Chapter Text
The apartment was full of chaos before the sun had even begun to rise. Saying that the living room looked like an absolute disaster was a severe understatement, that’s one thing everybody could agree on, even if most of them didn’t say it out loud.
Clothes were scattered everywhere across the living room, some draped off the side of the couch, practically touching the floor. A shirt on the kitchen counters, no one knowing how and when it got there, and whose it was. Though, considering it’s awfully larger than the rest of the clothes scattered around, it gave a big enough hint as to who it belonged to.
“Aysh, Mingyu-yah! Quit leaving your clothes around the house!” The alpha scolded loud enough for the tallest man to hear, no matter where he was in the house.
A scream loud enough that it could be heard all the way from the upstairs bathroom to the kitchen echoed throughout the house “It’s not me who’s leaving them! It’s Jun-ie!”
A yowl in protest echoed, “It’s not me!”
“Whose cat fur is it that's always on my clothes then!?”
“...Woozi’s?…”
“Well, as far as I’m aware, Uji doesn’t have enough black fur to cover most of my clothes!”
“Well yeah, but—!”
“Oh, both of you quit arguing already and just get ready! We’re leaving in twenty minutes! Also, Gyu, take a shower! I don’t want us meeting our boss for the first time with you stinking of whatever damn rotting ingredients you put into your potions!”
“AY!? I SMELL OF SPIDER EYES NOT ANY ROTTEN INGREDIENTS YOU—!”
“QUIET!” Jeonghan yelled, cutting the witch off mid-way through his sentence, now threatening. “Now who in this house knocked all my shells off the wall and table! I swear, once I find out who it was, I’ll make sure you’re sorry for it!”
“Sorry Jeonghannie! I swear— one of them fell so I was trying to catch it, but then more of them slipped and, well… I left them there because I had to get ready!” the tiger-eared Kitsune yelled out from one of the hallways on the other side of the house. None of them saw it, but they all knew that his ears were most likely flattened against his head in a way that could’ve almost been seen as apologetic.
“Aysh, you punk!”
Despite all of the mayhem going on in random areas of the house, the only two people who had managed to be ready before anyone else were Woozi and Wonwoo, who was currently leaning against the same kitchen counter that a specific witch’s shirt was laying on, mindlessly sipping from one of his blood bags that they kept in the fridge. He was just there, listening to his boyfriends, with a certain calmness in his posture that it seemed like this was the most normal thing in the world to him, even though everyone, minus the vampire and cheetah, were currently practically screaming like banshees at each other from different parts of the house.
On the other side of the kitchen counter, Woozi sat on a stool, almost directly in front of Wonwoo, calmly scrolling on his phone whilst sipping from a tall glass of water, as if the rest of the house wasn’t practically on fire around them. It felt like the two of them were just blocking out any noises that weren’t from each other at this point.
However, that was eventually disrupted by Seungcheol practically barging into the kitchen, breathless, with his hair still slightly damp from a shower. He dragged a hand down his face, picking a small golden white feather out of his hair. He must’ve accidentally caught it when he was running around the house, the alpha figured, before letting his arms fall to his sides.
“We’re going to end up being late, for sure…” he sighed out in disbelief.
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And late they were. Sure, only by a few minutes, but those same minutes was time they couldn’t take back. They also weren’t sure of how strict their new boss was. Though either way, being late to your first ever meeting in a new company you’ve just been hired into wouldn’t usually be considered a great first impression.
By the time they had got to the building, having sped so fast they probably would’ve gotten at least three tickets by now, they were already practically scrambling out of the car and rushing to the main entrance.
Pushing the door open, almost flinging it to the wall it hung on, they were all greeted with rose checkered marble tiles beneath their feet along with a drastic change in lighting, going from the natural bright lighting of the radiating sun, to the dim orange glow of the lobby. The hallway was long— uncomfortably long if you paid it too much attention, with a pair of stairs standing at the end of it. Nourished, deep-green plants flanked the walls, just below rows of paintings. Two elevators stood to the left of the entrance, the reception counter on the other side where a woman with blonde hair sat, typing away on her computer without a pause as they collectively entered the lobby.
