Chapter Text
Working for a law firm sounds pretty impressive if it’s left at that; revealing that it’s as a secretary is rather underwhelming after the initial awe. It’s more than what Ilhoon’s parents had expected he’d even get though – everybody had predicted that he’d be out of college, if he got that far, and straight into his ideal life of staying at home, sleeping in and not much else. In a way he’s sure proved them wrong (and that’s one of his favourite hobbies). It’s still a job after all.
Ilhoon smooths down his shirt before heading out the door, yells goodbye to Donggeun and Sungjae who probably haven’t even woken up yet – but if he has to be up this early now, they can at least suffer a little too – and remembers to grab a banana from the kitchen. They’re out of apples (or, really, none of them can seem to get over their own laziness and buy any).
The bus stops at the next street over, the same place he would wait in order to get to campus up until last summer. It’s slightly chilly now that it’s autumn, the gentle wind blowing at his hair that he had put in too much effort trying to perfect. It bothers him more than it should, but not for long. He’s the only person catching this bus and he gets on straight away, takes a seat by the window so he doesn’t miss his stop like he used to as a student.
The building is a high-rise one in a wealthier area of the city – rather foreign to Ilhoon but he guesses that he’ll get used to it. Not that he has much choice anyway. There’s a travel agency on one of the other floors, a real estate company on another, both a bit too out of reach for Ilhoon based on their flashy signs in the lobby. It’s a whole different world now.
He presses the button to take him up to the floor he had visited for the first time a week ago, breathes in deeply as if to prepare himself for the day and whatever it has in store for him. Filing, photocopying and awfully polite introductions, he predicts – truly riveting. As long as he’s getting paid for it, he supposes.
The receptionist pays him some notice when he steps out of the elevator. She asks if he’s the new secretary – yes, I am – and directs him towards an office nearby, says he’s being expected – okay, thanks.
“By the way, I’m Bomi,” she nods at him before he goes. “Don’t be too nervous. We don’t bite.”
And Ilhoon nods back to be polite, forgets to even introduce himself in return, and heads past the frosted glass walls for the closed door she had pointed to. The nameplate on it reads ‘Lee Minhyuk’ in bold letters engraved in silver. He knocks a couple of times and enters once he’s been given the invitation.
Minhyuk’s a somewhat familiar face – he had interviewed Ilhoon himself and he failed to realise who he actually was at first. (Not one of his finest moments, he admits.) He’s a rather short guy, filled to the brim with enthusiasm and nice enough. There’s definitely room for him to be worse – Ilhoon should probably consider himself lucky that he isn’t stuck with a boss that doesn’t even smile. It was already obvious that he’s set on having the best firm of them all though, being the best in general, but who wouldn’t. He called this place his pride.
He takes it upon himself to show Ilhoon around, introduce him to everybody so he doesn’t have to do it himself. (And thank God for that.)
Other than Minhyuk and Bomi, there’s Eunkwang, the oddly upbeat guy rummaging around the kitchen area of the lounge when they find him. He hits his head on the top of a cupboard thanks to Minhyuk making him jump, still turns around and gives them a hello with a bright smile. He’s searching for a packet of crackers he had left there, he claims – one that Minhyuk reminds him he had already eaten last week. Against all expectations, he turns out to be Minhyuk’s personal secretary. He’s the person to go to if Ilhoon has any questions, he insists, but he isn’t so sure about that. What’s even more unbelievable than that is that he’s the same age as Minhyuk – they were high school friends. He never would have guessed.
Past Minhyuk’s office is Chorong’s. She’s got black hair past her shoulders, heels that click against the hard floor of the office so it’s easy to tell where she is. She’s a force to be reckoned with when it comes to legal matters, Minhyuk lets Ilhoon know, regardless of how sweet she is around the firm. Facing off against her is something nobody should wish for in life if they want to live, not that Ilhoon has much to worry about. She offers him one of the Ferrero Rochers sitting on her desk as a welcome, promises that she won’t work him too hard, although she might not be able to keep that if she has a deadline coming up. He thinks he can at least handle that.
And there’s a third lawyer at the firm, one described by Minhyuk with a laugh as the second most handsome guy around here. He wasn’t exactly lying though – he’s undeniably attractive, tidily cut hair and a nicely fitted white shirt, his suit jacket hanging on the back of his chair. He does look good—great—something like that. Ilhoon forgets to blink. And, right, his name is Hyunsik. Im Hyunsik, that’s what the plate on his door says. Ilhoon keeps that in mind, repeats it to himself a few times to familiarise himself with it. Perhaps he’ll be seeing a lot of him around here. (Perhaps that’s what he’s suddenly hoping for. He wouldn’t mind.)
A short distance away, there’s a small office for Ilhoon beside the copying and printing room. It’s pleasant enough – got a sleek desk with a computer, a phone next to it so everybody can reach him and a tiny potted cactus for decoration. Ilhoon could bring along his own bits and pieces too, make it a little more like home. He doesn’t have any complaints though. It’s probably better than any other place he could’ve ended up at, as if he’d know.
Minhyuk leaves him to it, like he knows what he’s doing with one hundred percent certainty. (And he spends the day doing not much of, well, anything. A bit of copying here and there, Chorong asks him to file a couple of documents for her before lunch. It’s as exciting as he had imagined – not really at all.)
“Have fun today?” Sungjae sneers once Ilhoon drops himself down onto the couch, lets out a sigh and his head fall back. Sungjae leans in closer and Ilhoon knew he’d be ready to bother him the second he got home. “Hm, hyung?”
“I mean, I wouldn’t call it fun,” he rolls his eyes at the ceiling. “I probably wouldn’t even call it boring.”
“Well, someone’s got to do it. Didn’t think it would be you though,” Donggeun joins in for absolutely no reason.
“Thanks, guys. Friends of the year as always.”
“Come on, there really wasn’t one thing worth mentioning?” Sungjae asks, completely ignoring all cues to drop it already as he tends to. “I thought you’d be bragging about it, even if it was shit.”
“What? All I did was copy and file,” Ilhoon folds his arms, plays it cool and nonchalant like usual. “Not that I didn’t expect that, but you know.”
“Okay, but was there anyone hot,”
Ilhoon tries not to smile at that, almost lets out a tiny laugh but it’s enough to give him away. He can’t stand it when this happens because Sungjae never lets go of an opportunity like it, never has in his life.
“Spill,” Sungjae demands. “Hyung, you’re too obvious.”
“Shut up, Sungjae. Have you never tried keeping your mouth shut for once?”
“Wow, Ilhoon-hyung knows a hot lawyer guy,” he nudges Donggeun, tries to get him involved again as he ignores Ilhoon completely. “He’s a lawyer, right?”
“I’m gonna shower,” Ilhoon gets up. He isn’t going to talk about it, no way, especially not to these two. “See you freaks later.”
The phone sitting on Ilhoon’s desk rings for a moment then stops. The caller ID lets him know that it’s Hyunsik and he heads for his office, braces himself a little since he hasn’t seen him yet today. He gives his door a light knock before entering, waits for his invitation to come inside and does once he gets it.
