overtaken by an endearing shyness, "would you… tell me what floor you work on? I'd love to speak again sometime if you're not against it!"
He bowed not-shallowly—more than would be necessary for such a request to someone similar in age—and peered up through his curly hair with such an adorably well-crafted look, that Yuwon couldn't help but be charmed.
As much as this persona was affectively endearing, it was the flashes of ambition in the other man's gaze that truly stirred Yuwon's interest. The contrast was almost… cute.
No one had dared to try and deceive Yuwon himself in so long, that this man would do so while so steeped in ignorance was more than precious. He was a viper pretending to be harmless to deceive a prey that was, in reality, completely immune.
In that moment Yuwon decided that he would make sure their paths crossed again. Well out of the way of someone who could identify him, to be sure. Their next meeting was sure to be as interesting as this one, and Yuwon, for one, couldn't wait to see what continued scheme this little garden snake would bring with him next time.
He just smiled up at him as his subordinate straightened from his bow, and then leaned forward to brush his lips against his ear, "Don't worry Saheon-ssi, we'll see each other again soon."
Then he laid his hand on the brunet's head, patting him a few times and scratching his nails gently against his scalp for good measure, before leaving to attend to more pressing duties.
He'd make sure to check in on him in a couple of weeks, but for now he'd leave Black Goat to struggle over how he'd continue on from here. It was sure to keep him quite busy.
After all of a week, Saheon still finds himself thinking about the feel of Yuwon-ssi's fingers in his hair; the light scratch of his nails against his scalp; the glint of something more than just amusement in his eyes.
Even as another week comes and goes, the sensations are still as fresh in his memory as if their encounter had happened just yesterday.
When his psychotic roommate stares at him through his room's keyhole at night [Author's Note: This has never happened], he thinks of Yuwon-ssi's smile to calm himself down.
When he has to throw out his drink after leaving it uncovered around that bastard to be safe [Author's Note: There is zero risk in this instance], an imagining of the ginger man's woodsy scent makes the waste seem inconsequential.
And only once, when that nosy fucker extorts Saheon's newest item from his possession [Author's Note: … No comment.], he remembers the look on that bastard's face when faced with a harmless contracting employee and feels the closest thing to peace he imagines is possible.
After that, well, it maybe gets a bit out of hand.
The first time he imagines Yuwon-ssi breaking into their apartment to save him, his psychopathic roommate is dumping hazardous material in the kitchen dustbin.
"What are you doing?" He bites out, only realising his mistake when he's met with the crazed, blank eyes of what he's supposed to believe is a human sharing his living space.
"What did you say?" He asks, almost nicely, mouth curved neatly upwards in something others might accept as a smile.
"Ah- I meant-," Saheon backtracks, flinching as the psycho takes a step towards him, crusty red bandages in hand, "I wanted to ask why you were throwing those away in the kitchen… it's- it's unsanitary?"
He regrets saying anything already. Saheon can already tell he's doomed to horrific consequences from the pleased gleam in that lunatic's dull gaze. Tormenting him is the only thing Saheon has ever seen him enjoy, apart from his creepy pre-occupation with kids cartoons.
"If you don't like it, take them to the waste disposal yourself." He blinks, but his gaze doesn't waver.
"Ah- Um, no, I'm sorry." Just let this be over with. "Please… throw them away here." I don't even want to know whose blood that is.
Saheon backs away towards his room and wishes he didn't have to deal with this. Leaning against his now firmly closed (and locked) door, he can only think one thing. If only Yuwon-ssi was here to scold him into submission again.
He can see it in his mind's eye:
There'd be a knock at the door in the middle of the conversation. As he always does, that crazy bastard would make Saheon open it without even moving a muscle. But this time, Yuwon-ssi would be on the other side, smiling kindly just like he had been that first day.
Saheon would let him in and turn around, only to find that maniacal villain already shaking in fear. He would stutter something pathetic, but Yuwon-ssi wouldn't care, his personal investment was reserved for only Saheon!
The ruthless fucker would almost drop the bandages with how hard he'd be shivering and Yuwon-ssi would notice the first wad of them already in the kitchen bin. He'd command that insane slob to dig them out and throw it all away in the proper place! And then he would!
He'd stick his freakishly long arms into the bin to recover the mess he'd made himself and then he'd shamefully walk out of their apartment to the appropriate waste disposal point all the way at the Research Division!
And then Saheon would thank Yuwon-ssi for showing up when he did and would offer him to stay for dinner now that his murderous roommate was out of the way. They'd have a lovely meal, marked by the stunning absence of any threats or lunacy and then Saheon would offer to walk him home, which he'd accept and then-
Saheon sighs, sliding down to sit crumpled on the floor at the base of his door.