“So… are we going to just stand here or are we actually going to go to this meeting?” The angel drawled, rolling his eyes, with a hint of sarcasm and impatience laced in his voice, gaining a few laughs.
“Aren’t angels supposed to be patient, Seungkwan-ah?” Jeonghan teased.
“Aren’t sirens supposed to be charming instead of annoying?” Seungkwan shot back, the corner of his mouth twitching into a grin.
A ripple of laughter went through the group, loud enough for the nonchalant receptionist to take a short glance up. Jeonghan just raised a brow, a smirk tugging at his lips.
“Alright, enough.” Seungcheol said, already taking a few steps toward the counter. “Let’s not keep the boss waiting.”
The angel huffed, but fell into step behind him. Or, well, flight behind him. That was until he was pulled down onto his feet by a specific demon — Minghao, naturally.
“Good evening,” Seungcheol said, offering a polite nod. “We have a meeting scheduled. We’re the new hires. I believe we should be in the system already.”
The lady didn’t spare a glance, as if she had been working here for years, and had all the lines memorised by heart.
“Names?”
Ten other voices answered at once, overlapping into an unintelligible mess of names. Her pen paused on her notepad. All Seungcheol could do was hold back a wince, shutting his eyes for just a second.
She took a short glance, barely even a second, before exhaling a long breath through her nose. All she wrote was “New Hires”, before looking back up at the group, realising just how many people there were.
“How many more people is he going to hire…” she muttered under her breath, mistakenly loud enough for them all to hear, looking back at her computer, beginning to type away once again. Leaving them all, or most of them, to awkwardly stand there.
Before Seungcheol could dwell on the silence even longer, the lady stopped typing on her keyboard and spoke up without a second glance at the group.
“Fourth floor, the end of hallway B. Take the elevators, you’re already late and those stairs are confusing enough.” She paused, taking a small peek at the group.
“One elevator holds six people maximum.”
By the time she had finished her sentence, they had all disappeared, already in front of both elevators, evenly split for all of them to be able to get up to the fourth floor at the same time, as if they’ve done this routine thousands of times already.
The blonde blinked, looking at the now-empty lobby as one of the elevator doors finally slid shut, the lobby now falling silent.
“What a loud bunch…” she muttered, sighing deeply afterwards as if just looking at them exhausted her.
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Eventually, the elevator doors slid open, granting them the view of the second to last floor of the building. Before anyone could register it, they were all filing out of the two elevators they had practically hogged up completely.
“Well she was a bit… dismissive?” Dokyeom questioned, gripping the ends of his blazer.
“You could say that.” Vernon stated.
“She wasn’t wrong, though,” Seungkwan said, fluffing out his wings ever so slightly, before pulling them closer towards his body. “We are late…”
“And loud.” Vernon added, without missing a beat.
Hoshi winced. “We were not that loud.”
“...We were that loud, bǎobèi” Minghao admitted, his hand lightly laced with Joshuas, giving it a reassuring squeeze before dropping it as they reached the end of the hallway.
Their chattering slowed to a pause, now seeing the large doors at the end of ‘Hallway B’.
“Right,” Seungcheol said, now straightening his shoulders. He looked back at the group— His lovers. He took notice of Seungkwan's wings tucked in, something he doesn’t usually do unless he’s nervous. He took note of Hoshi’s tails stilling, his hands politely at his sides. The way Seokmin's hands, almost automatically, went to latch onto Woozi’s. “Behave. Be polite. And for the love of everything, as much as I love you all, just let me do most of the talking…” The wolf trailed off.
A few ‘yes’s were murmured, along with a few nods. Seungcheol sighed, before turning to face the door, raising his fist and knocking a few times. Waiting to be given permission to enter.
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“Come in.” was all they heard as a response from inside of the room. With just a split second of hesitation, Seungcheol finally pushed the door open, poking his head through to take a glance inside, before bowing and fully opening the door, letting everyone else inside. Closing the door behind them all once they stepped inside.