He’s sitting behind his desk, looks good as he always seems to. He’s got a pair of wire glasses sitting on his nose at the moment – Ilhoon decides right there and then that he likes them both on and off. Hyunsik pushes them up, and he holds up a pile of paper that he had lying by his keyboard.
“Could you get me two copies of this?” he holds it out towards Ilhoon and he takes it. He tells him he’ll be back shortly.
Ilhoon remembers to breathe once he’s out of there, he still gets kind of tense for some reason. (Some reason, meaning that he can’t help but find Hyunsik almost unbearably attractive, dare he admit it. It has him wonder—)
He clears his mind and reminds himself not to be foolish. He brings the sheets to the copying room like he’s supposed to, closes the lid on them one by one and lets the machine do the work, watches the light repeatedly slide from one end to the other. Once complete, he gathers them all up and takes the time to order them, neatly align them for Hyunsik too. Maybe he’ll notice the effort he’s made – maybe he’ll be touched that Ilhoon isn’t a total mess.
And then he’s back in his office.
“Oh, hey. Thanks,” Hyunsik smiles at him, far more brightly than anyone should over such a minor gesture. (Or this early in the day, for that matter.) “Did you have any trouble with that?”
Ilhoon shakes his head and at least he isn’t lying.
“Ah, good. But if you ever need anything, you’re welcome to ask me,” he offers, and perhaps Ilhoon would be more willing to do that than go to Eunkwang for advice. He’s too busy being run around by Minhyuk anyway.
Ilhoon returns to his office only to be sent a document from Chorong – another copying job – and he’s back out of there already. Not that he’s complaining when this is becoming second nature to him now. Close the lid, press the largest button, easy. Well, until the machine decides to jam about halfway through and he checks the display panel just in case. No problems with the paper, none with the ink either. Whatever it is, he isn’t going to be held responsible for this.
He supposes he could fetch Hyunsik considering it was barely ten minutes ago since he said he could come to him with any issues – perhaps even copying dilemmas – or he could stay standing here like a total idiot instead. Yeah, that sounds about right.
“Ilhoon?” Hyunsik? Yes, definitely Hyunsik calls out.
And Ilhoon almost jumps out of his skin, attempts to compose himself enough to respond, “Oh—hey...”
“Is the copier acting up?” he walks inside, gets closer and Ilhoon suddenly forgets how to breathe again. (Not cool, Ilhoon. Not cool.) “Eunkwang didn’t tell you—of course he didn’t.”
Ilhoon takes a step back so Hyunsik can take care of it. He gives the bottom of the machine a firm kick, and another one, and it miraculously starts up again.
“It happens sometimes,” he laughs. “Yeah, they don’t want to get a new one unless it’s truly dead,” he pauses for a moment, then looks back at Ilhoon. “You should come for lunch when you’re done.”
Ilhoon nods although the thought of it makes his stomach swirl a little. Everybody tends to leave to eat while he stays behind in the lounge. He and Hyunsik with their lunchboxes and polite conversations that make him flush anyway. They help him to get to know him though, so there’s a positive.
“Hm, I can’t say that I have much time to meet anybody,” Hyunsik supposes and Ilhoon isn’t even sure how the topic turned to this, but in a way it’s a relief to hear. (As if Hyunsik would like him in the first place. Come on now.) “I mean, no, I would make time but I haven’t found—yeah, that’s it.”
Ilhoon takes a bite of his banana – they still haven’t bought apples – and he nods along with everything that Hyunsik is saying. It’s refreshing to have a conversation like this here, it feels easy-going and like they’re friends rather than colleagues. He isn’t entirely sure if that’s what they are.
“I’m happy though,” Hyunsik smiles at Ilhoon, and he really does seem it. “It’ll happen when it happens, won’t it?”
At least that’s out of the way. The next step is to somehow be so irresistibly alluring that Hyunsik finds that person – Ilhoon, of course. That certainly isn’t unrealistic at all, but he can dream.
Minhyuk’s asked Ilhoon to wait around the reception for the coffee guy from across the street. As if making copies and filing documents wasn’t fun enough, now he gets to play delivery boy from office to office. He rests against the front desk, gives Bomi a nod of acknowledgement every now and then until the elevator finally comes up and opens on their floor.
This guy walks—stumbles—over carrying one of those cup holders for four coffees, a brown cap on his head and a matching apron hanging from his neck. He hands it over to Ilhoon, somehow without spilling a single drop on the ground, and takes a quick look around.
“Um, hey, you’re new around here, aren’t you?” he asks. He’s got a peculiar voice, one Ilhoon hasn’t heard anywhere else before. He nods in response. “Is Chorong busy at the moment?”
Ilhoon shrugs but says he’ll see when he reaches her office. He gets a thumbs up in return, seems to have given this guy a reason to be ecstatic at ten in the morning.
Minhyuk’s office is the first one to the left of the floor – the same side Chorong’s is. Ilhoon heads there before hers and makes his deliveries to a very chipper Minhyuk and Eunkwang who thank him kindly before chatting away again. Then he knocks on Chorong’s door and brings her coffee over to her desk, sets it down on her daisy-shaped coaster.
“The coffee guy wants to know if you’re busy,” Ilhoon mumbles to her because he has no idea what it is he’s after.
“Oh, don’t worry about him,” she insists and stands up, leaves her office along with Ilhoon.
He watches as she marches right over to the guy and prods him in the chest, makes him laugh as she calls him some strange nickname, he assumes. He still isn’t quite sure what’s going on. He walks straight past them and towards Hyunsik’s office on the other side of the floor to be greeted with that same old smile.
“Morning, Ilhoon,” Bomi perks up behind the front desk as Ilhoon approaches from the elevator, barely awake yet despite the hot tea he’s brought in a flask. “Hyunsik asked if you would see him as soon as possible.”
Already. He heads over to his office even before his own, figures he may as well rather than going back and forth. He walks in on Hyunsik fixing his tie, probably in the reflection of his monitor.
“Ah, good morning,” he greets Ilhoon with a keenness in his voice as always. “I have some filing for you to do, if that’s alright,” he frowns a bit as if he’s sorry about it. “If you could just put the documents in the folders labelled with the corresponding dates, that’d be great.”
They’re separated into two piles on the floor, paper clips and staples holding certain sheets together. Ilhoon kneels by the cabinets to get started, sets down his flask and sifts through the documents although he suddenly reminds himself to be self-conscious, to imagine that Hyunsik is watching him as if he doesn’t have better things to do. And then he remembers that he only wears tight pants, every single day without fail unless it’s summer, so if Hyunsik happens to be looking in his general direction at all—
His face grows hot and he blushes to himself over nothing. Hyunsik can’t see though, thank God he at least can’t see this.
“Ilhoon,” he calls out and Ilhoon feels his footsteps hitting the ground as he walks from his desk. “I’m just going to the lounge for a minute. Do you need anything?”
“Oh—I’m fine,” he stutters and he watches Hyunsik leave. He lets out a huge sigh of the breath he’s been holding in.