If only…
It's three days after he succumbs to brief delusion that he sees Yuwon-ssi again. Saheon is just stepping into the lift to the main lobby for his lunch break between heaps of reports and—between one blink and the next—he is suddenly there.
Saheon blinks. And then nods, pasting on his best cheery smile. He's been ready for this moment for longer than he'd care to admit.
"Going to lunch too?" He chirps, hoping for an affirmative so he'd have an excuse to spend more time with the other man. This is, after all, the only time they'd be able to meet while at work, seeing as they were in completely separate departments between which interactions on company property were discouraged.
Yuwon-ssi's eyes curve up in sly crescents. "I am," he allows, "Are you going to try and persuade me to play hooky, Mr Black Goat?" The words are said casually, but they send shivers of opposite types down Saheon's spine.
He knows who I am. It dawns on him. He looked me up!
Saheon has to bite back a victorious smile. It seems like his plan to catch the other man's interest was well under way. But why did the way he said my code name feel so ominous?
Saheon shakes off the wariness. He's been spending too long around Kim Soleum if even a civilian is making his danger sense prickle down his neck. He must be getting paranoid.
Still, he lets out a jingling laugh that he'd spent the last few weeks crafting just for the older man—someone who wears bells on their ears must surely enjoy the sound—like they're sharing an inside joke.
"Maybe I am," he teases, "But a model employee such as yourself surely shouldn't accept."
Reverse psychology is popular for a reason: it really works. Even against straight-laced businessmen, maybe especially moreso.
This theory is proven correct in short order following a mischievous hum. "A model employee? I'm glad you think so highly of me from just one meeting Saheon, but such surety almost makes me want to prove you wrong."
The ginger lets words fall from his lips with the grace of a knight scooping a leather glove from before the throne and Saheon's mouth goes dry. The unabashed and continued use of his first name, without even asking for permission first is doing things to him.
"Only almost?" he shoots back, "I must be getting rusty." Saheon's lungs feel boiling hot, his heart feels like smelted iron. He needs this man to say yes, to follow him out the company doors.
"Oh," Yuwon-ssi flicks behind him as he exits the now open lift doors, "I wouldn't say that."
That almost sounded like flirting. Saheon scrambles out after him, struggling to catch up after the brief brain shutdown the other man's tone had caused. He feels like there's molten glass filling his throat. He can't speak at all, too full of some overflowing emotion.
Before he realises it, they're out of the building—not lead by him, but by the man he was so set on tempting—like the flagrant flaunting of company policy is something he does without careful consideration. Maybe it is.
Saheon trails after him one metre back, as if attached to an invisible leash, dazed with defied expectations and the desire to know where he is being lead so easily.
Which, it turns out, is to a small bakery-coffee shop not one block away from the main building. He sits down at the chair left empty of the table for two—that his distant co-worker had claimed without consultation—and stares: at the twitching smirk on the older man's face, at the sharper pattern to the red pigment under his eyes, at the way his fingers frame his cheekbone so perfectly where his head is resting on his palm.
"Do you-" he blurts haltingly, "Do you come here often?" It is only after the words leave his mouth that he realises what this sounds like, but he knows that sputtering over the implications would do him no good. So he lets the question hang in the air, unrecanted even in the face of the pointedly raised eyebrow Yuwon-ssi gives him in response.
"As a matter of fact, I do," the man responds, clearly amused at the implications himself, "though always alone."
A sense of uncalled for reassurance washes over Saheon in response, though he has no right to feel possessive of a privilege he himself only just got access to.
A privilege. Huh. Is spending time with Yuwon-ssi already so valuable to him?
While Saheon was preoccupied with the social chess board in his mind, a member of the cafe staff had come and gone. That he had missed the one obligatory interaction required of such a social call was lost on him until Yuwon-ssi's molten voice brought him back to reality.
"So, Mr Black Goat, what is it that you wanted to discuss?" His eyes glinted with a sharp curiosity as Saheon's gaze snapped to attention.
"Ah, well…" Fighting through his flush at having his intentions so easily deciphered, he pulls out one of the conversation starters he'd agonised over since their first meeting.
The conversation flows freely after that, so much effort put into refining relevant questions having paid off more than well enough to warrant the amount of time it had taken him to craft them specifically for the man he's chasing.
Before he knows it, two drinks are deposited onto the table by a waiter whose face Saheon forgets immediately upon taking their leave. In front of Yuwon-ssi is a black tea with no milk. It smells slightly smoky and bitter enough for Saheon to detect it clear across the table.