The room was larger than the hallway had suggested. A long conference table running down the center of the room, windows alongside the back wall, letting in the last seep of evening light. At the far end, a young man, no older than 27, was sat with a single folder in front of him, along with an open laptop angled towards him at the side. He looked up at them as they filed in, his expression stoic yet calm. He was dressed in a sleek all-black outfit, featured with a fitted black button-up shirt, the sleeves rolled up and tailored black trousers. His outfit was paired with polished black leather dress shoes, and a silver watch, along with a silver chain, almost dangling off his wrist. Just at first glance, it’s clear he was a human.
Joshua stepped forward, one hand outstretched in a polite greeting, completely ignorant to what Seungcheol had just said to them. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”
The young man’s gaze swept over the group once, unhurried, before settling back on the folder in front of him.
“All of you. Please, sit.”
The fae lowered his hand without a flicker of discomfort, if anything, interest. Sliding into the nearest seat besides Seungcheol as if the greeting had gone exactly as planned. He looked across from him at Jeonghan, the siren only held a smirk, as if he also found the rejection amusing. The others followed, a careful shuffle of wings and tails and chairs scraping the floor as they found their places around the table.
When they were settled, the younger man opened the folder.
“You’ve been recommended to me. You are all aware of that, correct?” he said, though leaving zero space for any response.
“That’s the only reason you’re here. I hope you understand that a recommendation gets you through the door, but it doesn’t mean it keeps you here.”
Before the weight of his words had fully settled, the young man took a stack of papers out of the folder, sliding it towards Seungcheol.
“Your stations. You’ll find your buildings, floors, and supervisors listed there. You report to them, not to me.”
It all felt like time was being rushed.
“You start tomorrow. You’re all dismissed.” the human stated coldly, closing his laptop and folder before beginning to get up from his chair.
“Wait!” A voice almost screamed out, causing the man to slightly pause in his tracks, looking up at the group, trying to figure out who the voice belonged to.
“Sorry— uhm… What’s your name?” The voice led to the man with the soft, golden white wings. Who was also flying halfway off of his chair.
The young man hesitated for a few seconds, before holding back an eyeroll and an exasperated sigh.
“Lee Chan.”
Without a known reason, that name felt like a weight being lifted off of the angels shoulders. And unbeknownst to him, everyone else's too.
Before any of them could find their own voice, the same doors they had almost just entered through were now slammed shut, footsteps hurriedly making their way down the hall, away from the room.
For a moment, no one moves. The twelve of them are still seated, holding a name at the back of their mind that none of them will say out loud.
It’s Woozi who finally moves, reaching across the table for the stack of papers that had been laid in front of Seungcheol. He flips through them slowly, checking for all of their names.
“Lee Chan,” he says, almost to himself. Testing the name. It feels strange in his mouth, yet comforting in a way. Like a word in a language he doesn’t speak.
No one manages to utter a response.
———
The cheetah hybrid split the papers between them. The assignments scatter themselves across the compound like seeds thrown to the wind.
Jun reads his off first, then huffs a quiet laugh. “Level three of the west wing, Admins. I’ll be lucky to see any of you at all.”
“I’ve got the east wing,” Wonwoo says. “Top floor. Finance department.” He frowned at the paper, as if the paper was a mistake. “That’s… far.”
Someone else mutters that they’re on the opposite side entirely. Most likely Hoshi.
“I mean… Who says I can’t just shift into someone from one of your guys’ areas and just hang out with you, right?” Seokmin says, gaining a low crowd of laughter, managing to break the tension just ever so slightly.
“That’s fine,” Seungcheol says, sighing, folding his paper. “We’ll make this work.”
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The second day was chaos. Everyone was going to the wrong floors. Wrong buildings. No one knew where they were going, practically just wandering around the compound until someone managed to tell them where they’re actually supposed to be. By the third day, they’d managed to memorise most of their stations, and where a few rooms were. They also managed to grab a hold of their routines. By the fourth day, their routines had settled into something almost boring: shifts, breaks, the occasional glimpse of a familiar face across a courtyard, and repeat.
By the fifth day, however, things began to change. Or at least, all of them had begun to notice more— the way they kept subconsciously glancing at the windows that viewed into the hallway of their stations, as if waiting to see a specific person walking past, but they never ended up coming by. The way no one seemed able to stop thinking about a name that’s only been spoken of once.