He does a better job at filing, or anything, while Hyunsik isn’t around. He puts away a document from last December, a letter labelled as this May. He’s almost halfway done by the time Hyunsik’s back and he ignores him to focus on the task at hand, thinking maybe it’ll help.
“You like chocolate, don’t you, Ilhoon?” Hyunsik crouches down beside him from nowhere, shocks the life out of him (but when does he not), and holds out an opened box. “A client sent these to us today. You should have one.”
He picks a round white chocolate, one with pink sugar dusted on top. He takes it into his mouth and lets it sit on his tongue as Hyunsik smiles back at him, gets up and sits back at his desk again. (It’s got a strawberry centre and it’s not as heavy as he had expected.) He continues filing.
There’s a knock on the door some minutes later and, oddly enough, it’s Minhyuk.
“Hyunsik, have you seen—ah,” he notices him on the ground with all of these sheets of paper. “Ilhoon, I’ve emailed you some instructions to tend to after you’re done. Keep up the good work.”
And he’s gone again. Between having nothing to do and a constant stream of tasks, Ilhoon isn’t certain which he prefers. Well, a job is a job after all. Nobody ever said that it would be particularly interesting or easy, although despite the uncontrollable flustering he still seems to get, he likes staying in Hyunsik’s office the most.
If it wasn’t already obvious enough, he just likes him the most.
“I hate to break it to you, hyung, but we need an update,” Sungjae announces the moment Ilhoon opens the front door. He ignores him and turns to lock it. “On you and Mr. Hot Lawyer Guy.”
“About what.”
“The guy you wanna b—”
“I have literally never said anything like that in my entire life.”
“And yet your mind just went there.”
“I don’t think about—hyung,” he glares at Donggeun, quite contently sitting there in the middle of all the action. It’s probably comedy to him. “Staying neutral is not an option here. Pick a side.”
“Of course he loves me more than you, hyung,” Sungjae snorts at Ilhoon as if he’s a complete idiot. “Besides, being on this side is funnier because it means you getting your panties in a twist.”
“Ilhoon,” Minhyuk steps one foot into the room and holds onto the edge of the door as he peers inside. “Hyunsik is staying late tonight. Would you be able to stick around in case he needs any assistance?”
Ilhoon doesn’t think before responding, without asking for the specifics, “Sure—yes, sir.”
“Thanks,” Minhyuk disappears off again.
Well, there’s something to look forward to, although no good thing in life seems to come without a cost. He keeps it at the back of his mind for the entire day, until it’s five and everybody else is starting to go while he heads to Hyunsik’s office.
“Hey,” he dares to step inside. “I heard that you’re going to be working late tonight.”
“Oh—Minhyuk told you to stay back?” Hyunsik asks and Ilhoon had gathered that he had been told. Not that he seems disappointed or anything, he’s suddenly perkier than most people are after working for eight whole hours. “Sorry about this, I won’t keep you for too long.”
“It’s alright. I don’t have anywhere else to be,” Ilhoon offers him a little smile and takes a seat opposite his desk – the only chair in here besides the one Hyunsik is sitting on.
“I don’t know if I have much for you to do, but it’ll be nice to have somebody to talk to,” he smiles back, a thousand times brighter than the sun is at this time of the year.
He turns to his monitor and continues typing. Ilhoon’s watches for a short while, figures that he’s making things awkward and scans the room instead despite being all too familiar with it now. He starts to watch Hyunsik again, thinking that as long as he avoids his face it’ll be fine.
“You must be getting bored,” Hyunsik says out of nowhere. “I know it probably isn’t much more interesting, but you can sit around here if you want.”
Why not – Ilhoon brings his chair to the other side of the desk and sets it down next to Hyunsik. He’s typing out a report of some kind, similar to the sort Ilhoon’s had to file away for him.
“Exciting, isn’t it?” he lets out a laugh. “I probably won’t finish tonight, so we’ll close up before seven.”
Fair enough, although it’ll be even darker then than it is at five. Ilhoon’s never been particularly fond of getting home when it’s pitch black – it still makes him feel uneasy regardless of how safe this area and his own neighbourhood are both known to be. It’ll just be a sacrifice he has to make tonight.
“Somehow I hadn’t even registered that it’s already Friday,” Hyunsik says while typing. “Got any plans for the weekend, Ilhoon?”
“I don’t think so,” Ilhoon shrugs to himself because Hyunsik hasn’t turned from the monitor. “I like staying at home, I guess.”
“Hm, so do I,” he replies. “Nothing quite like late mornings and sleeping in.”
“Yeah,” Ilhoon allows himself to grin – Hyunsik isn’t looking anyway. He’s saving his report, a backup copy too, then closes the document. He chooses to shut down the computer and the screen goes black.
“Are you hungry?” Hyunsik swivels his chair around and asks. “How about we have dinner?”
Together, Ilhoon assumes. That’s what he means, isn’t it? Of course – he said ‘we’.
“Are you sure?” he asks back.
“I’ll take you home afterwards. Don’t worry about it,” Hyunsik adds and it’s a pretty convincing offer.
What else can Ilhoon say but, “Okay.”
The front of the office is locked up now and so dark without most of the lights on. Hyunsik’s got a key to lift up the shutter and let the two of them out, and he lowers it back down and locks it again. They head for the underground car park – Ilhoon’s never been there before since, well, he doesn’t drive – and he takes a wild guess as to which car is Hyunsik’s.
He’s spot on (although he had narrowed it down to two rather than one, so he perhaps doesn’t actually win here).
Hyunsik drives a jet black Mercedes – it suits him too well. The interior matches with its dark leather seats and stylish interface, and Ilhoon doesn’t consider himself to know a whole lot about cars but he’s sure this is one with a hefty price tag. And he was already certain that Hyunsik had money but this is a sudden reminder of just how much. He pulls his seat belt across as Hyunsik pushes his key into the ignition, starts the engine with a rich roaring sound.
He takes them to an Italian restaurant not too far away – how fancy, this is the kind of place people go to for dates or hold celebrations. People who are loaded, that is. It isn’t one of those small, homely bistros that Ilhoon would go to with his family when he was younger.
Hyunsik orders a steak, medium rare, with a glass of red wine like they’re both nothing much. Ilhoon settles on a sea bass with lemon and just some water – he isn’t exactly a fan of wine and he doesn’t want to be too bold when Hyunsik’s offering to pay either. (Not that he probably even cares, but still.)
Ilhoon takes a sip from his glass to clear the dryness in his mouth, and he curiously asks, “Do you eat here often?”
And Hyunsik shakes his head, “No, or at all really, but I thought I could repay you for your hard work. I feel like I’ve been giving you so much to do lately.”
“Well—I’m only doing my job,” Ilhoon lets out a quiet laugh, more sheepishly than he had intended.
“I still think you deserve something in return though,” Hyunsik insists, that smile on his face being as persuasive as ever. “If there’s anything I could do for you...”
There could be one thing (that isn’t quite date me or fall head over heels in love with me for absolutely no reason).