In front of him is… his usual coffee order from the shop below his old apartment—before moving into the Daydream employee dorms—a double espresso with sweet mascarpone in place of milk: a drink he hadn't ordered.
"I thought it would suit your taste," comes a satin voice across from him.
Saheon looks up, bewildered and almost shaken by the man's nonchalant knowledge. The look Yuwon-ssi is directing at him over the rim of his steaming mug dares him to ask, but Saheon can't quite find the courage. Instead, he nods and gives the glass a stir—clearly this cafe was of the trendy sort, because as far as Saheon was concerned, glasses were for juice or water, not coffee—teaspoon clinking pleasantly against the sides.
He tries to watch the mascarpone permeate through the dark liquid like a cloud—his favourite part of such an unusual order—but finds his gaze pulled to Yuwon-ssi's without his own input, searching the man's face for any sign of how he'd known what Saheon preferred to drink.
He doesn't believe for a second that it was a lucky guess.
Regardless, their conversation continues, just as riveting as before their drinks arrived, if not more so. Saheon uses all his tricks to try and extract an admission from the sly man in front of him, but none bear fruit.
This man is much more than he seems.
And yet… Saheon doesn't feel alarmed by his uncanny knowledge. The mystery just makes him want to unwrap this man even more.
Saheon pushes his chair back, halfway to standing up—without a plan for what comes after—when he hears a yelp. There's a server behind him who has been unbalanced by his sudden movement. He reaches out to steady her tray on reflex, keeping the lattes from spilling their contents by the finest of margins.
Relieved, he turns back, only to find another server apologising profusely to the object of his pre-occupation: it seems like they'd spilt their own tray of vibrant matcha all over his date conversation partner in the commotion.
Yuwon-ssi looks as unimpressed as the wild foxes he'd seen get sprayed with water deterrent during humid summers back in Jisan Village. He's almost surprised that he can still remember that place with something resembling fondness after everything it had done put him through: put them through.
But the surprise fades to resignation. In the end, that was the only place he had memories of her. So as much as he wishes he could escape those years themselves, they are all he has left right now to remember her by and so the fondness is inevitable.
Saheon shakes himself from his reverie—for once not catalysed or doused by the man in front of him—and rests a hand on the ginger's shoulder, filing away the adorably crestfallen look on his face for later.
"Come on, Yuwon-ssi, let's get you cleaned up."
He asks the still apologising waiter for the bathroom and they point him down a passage barren of the homely decor populating the rest of the shop. Yuwon-ssi trails quietly behind him, uncharacteristically pliant as Saheon leads him by the hand.
They reach the sink in no time at all and Saheon sets the tap to warm while he harvests the bounty of the paper towel dispenser. But when he turns back, he finds a Yuwon-ssi who is completely shirtless, jacket draped over his arm where he is inspecting the newly added green mournfully.
Saheon stares for a moment too long and then shakes all other thoughts but cleaning from his mind.
"Give it here?" he asks, pulling a stain remover sachet from his breast pocket. He's always thought that he'd end up using this after getting ssamjang poured on him by his spiteful roommate for some imagined slight, but he supposes this is as good a use as any for it.
Yuwon-ssi just stares at the sachet as he tries to get it open. It's made of sturdier stuff than Saheon expected, and with already wet hands, it's proving a challenge. He sighs and tears it open with his teeth, hoping against all hope that he doesn't end up ingesting any.
He'd hate to have survived all those Darknesses only to go down to eating a detergent.
Yuwon-ssi's expression has dropped from mild confusion to full blankness by the time Saheon looks up again, but he just gestures for the man's slowly staining clothes with an outstretched hand.
It's when he's handing them over that expression begins to colour the ginger's face once more: a more serious consideration than Saheon has seen so far mixed with something he can only describe as hunger.
Saheon opts to ignore it, focusing on making himself useful over contemplating what that look could possibly mean for him—for them?—by carefully upending the sachet over the green stains across the front of both garments, jacket and shirt.
He briefly dips them under the water—not so hot that it would bake the stain into them, but warm enough to chase away the chill—and begins to scrub, knuckles passing over the fabric and each other in a gentle massage.
He gets lost in the task—chasing the green from soaked fabric—so lost that he doesn't notice the other man coming up behind him until soft hands are enveloping his own.
"Let me help," comes the older man's melodious voice next to his ear, sending deep rumbles through Saheon's chest where the ginger is pressed to his back.
Saheon can feel the heat of him through his shirt and jacket both. He can feel his breath against his neck and fights back a shudder at the warm humidity against his skin, trying to refocus on his task.