Soon enough, despite them being at different stations, they’d somehow managed to take notice of each other too. How they acted when Chan was there.
They all noticed how Jun's eyes would follow him whenever he was in the canteen at breaks and lunches. Even if all he was doing was walking in to brew himself a cup of coffee. Obviously, he’d still listen to his boyfriends whenever they’d speak, but his eyes for some reason always lingered on Chan, from the moment he entered the room to the very moment he left and you were no longer able to hear his footsteps.
Everyone saw how Seungkwan began to leave an already brewed coffee for him, right next to the machine. Labelled: “For, Chan! <3”. Made exactly how he always made it. With three spoons of sugar, and a few splashes of milk. Though, he never drank it. Instead, he made a new cup of coffee and drank that one instead. Everyone noticed how it looked like Seungkwan's heart shattered each time.
They all noticed when Wonwoo’s and Vernon’s shoulders seemed to relax and release a small amount of tension whenever he entered the room.
And it was impossible to ignore how whenever someone would even walk too close to him, Seungcheol would begin to growl. Most people were able to hear him, except for Chan. Maybe he was ignoring his growls on purpose? Even the kitchen staff could hear a low rumble from outside the kitchen. Ever since the first time Seungcheol growled at someone for being too close to Chan— all the other staff members grew wary of being near him whenever Seungcheol, or any of the others were around. They all unconsciously knew to step away from Chan the minute they felt a pair of eyes, more times than not, more than a pair, crawling at their spines.
Nobody spoke on the way home. Nobody had to. They all knew what was waiting for them when the front door closed.
———————————————————
The front door hit the wall before anyone was even through it. One by one, they all filed in, exhausted, kicking off shoes without looking, coats being tugged off and flung at the hook, most of them sliding off onto the small bench below. Groans and sighs filled the house, the sounds of a day being shrugged off everyone’s shoulders for the night.
But even in the relief, there was a heavy weight. Nobody looked at anybody. Nobody said a proper word.
Mingyu stood in the center of the room, shoulders heavy with a sense of tension nobody seemed to want to acknowledge. He watched them scatter— Seungkwan folding his wings tight as he squeezed onto the couch, Vernon already retreating into his hood, Minghao hovering uselessly by the kitchen counter like he didn’t know what to do with his hands. Everyone was already slowly migrating into either the kitchen or onto the living room couch, finding their spots like it was routine, like they hadn’t been doing this exact same dance for days now.
He cleared his throat before speaking. The sound cut through the room like a knife.
A pause, louder than it should’ve been, as if everybody already knew what was going to be said before he had even managed to open his mouth.
“Are we going to talk about it or not?”
No one moved. No one even breathed. For a second, Mingyu thought maybe they’d just pretend they hadn’t heard him, the same way they’d been pretending about everything else.
The air shifted from heavy to uncomfortable in a matter of seconds.
“What’s there to talk about?” someone, most likely Seungkwan, remarked quietly, shifting uncomfortably on the couch, having been seated awkwardly between Woozi and Dokyeom because of his wings. He was pointedly not looking at Mingyu. At anyone. Only staring daggers into the floor.
“I’m more than a thousand percent sure we’re all aware about what I’m talking about.” The witch quipped, voice even. Too even. The kind of even that meant he was holding onto his temper by a thread.
The silence thickened, stretching long enough that the clock on the wall became the loudest thing in the room, each tick landing like a small, deliberate hammer blow. Before eventually, someone spoke up.
“I can’t stop thinking about him…” Hoshi admitted reluctantly. The words came out like a confession, like he was bracing for someone to laugh or yell or tell him to shut up. No one did.
A single sentence managed to lift most of the tension in the room, but not all of it. Some were letting out breaths that none of them realised they were holding, as if relieved that someone else had the courage to admit it before them. Seungkwan’s wings dropped slightly, the feathers loosening from their tight press against his sides. Even Dokyeom’s shoulders came down from where they’d been hunched up to his ears. The silence in the room was now different. No longer heavy. But waiting, expectant.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Jeonghan answered. His face was blank, too blank, the careful kind that meant the opposite of what’s being shown. But his eyes gave him away, a flicker of something he was working hard to hide. He was staring at a point on the wall just left of Hoshi’s head. Deliberately, like if he looked anywhere else, he’d lose the battle entirely.