“Actually, I... I have a complex about going home when it’s dark out,” Ilhoon admits. “I was dreading tonight but then you said—”
“I can take you home,” Hyunsik offers, right on cue. “Wait for me every evening and we can go together.”
And that’s what he does after dinner’s been paid for – with his debit card, not credit. Ilhoon directs him to his apartment between conversations, Hyunsik promises to remember the route for next week, and this could be a more than perfect arrangement.
“See you on Monday,” he waves Ilhoon off as he steps out of the car. He waits for him to get inside before driving away.
“Look who’s decided to come home,” Sungjae yells over to Donggeun – lounging on the couch – from the kitchen. He’s digging scoops out of an ice cream tub, piling them into a tall glass and most likely about to pour in the can of coke sitting nearby to make a float. “You’re very late tonight, hyung.”
“I had to stay for a couple of hours,” Ilhoon shrugs as he pulls off his shoes and leaves them by the door. “It’s what I do.”
“It’s eight,” Donggeun points out.
“Do you two ever have anything better to do?”
Sungjae grabs a spoon and wanders over, “We just wanna know what you’ve been up to.”
And Ilhoon attempts to humble brag after a change of heart, decides he may as well milk it since it’s actually something worth sharing if it causes any envy, “I had dinner with a rich guy.”
“The Guy?”
“The Guy,” he smirks, places his hands on his hips and holds his head up high. “And then he took me home in his Mercedes.”
Sungjae’s too speechless for once, Donggeun’s thoroughly impressed, “You’ve got more game than I had thought.”
“Thank you,” Ilhoon grins to himself, smug and full of pride now.
“Ilhoon,” Bomi chimes when he steps out onto the floor, beckons him closer like she has something urgent to tell him. He strolls over to the front desk to find out what she’s got in store for him – probably some copying to do already. “Hey, what’s going on between you and,” she says instead. She takes a quick look around and lowers her voice just in case. “Hyunsik?”
He’s uncertain as to what exactly she’s implying here, “What do you mean—”
“You know. You’re practically glued to each other,” she smiles, rests her chin on her palm, intrigued for some reason. “Is he making you live in his office?”
“He just has a lot of things for me to do,” Ilhoon shrugs. That’s basically his job after all.
She raises her eyebrows though, then smiles a little wider at him and narrows her eyes, “Well, between you and me, he never made this much use of our old secretary.”
Now Ilhoon’s listening, “Oh yeah?”
“Mhm,” she nods. She leans across the desk and gives the general area another check. “Not that it’s any of my business, but he must love having you around.”
“Oh—I don’t know about—”
“Look at you suddenly being all cute and embarrassed,” she laughs so loudly it echoes. (At least soundproofing is pretty good in the offices.) “You like him, don’t you?”
“I mean, doesn’t everyone?” Ilhoon rolls his eyes.
“Don’t play dumb, Ilhoon-ah. You know precisely what I mean by that,” she nudges him in the arm. “Listen, I’ve got your back, okay?”
“Then I guess...”
“Excellent,” she claps her hands together and sits back again. “Now all you have to do is make a move on him and live happily ever after. Simple.”
Of course it is, if she says so. It isn’t like Hyunsik could aim far higher than a little secretary who can’t seem to breathe without getting flustered, who spends every minute of free time that he has doing nothing of worth. That’s just the kind of person Hyunsik would like, right?
But if feelings are mutual, who is Ilhoon to complain?
It’s rare that there’s an extra person in the lounge during lunch, but Eunkwang’s apparently learned how to make egg soup this past weekend and he’s getting as much mileage out of this newfound knowledge as possible. He’s rather proud of himself, offers Ilhoon a taste or even a whole batch of his own if he likes it too.
“I don’t think Ilhoon wants to die this young,” Hyunsik teases him, turns to give Ilhoon a light pat on his shoulder afterwards.
“Hyunsik-ah, don’t keep Ilhoon to yourself,” Eunkwang whines. “You always seem to be together.”
“What? I need a helping hand sometimes,” Hyunsik shrugs, and he takes a quick sip from his water bottle. “Why do you care anyway? It doesn’t concern you.”
“No need to get defensive, Hyunsikie,” Eunkwang grins widely, sits up a bit. “I understand if you find Ilhoon so cute that you have to hog him from the rest of us. I won’t tattle to Minhyuk.”
What a delicate conversation. Hyunsik simply ignores Eunkwang, presses his lips together tightly and (maybe) tries to avoid smiling (if it isn’t only Ilhoon’s wishful thinking taking over). Ilhoon stuffs the remainder of his sandwich into his mouth and listens as Hyunsik manages to change the topic so effortlessly that Eunkwang doesn’t even notice. Well, not that he seems like the brightest person in the universe in the first place.
Once lunch is over, Ilhoon heads straight for Hyunsik’s office with him. He’s got a few small jobs for him to do this afternoon, but they’re going to be staying late again and it isn’t as if he can’t save them until then. (Perhaps Bomi was right and he’s just searching for excuses now, or maybe not at all, but Ilhoon enjoys the thought of it more than he should.) Besides, it beats sitting alone in his own little office by a long shot.
He’s sitting in front of Hyunsik’s desk at the moment, across from him as he re-orders documents in a file by date and Hyunsik types away as usual. He pauses for a second.
“You know, I don’t think I’ve ever heard you say my name before,” he suddenly remarks without any prior indication that it had been on his mind. “We’re all on first name only basis here.”
“It feels informal, I guess. To just call you that,” Ilhoon admits, although he hasn’t really been making a conscious effort to avoid doing it.
“Hm, I see,” Hyunsik pushes his glasses up along the bridge of his nose. “Then would you prefer to use ‘hyung’?”
“I mean, are we—if you’re okay with it.”
“Of course,” he lets out a quiet laugh that disappears into a smile. “We aren’t strangers, are we?”
Ilhoon agrees. Whether or not they’re friends is still a strange, grey area to him when he technically works for Hyunsik, but on the other hand they could be close enough now to be considered—Ilhoon’s allowing himself to get carried away and he’s forgotten to finish organising this file. At least Hyunsik would never put his foot down and give him a stern lecture for slacking off with that soft heart of his. Ilhoon isn’t sure if that’s just how he is or if it’s because it’s him, because Eunkwang was right as well, but he’s happy enough either way. (The latter is better though – by far.)
“Hoonie,” Hyunsik calls out, bursts Ilhoon’s bubble of thought. “Do you mind if I call you that?”
He shakes his head. Of course he doesn’t – his heart misses a beat instead and it makes him happy inside rather than anxiety-ridden, plants a sweet thought at the back of his mind that Hyunsik does have a particular fondness for him. His imagination could be getting out of control.
“I think it sounds cute,” you do? “It suits you.”
Hyung, do you like me?
Ilhoon continues sorting his documents, puts his head down so that, with some hope, Hyunsik won’t notice the look on his face. (Probably a lot of pink and an obviously repressed urge to smile like a fool.)