But such things are nearly impossible once lips press against his jaw, wet with promise. Saheon stares into the mirror, disbelieving at how fast the other man has made a move. He'd thought they had weeks—if not months—of cat and mouse left to play before they got anywhere close to this intimacy. He'd thought getting here was more delusion than anything else.
Yuwon-ssi's hands grip his own into stillness, squeezing his shirt from Saheon's grip and bringing his wrists to the older man's lips. He leaves deliberate kisses along his wrist, paying no mind too the suds peppering his skin.
Saheon's mind shuts off. All he can do is stare at his own reflection as the older man slides his mouth closer and closer to his fingers until he's laying steady kisses against Saheon's palm. His eyes are burning with possession when Saheon meets them in the mirror and it's all he can do to let his head fall back against the ginger's shoulder.
"Are you- ah!- sure?" Saheon manages to bite out around the moans he's keeping tamped down.
He gets a deep hum in response and the huff of warm air from a stifled chuckle against his neck—hairs now fully on end in some twisted danger sense—before the other man speaks.
"You're an interesting one, Saheon-ah." Their sudden intimacy being reflected in his address makes Saheon's skin crawl with anticipation. "I was wrong to write you off as just another Field Exploration Team member when I first saw your reports, you're truly enthralling."
Saheon stiffens at the mention of Yuwon-ssi reading his reports. Is this man not just a clerk of some status? How would he get access to those? But then he realises. Yuwon-ssi had never actually told him he was a civilian employee; Saheon had just assumed.
He does actually moan when Yuwon-ssi mouths at his neck—unable to hold it in any longer—sending a pleading look at the mirror version of the older man.
"Who-?" he starts asking, when it hits him.
Were those tails? Ears?
He blinked and they disappeared, but the image stayed in his mind, niggling at a memory. He'd seen those tails before, he just needed to figure out where.
That's when it hit him. He'd first seen him with Kim Soleum outside what had become the new Fox Counselling Room. He had assumed Kim Soleum had stolen the sign, but what if-
His eyes flicked to the mirror once more and the sly look in the ginger's eyes made everything fall into place.
He opened his mouth just as the older man bit into his clavicle, "A-ah!" Saheon panted, swallowing against his hard won truth. There was a reason Yuwon-ssi hadn't given his last name.
"Assistant Director Ho," he says, and the man's lips curve into a smirk.
"You called, Mr Black Goat?" comes the teasingly sonorant voice of his boss's boss.
Saheon would want to kick himself for misunderstanding his way here if it didn't feel so good.
"You- you knew this whole time," he accuses, thinking of his embarrassing hoobae act.
"So what if I did?" Yuwon-ssi responds, nuzzling his nose into the crook of Saheon's neck, "It's not like anyone is forcing you to behave so endearingly. I just thought I'd enjoy the show."
Saheon twists around, hands on his employer's bare chest and eyes drawn to the sly amusement on his face. He lets his forehead thump against the man's shoulder, hiding his flush in the crook of the man's neck.
Saheon understands now why the other man has been so preoccupied with his own. There's something alluring and comforting about hiding his face in the slender curve. He finds himself laughing.
How did I end up here?
But he can't find it in himself to regret it. Not when he gets such a silken laugh in return.
He can feel the older man's chest rising and falling against his hands. This, more than anything is what brings him back to reality. There are still things that need to be done. He sighs.
And so Saheon turns back to the basin to continue trying to scrub the green from the pale shirt, but once again he is stopped by smooth hands on his own.
"Ah… there's no need for that anymore, Saheon-ah." The ginger reassures, the endearment replenishing the flush dusted down Saheon's neck. As if by magic—or more likely by something less twee—Yuwon-ssi is dressed again, his shirt free of stains and of any trace of dampness all at once.
Saheon narrows his eyes, but the man which whom he now has a completely undefinable relationship just smiles blithely in the face of his scrutiny. He decides that he doesn't have it in him to puzzle out the exact nature of his company's assistant director right now, especially when he couldn't really care any less given their current involvement.
Some might argue that more information would help keep Saheon much farther away from the personal risk he prefers to avoid, but he has found that to not always be the case. He trusts his ability to read people much more than he trusts the safety of knowledge and, as they say, ignorance is bliss.
So Saheon will choose to leave this mystery unbroached because in the end, he doubts knowing will make much of a difference.
As always, he's proven right in short order. It's been not even one day since their little excursion to the cafe and Saheon's imagination is already running more wild than before. He can no longer go a single night without dreams of warm lips against his while he basks in the warm scent of his boss.
Each morning from then on, Saheon sits at the small table in their cramped kitchen and sighs at his incumbent demise.
He is so fucked.