Hoshi stared at him. For a moment, no one dared to even breathe. Then, quieter, “You know damn well what I’m talking about Jeonghan.”
The siren's jaw tightened— a crack in the careful blankness, small but unmistakable. He didn’t answer. He didn’t need to. The silence said everything his face was trying to hide.
“I can’t either.”
Everyone looked towards the voice. It was Wonwoo. He was leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed. He hadn’t moved from there since they walked in, like he’d been holding up the wall and the conversation all at once. “I’ve been trying not to. For days. Since the meeting. But I just can’t.” His voice was quiet, steady. The kind of quiet that came from sitting with something so long it had stopped hurting and just became heavy. Slow nods rippled around the room, as if they all understood, and felt, the exact same thing.
Jeonghan’s jaw tightened harder. The careful blankness was starting to fracture at the edges. He still didn’t speak. But now, he was the only one avoiding it. He could feel their eyes on him. Not all of them, but enough of them. He still wouldn’t look up.
“Jeonghan—” Seungcheol started, rising from his seat at the far end of the couch. He made his way slowly towards the distressed siren, like a human trying not to startle away a stray cat. Every step measured, deliberate. Fighting every alpha instinct to close the distance faster, to fix this, to do something. But he knew Jeonghan. Knew that rushing him would only make him shut down harder.
“You think that I don’t know!?" Jeonghan snapped, and the sound of it was so sudden, so sharp, that even Seungcheol stopped mid-step. He caused everybody who wasn't already looking to turn, shocked at his sudden outburst.
"You think that I haven’t been going insane too?” He almost cried out, his voice cracking ever so slightly in the middle of his sentence, not enough for anybody who wasn't actually listening to notice, but enough for everybody in the room to notice it, anger bubbling deep inside of his chest. His hands were shaking. He curled them into fists to make it stop.
“I’m not the only one who’s been avoiding this." The blonde paused long enough to catch his breath and push back the tears that have been threatening to pour out from the corners of his eyes since the very moment they all walked in, before continuing on immediately, leaving zero space for anybody to even blink.
"Avoiding speaking about these feelings that we all clearly have for him. You’ve ALL been doing the exact same thing since the very first day! Don’t even try to lie!”
The words hung in the air like smoke. No one moved. No one dared to breathe too loud.
The outburst was replaced with a ringing silence. No one spoke after that. Jeonghan only sank further into the armchair, arms crossed, gaze directed to the floor. His chest was rising and falling too fast, but he was clamping his mouth shut like he was physically holding more words in.
“I’m so sick of this,” Jeonghan said, his voice breaking on the last syllable. It was barely above a whisper, but it landed like a shout.
No one said anything. What was there to say? He was right. He’d been right about all of it. But Joshua shifted closer to the armchair from his original seat on the floor, just a few inches, his shoulder brushing Jeonghan’s knee. Neither of them flinched. Neither moved away. It was a small thing, barely anything, but it was the first time someone all night had reached out instead of pulling back.
It was Woozi who finally broke the silence. “We’ve all been thinking it,” his voice laced with a light sense of relief now that it seemed like everyone was finally on the exact same page. He said it like a door finally clicking shut.
“So…" Mingyu hesitated for a second, as if trying to find the right words to say. "we all agree that we… you know. Feel some sort of way for him?” He questioned, though, everybody already knew the answer. Still, he needed to hear it out loud. Needed someone to say it out loud so it stopped being this thing they were all carrying alone.
Everyone, including Jeonghan who was now cascading his hand lightly through Joshua’s hair, nodded, followed by a small ripple of verbalised agreements flooding the room. It was quiet. Reluctant, almost. But it was there.
“So,” Mingyu said slowly, now leaning back onto a table, fingers gripping the edge to keep balance. He looked around the room— at each of them, one by one. His gaze lingered on Jeonghan a beat longer than the others. The siren still wasn’t looking at him. But he’d stopped shaking. "What's the plan?"
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