Time seems to pass by at a decent pace regardless of how boring the actual task Ilhoon’s focusing on is, even if Hyunsik’s so engrossed with his work that he stops talking for a while. It’s becoming darker and darker now, all Ilhoon can see in the windows behind Hyunsik are reflections of the office on pitch black. It isn’t that late but it’s winter.
Hyunsik checks his watch although there’s a clock on the computer and he closes his report, “Let’s finish up for the day. Hyung’s thinking about having pork belly tonight, what do you say?”
“Okay,” of course.
There’s a place that Hyunsik likes in one of those areas of the city that never seem to sleep, a humble family-run restaurant with locally-sourced meat and soju refills for every table. He says he eats alone here sometimes – the owners are the parents of an old school friend – but he wants to share it with Ilhoon like a little secret.
“Tired?” he notices Ilhoon yawn from across the table.
He nods, “A bit.”
They try to make it quick. Hyunsik pays in cash – they don’t have a card machine – and there’s a short distance to walk to reach where he had left the car. It’s a well-lit area though, feels rather pleasant while they’re roaming side by side despite the chilly air at this time of the night. Somehow, it almost seems dreamlike, how the lamps lining the streets highlight portions of Hyunsik’s face in the most breathtaking way, how their shoulders meet and pull apart again and again. Ilhoon’s never looked at anybody like this in his life.
He shuts the passenger side door and pulls across his seat belt. He turns to Hyunsik and he’s already smiling back at him.
“Hey, hyung,” he considers saying something short and sweet, succinct enough to let Hyunsik know. Let him know that there’s this feeling inside of him, has been for a while and his heart is erratic, but he still hesitates. “Thanks—yeah, thanks for tonight.”
“You’re always welcome,” he replies, and he puts the car into drive and takes Ilhoon home.
“Hey, kid,” the weird coffee guy – Ilhoon actually takes the time to read his name tag today and it says ‘Changsub’ – hands over the office’s orders. “Could you do me a favour and bring Chorong her coffee first?” he bursts into a short bout of laughter, then composes himself straight after. “Check it out.”
He points to her cup and Ilhoon takes a look. It has Park Chorong is an idiot messily written on it in black marker and he still doesn’t quite get it.
He delivers it to her anyway, watches her let out a polite laugh to herself and leave her office again, grab coffee guy—Changsub—by the ear this time. She laughs harder with him.
Perhaps that’s love – Ilhoon has no idea.
It’s the last day of work before the Christmas weekend and things aren’t any less boring around here, no, but there’s the annual party to at least be a bit excited for this evening. (Not that Ilhoon’s partial to such events but it could be alright. He doesn’t want to be rude and all Eunkwang’s been doing is hyping it up – he could attempt to humour him.) Once the office has been closed up for the night, they’ll head off to this bar a few blocks away and actually allow themselves to forget about work for at least one weekday of the entire year.
But first there’s a letter to finish typing up for Minhyuk before it hits five and it’s time to go.
Hyunsik peeks inside of the office without knocking, he’s got a reindeer headband on and he looks, dare Ilhoon say it to himself even mentally, cute.
“Ready to leave?” he asks.
“Just give me a minute,” Ilhoon insists and he’ll be done. He’s got to check it through.
“I got this for you,” Hyunsik steps into the room now, pulls out a little something that was behind his back – nothing less than a Santa hat. “Here.”
He approaches the desk and holds it above Ilhoon’s head, pulls it over the top of his hair and for once the least of his concerns is whether it’s gotten messed up as long as Hyunsik’s satisfied with it.
“Perfect.”
They leave for the party together in Hyunsik’s car (a very familiar place now), get parked a short distance away and walk to the building with attractive lights and an inflatable snowman outside, the sound of festive tunes playing as they near it. Minhyuk and Eunkwang are already by the bar, ordering some drinks and ready to greet the two of them when they get inside.
“Took your time, did you?” Minhyuk asks, nudging Hyunsik in the arm before his glass arrives.
“We don’t like to rush,” he simply shrugs back. “Isn’t that right, Hoonie?”
And Minhyuk raises an eyebrow at that, “Hoonie?”
A branch of mistletoe was hanging over the door – Ilhoon didn’t notice until now but clearly nobody else did either. (And if they did, it isn’t as if that would have meant Hyunsik kissing him. Obviously.) They make their way further inside, for the empty stools beside the bar. There’s a glass bowl of punch – bright red to suit the occasion – sitting on the countertop, an inviting ladle and plastic cups stacked up beside it. Ilhoon isn’t particularly one to drink for pleasure, he isn’t too fond of the bitterness, but he’s got a curiosity leading him to help himself. He takes a large swig and it hits the back of his throat with a powerful force, an overwhelming one that makes his eyes open wide, that lingers even after subsiding.
Hyunsik pours himself a portion of a cup, around half, because although he can hold a drink or two well, he’s still going to be driving later. Ilhoon wouldn’t have minded walking with him either, but at least one of them is smart. (Yes, Ilhoon, lawyers tend to be.) Hyunsik sits on the stool second from the wall, Ilhoon on the one closest to it, rests his back against it as he sips his punch bit by bit.
With a little help, perhaps he could make his feelings clear tonight – perhaps he’ll be able to gather the courage to let Hyunsik know, or at least pass it off as a joke if he’s been mistaken about him.
“Is there anything that you want for Christmas, Hoonie?” Hyunsik asks, a gentle smile across his face.
“Maybe,” Ilhoon grins back at him. “Why? Are you going to give it to me?”
“What if I would?”
Well, that would be nice and all, but there isn’t exactly a way for Ilhoon to ask Hyunsik to own this ass without sounding completely absurd. He brushes off the question before he starts to consider it – he’s got to keep things subtle. He almost let himself get carried away there, far too early in the night.
He still pours himself another cup, tries to ignore how Hyunsik’s eyes remain fixed on him the entire time. He doesn’t have to look up again to know.
“Thought you weren’t much of a drinker,” Hyunsik remarks when Ilhoon returns.
“It’s Christmas, isn’t it?” he smirks – it’s called playing it cool, although it’s harder to now that all he’s in are high spirits for no good reason. (Perhaps he should drink more often.)
“Fair enough,” he lets out a quiet laugh followed by a louder one. “Look.”
He points to the clearing in the middle of the room – not quite a dance floor but acting as one tonight – and it’s a sight Ilhoon wasn’t entirely expecting. Eunkwang’s on the ground like a gorilla or baboon, something along those lines, and it’s almost frightening how well-rehearsed he seems to be at whatever this is. Guess he does have hobbies other than running after Minhyuk (who is currently cheering him on for God knows why), or the holidays have a bizarre effect on people. Even stranger yet, Ilhoon actually thinks that he finds this funny.
There’s a light tap on his thigh reminding him that Hyunsik is still there, “I’m just going to the bathroom for a minute.”
“Okay,” he giggles without meaning to.
And fully breathes out for probably the first time this evening once Hyunsik’s back is to him, disappearing off around the corner. He take a minute to search the room for a chance at spotting a familiar face amongst everybody else here, avoids the dance area because he hasn’t got those two in mind, and notices Bomi sitting at a booth, Chorong and the coffee guy in the other half of it. Not that he wants to make third-wheeling her thing, but he catches her attention and tries to mouth a message at her the best he can with a few hand gestures here and there.
She gives him a wink and a thumbs up from across the room, goes back to humouring her companions for the night right after. At least somebody’s got faith in him. It fills him with a kind of courage he’s been searching for, a confidence that this is the right time, and yet—
Well, just one more cup couldn’t hurt.
Ilhoon heads to the end of the bar, eyes focused on the bowl, and refills his cup with punch again. Just one more to loosen up, just one more, then he’ll tell Hyunsik for sure. He takes a long sip of it and it doesn’t seem to hit him as hard anymore so he goes in for another straight after.
Hyunsik returns as he’s downing the last of it, and then it kicks in – a disastrous delay. Circles are being spun in his mind, the room seems to be slowly turning too. He can hardly think straight and Hyunsik’s scanning him all over now, repeatedly asking if he’s alright but the only thing it does is make him flush if he hasn’t already got an alcoholic glow spread across his face.
He makes a thoroughly misguided attempt to stand up, too fast and the blood rushes around his brain, makes him see stars as he stumbles a little. He almost falls right into Hyunsik.
He catches him by the arm, “Come on, you’d better get home.”
He half-drags, half-carries Ilhoon out of there and to where he had parked earlier. Ilhoon feels so bad about it but he’s sure he’s too far gone to protect his own dignity now. He clings to him instead so he won’t topple over and he—he’s soft, undeniably warm even in this December cold. They’ve been close but never this close before. Ilhoon almost forgets to be embarrassed now.
They reach the car and Hyunsik manages to unlock it while still holding Ilhoon up, helps him inside and leaves the seat belt to him when he insists that he can at least fasten it. He shuts the door and goes to enter the driver’s side.
“You feeling okay?” he asks after turning his key in the ignition.
“I don’t know.”
“Could I get you anything before I take you home? Some water, or—” he leans in a little closer.
“Don’t worry about it,” Ilhoon insists. Hyunsik’s already done more than enough for him after all.
He starts to drive and Ilhoon watches everything pass them by through his window, the Christmas lights turning into blurs of colour as they make their way through the city. He turns back to Hyunsik who’s staring straight ahead, occasionally glances at Ilhoon too whenever he can afford to but their eyes don’t quite have the chance to meet.
Ilhoon’s never been as thankful that he exists.
He tries to say something to him, maybe sorry for all of this, that he has to pick him up off of the ground like this when he could still be back there with everybody else, but the words just can’t seem to come to him let alone get out. He shuts his eyes in the darkness instead, allows a bit of sobriety to return to him. He’s been in this car dozens of times before, he knows it so well now, but never has he actually been worn out enough to—
Silky sheets, a soft mattress and a pounding headache – Ilhoon awakes in an unfamiliar bed inside of a novel room. All there is to his left are windows stretching from the floor to the ceiling, looking out to the morning sky, but he can’t seem to enjoy the view for what it is when all it does is burn his eyes and make him feel like he’s nearing death at the moment. Who knew some punch could’ve knocked him out this good.
He allows himself a few minutes to come to before dragging himself out of this bed, out of the room too and into whatever is beyond the door. Immediately he can hear sizzling out here, a little spitting too – he glances over to the kitchen area where the sounds are coming from and Hyunsik is there, apron hanging around his neck, frying pan in his hand and all.
“Ah—good morning,” he double takes when he notices Ilhoon standing by the doorway. “How are you feeling?”
“Like hell,” he mumbles back.
“Mm, I’m kind of surprised that you had drunk so much.”
“Well, let’s just say that I’ve remembered why I tend to not.”
Hyunsik lets out a laugh at that, a soft one, “I’m just glad that you’re alright,” and he lifts his frying pan up higher as if to show Ilhoon. “Breakfast?”
He’s so sweet, Ilhoon almost wouldn’t be able to take it if he wasn’t as greedy for his attention as he is. He accepts his offer wholeheartedly.
“How do you like your eggs?” Hyunsik asks next.
“Fried, scrambled, as an omelette. I just don’t particularly care for boiled,” Ilhoon tilts his head. “Scrambled and omelettes have to be with cheese.”
“Got it,” Hyunsik nods back at him. He pats the counter nearest to Ilhoon with stools lining its side. “Want to sit here and wait?”
He walks across the apartment and does as Hyunsik suggests like he kind of always does, whether or not it was an instruction. It’s an instinct when it’s basically his job. He watches him crack eggs against the edge of his pan, add cheese just like he had said and stir everything together. A guy who can cook – Ilhoon has no complaints, none at all. Hyunsik plates up the eggs with the sausages he’s already prepared, collects the slices of bread he had set to toast even before Ilhoon had come out here and divides them evenly between the two of them. He heads for the refrigerator and fills two glasses up with orange juice, hands one to Ilhoon before bringing out forks and knives from a drawer and placing them by the plates.
“Go ahead,” he says, untying his apron then walking around the counter to join Ilhoon. He’s in a hoodie and a pair of sweatpants – Ilhoon’s never seen him so casually-dressed before, it’s almost odd. (But for a morning, he still looks as good as he usually does.) The stools are close enough that their shoulders press into each other once Hyunsik sits down but neither of them bother to move apart. It’s cozy, actually.
There’s a grumble in Ilhoon’s stomach and he doesn’t want to disappoint Hyunsik after he’s made so much effort. He tastes the eggs and they’re soft in texture, got the right proportion of cheese – just how he likes them. Hyunsik got them perfect on the first try. He’s perfect.
“So, do you remember much of last night?” he asks and Ilhoon shakes his head although he does for the most part. All he had meant to do was be suave about, well, everything and that clearly failed – embarrassing to say the least. “On the way to your place, you dozed off in the car and you were very persistent about staying asleep. Not that I wanted to wake you.”
Ilhoon blushes in shame, “Oh—sorry.”
“It’s okay. I rarely have breakfast with another person so this is a nice change.”
“Yeah,” Ilhoon agrees, and he pauses to think things through, fully realises that he’d hate to find out what could have happened if not for Hyunsik. “Um—thank you, by the way. For taking care of me.”
“Just doing what any decent person should have,” he insists, and then he offers him a warm smile to brighten up his morning. “And I’m your hyung, aren’t I?”
Ilhoon doesn’t care about hiding his own smile from him anymore.
“I hope I didn’t make you sleep on the couch last night,” he says between bites of his toast.
“Don’t worry about it, I have another bedroom,” Hyunsik replies.
Ilhoon should have guessed. With a home this grand, he wouldn’t be surprised if Hyunsik had five bedrooms and a personal gym in here. It’s minimalistic like he is, sure, but in a way that’s rather elegant and to Ilhoon’s own taste at the same time. It’s a delicate balance, one he’s managed to achieve.
“Did you decorate this place yourself?” he asks, curious.
Hyunsik nods at him, “I did.”
“I really like it, you know. It’s beautiful,” he admits.
“Oh?” Hyunsik sets down his fork and turns to him. “Rather lonely though, don’t you think?”
“Are you saying that you’d like somebody else around?” Ilhoon tries to joke – he didn’t mean for this to get serious.
“I wouldn’t mind.”
Well, Ilhoon wouldn’t have any problems with living here either if he was given the choice. He might love Donggeun and Sungjae deep down in his heart but compared to living with them, this place would be a dream. The mere thought of being around Hyunsik at some of his most intimate times – he can only imagine what would happen, or how much more of a mess he’d be then.
On second thought, it would be an absolutely disastrous idea.
“Are you okay?”
“Huh—”
“You still seem a little dazed,” Hyunsik has a slight frown on his face. “Shall I take you home once you’re done? Or do you need to lie down for a while?”
“Oh—I’m fine, really,” Ilhoon insists despite his headache continuing on. He’d almost forgotten to care about it anyway.
He finishes eating later than Hyunsik, always seems to, and it isn’t as if they’re in a rush so they lounge around together, switch on the television but talk over it the entire time. What a way to spend Christmas Eve, and somehow Ilhoon wouldn’t have it any other way as long as he’s being realistic. Sure, he had to make a fool out of himself to get to this, yet it was probably worth it.
(Probably? Definitely.)
“Oh,” Ilhoon steps into the apartment. “My,” he shuts the door behind him. “God.”
The terrible two look over from the couch, both still in their pyjamas and they raise their eyebrows in unison.
“Did you finally get laid?” Donggeun asks – so he thinks he’s funny today, and if the forecast is right, there’s a high chance of Sungjae being a wise guy like he is every single day as well.
“No. I slept in his bed though,” Ilhoon snorts. “Well, one of them.”
“With or without him, because there’s a slightly huge difference—”
“What’s it to you, Sungjae?” he crosses his arms – does he have to question him on everything? “I spent the night, he cooked breakfast, I haven’t sucked his dick yet. End of story.”
“Well, you clearly aren’t leaving out any details here.”
“Relax. I know that you aren’t getting any, or remotely close to so you have to take it out on me, but jealousy doesn’t exactly look good on you,” Ilhoon turns up his nose and heads for his room. (He’d shower first, but he still seems to smell like Hyunsik’s place – that bed – and that’s a scent he’d love to last for a little longer.)
Bomi’s morning greeting is a bit different today – slightly concerned rather than cheerful, her eyebrows furrowed instead of raised. She’s already leaning across her desk as Ilhoon’s approaching it, mouth ajar and prepared to ask him one specific question, no doubt. He braces himself for it.
“What the hell happened to you the other night?”
He pauses to come up with a decent response first, “I think that it’s called being a lightweight.”
“I mean, did you get home or what?”
“Yeah, the day after,” he presses his lips together because as amazing as that sounds, considering the embarrassment of it all, it wasn’t that much to smile about (as lovely as breakfast was).
“Oh—my God, Ilhoon,” Bomi’s eyes widen at him. “Did you and—did anything happen?”
“Not really,” he hesitates to admit. “I must be the only person on this planet to spend the night at their crush’s place and get absolutely nowhere, huh.”
“Well, you’ve gotten way further than some people can even imagine. You’re lucky, you know,” she insists and Ilhoon’s sure she’s only saying it to lift his spirits. He shrugs. “Oh, that’s right. I bet that you also have no idea that it’s actually harder than it seems to get close to Hyunsik because he went out of his way for you. You’re too lucky.”
She could have a point, although Ilhoon hasn’t been particularly blessed in life so any kind of attention from somebody he’s taken a liking to seems way huger in his mind than it most likely is in reality. Maybe, but he wouldn’t know.
“Although most people probably would have slept with each other by now, but I guess that’s more of a reflection of character,” Bomi adds.
“A what—”
“Hm? Did I say something?” she laughs before glancing at the hallway that leads to Ilhoon and Hyunsik’s respective offices. “Anyway, don’t you have a certain place to be right now?”
That’s right. Ilhoon has to sit in one of Hyunsik’s client meetings this morning, provide a little assistance when he needs it, present documents on cue so that he can continue speaking without pause. Ilhoon knocks on the door then enters.
“Good morning,” Hyunsik grins at the sight of him. “Are you ready?”
There’s an extra chair in the office, beside the desk and at a slight angle. The documents they had gone through before are in a neat pile and in order, waiting for Ilhoon to get to them. Hopefully he’ll be able to make it through everything smoothly despite this being an odd and somewhat more relaxed time of the year. They’ve all been slacking a bit, whether they’d admit it or not.
The client – a rather tall lady with red lipstick and her hair tied back into a ponytail – arrives at ten. She takes a seat and debriefs them first of all, fully goes into detail about her case and includes her justifications along the way as Hyunsik nods his head and makes his comments regarding each important point. He requests the prepared copy of the firm’s procedures and terms from Ilhoon, and he hands it directly to the client.
“If you’re satisfied with everything,” Hyunsik says, as if she could have read the entire thing already. “We can go ahead with this immediately,” he looks towards Ilhoon. “We just require you to sign this power of attorney form for us, then we can get started.”
He passes it over and Hyunsik flashes him a tiny smile, one as if to tell him ‘good job’, as the client checks it through. She signs it soon after.
“We’ll get you a copy to keep in a moment,” he takes it back and Ilhoon considers this his cue to do just that. “I also ask that you refrain from discussing the case with unrelated parties, for obvious reasons.”
Ilhoon slips out of the office to the copying room. He makes one for the client and another for Hyunsik’s files, just as he likes, then returns to a light-hearted conversation between the two. He maintains a straight face.
“Thank you, H—Ilhoon,” Hyunsik tries to do the same as he corrects himself. He stands up from his desk. “I guess this concludes our meeting then. Shall I show you out?”
He leads the way and Ilhoon trails behind them although he isn’t exactly needed anymore. He stands around as Hyunsik shakes her hand by the reception, gives Bomi a look as she watches too.
“You were very helpful today. Thank you for being so co-operative,” the client says to Hyunsik with a sincere smile. “Perhaps when it’s all over, we could meet up sometime? For a coffee or dinner. You know, as a thank you.”
Ilhoon would be a total idiot to not know what that’s supposed to mean. Not today, not on his watch.
“Well, we’re all very busy people here,” he intervenes with a laugh, which roughly translates into don’t even try it because that’s my job and I think that I’m actually getting somewhere for once.
“Yes, yes, we are,” Hyunsik nods to himself. “We’ll be in touch. Be sure to contact us if anything comes up.”
She heads for the elevator and they wait until she’s gone, and Hyunsik guides Ilhoon back into his office once she is.
“She certainly liked you,” he remarks in a way that’s meant to seem nonchalant.
“Were you jealous?” Hyunsik smirks, pushing the door shut behind Ilhoon. He leans in closer and maybe he can hear Ilhoon’s heart pounding now. “Hm? Hoonie?”
“No—”
“I think that you were.”
He stops denying it and Hyunsik’s demeanour turns all gentle again as he pulls away, as if he was letting himself be a little bold there, show Ilhoon a slight glimpse of how he can play around with him if he wants to. (And there’s something about that that has Ilhoon feeling like jelly on the inside, the way he asserts himself from time to time, creates this perfect tension and almost turns things into a game between the two of them. Ilhoon actually likes it.)
“Clients are only clients,” Hyunsik shrugs. “I’ve already got you to have dinner with, haven’t I? Which reminds me, how does sushi tonight sound? Your favourite.”
He’s got Ilhoon once again, right where he was hoping he’d get him. Not that they’re staying late tonight, but they’ve made an agreement that dinner doesn’t have to wait, especially if they’re always going home in the same car anyway. It’s Hyunsik’s treat after all.
There’s a sudden knock on the door and Hyunsik takes a step back before welcoming whoever’s behind it inside, fully separates himself from Ilhoon before anybody else can see. Minhyuk wanders in, eyes taking a quick glance at them both before focusing only on Ilhoon. He smiles.
“Ilhoon, could I speak to you for a moment?” he requests, stepping out again and Ilhoon follows him to his office.
Eunkwang’s sitting in there as usual, gives Ilhoon a smile as well, and he makes it all the more awkward when Minhyuk invites him to take a seat in front of his own desk just to have a word with him. He prepares himself as Minhyuk clears his throat for what he can only assume is an important matter, although he doesn’t exactly recall ever doing much wrong or that anything worth noting is coming up.
“Ilhoon. I’ve known Hyunsik for a long time now and I can tell when something’s up. Listen, I can’t help but notice things, and you’re not in any trouble, but you and Hyunsik... you’ve certainly gotten rather close,” Minhyuk tilts his head as he pauses. “I’m just curious, do you perhaps have a relationship beyond work?”
“No, sir,” Ilhoon doesn’t quite believe so.
“You don’t arrange to meet with each other outside of hours?” he asks and Ilhoon shakes his head because they haven’t at all (unless dinner counts, but he’s going to assume that it doesn’t). “I’m not saying that there’s anything wrong about it, but it does cause complications. I’m sure you can imagine.”
“I understand,” he nods in total autopilot mode.
“Well, I can’t get in the way of workplace romances, but I’m sure you get my concerns here,” Minhyuk continues. “I deeply cherish this firm and everybody who’s part of it, you know.”
“Of course.”
As if he and Eunkwang don’t have something equally as fishy going on, but whatever. It isn’t as if Ilhoon’s actually lied to him. Alright, he’s been in Hyunsik’s apartment—well, his bed too—but so what? It was an inebriated incident, a good deed by Hyunsik and nothing else. In a rather rare occurrence, Ilhoon’s being completely truthful, isn’t he? By his standards, yes, absolutely.
As if Christmas wasn’t enough to put Ilhoon off parties for the rest of his life, he was kindly given rather short notice that there’s an event for New Year’s too – a fancier one than the last, requires everybody to look more than their best for some reason. He selects one of his usual plain white shirts, the same kind of black pants that are tight around the rear that he always wears to work and, just for today, a pair of suspenders to spice things up a bit. (Hardly. He looks exactly like he does on most days except that he has even less of a risk of his pants falling down now.)
Truthfully, Ilhoon doesn’t care for such celebrations once again (if that comes as a surprise) or getting dragged along to places in general, although circumstances are not quite to his dismay tonight when he doesn’t do anything special for most years and he wouldn’t mind spending the shift into the new one with a certain person this time. It could make a decent change depending on how it all goes.
“What’s cooking, good-looking?” Sungjae sneers as Ilhoon heads for the front door, preened to perfection as Hyunsik waits outside their building in his car.
He ignores him for once. He’s in too great of a mood to bother coming up with anything clever although he considers it for a second, and leaves without a further word. A quiet sort of victory – perhaps he should avoid responding far more often. There’s something more important to be focusing on for now.
Maintaining his cool as Hyunsik watches him approach the car, check. Flashing Hyunsik that bright and beautiful smile he had spent too long practising after shutting the door, check. Making light and subtly flirtatious conversation as Hyunsik drives to the venue, check. Walking with shoulders pressed into each other once they’ve arrived, check, check, check. Ilhoon’s repenting for last time for sure.
And the place certainly is rather nice with its smartly-dressed waiters wandering around with trays of champagne, a chandelier hanging from the ceiling and a balcony area upstairs. Almost too nice for Ilhoon to get used to, and he’s going nowhere near any alcohol tonight despite numerous offerings. Who knows where anybody else is either despite how they said that they’d meet them here, everybody but Hyunsik who’s still glued to his side and God bless him for that (whether or not it’s because he’s trying to keep a close eye on him so that Christmas doesn’t repeat itself).
“Here,” he hands Ilhoon a glass of something red. “It’s sparkling juice. Maybe it’s more to your taste?”
That could be an attempt at being funny, but somehow it doesn’t feel so even in Ilhoon’s admittedly clouded judgement of everything Hyunsik says and does. He takes a sip and it isn’t bad – it’s sweeter than actual wine and that’s good enough for him.
“I don’t know why, but I had this feeling that you’d have some place better to be tonight.”
“You thought so? No, I usually sit at home and watch the fireworks from my bedroom window,” Ilhoon shakes his head to himself with a small laugh. “I tend to hate things like this, actually, but I thought... I just thought that I—”
“Hey! I guess the two of you made it,” Eunkwang interrupts from literally nowhere, two glasses in his hand – one most likely belonging to Minhyuk. “Looking sharp, boys.”
He’s gone as quickly as he had appeared, but the moment’s already over. Perhaps he’s saved Ilhoon though since he had nothing planned out in his head and still doesn’t now. Eunkwang wouldn’t be Eunkwang without all of his hidden blessings and his inability to accurately read the atmosphere.
“Anyway, I’m happy that you decided to come,” Hyunsik turns back towards Ilhoon. “Not that it has anything to do with me, but I’ve never been the biggest fan of hanging around here by myself.”
Oh, Hyunsik. It has absolutely everything to do with you. Ilhoon wouldn’t force himself out of bed on what’s essentially a day off for no reason.
They find some seats off to the side, out of the way, meaning perfect for them to continue conversation and avoid everybody else. It’s as if only they exist right now as the hordes start to seem like nothing, as Ilhoon only has ears for Hyunsik and he only has eyes for him – he doesn’t look away once. And perhaps, by a chance more likely than Ilhoon would hope, Minhyuk has noticed them sitting there, is thinking that he’d been lied to the other day and that Ilhoon is the least trustworthy person he’s ever known. Who knows, really. Who cares at this very moment – not Ilhoon, nor Hyunsik.
Well, maybe just a bit.
“Um—hyung, a few days ago,” Ilhoon lowers his glass, almost empty, to his lap. “Do you remember after the meeting,”
“Minhyuk had to speak to you, didn’t he?” Hyunsik recalls better than expected.
“Yes, that,” Ilhoon nods and he hesitates to tell the truth. “It was about you—us, I don’t know,” he shakes his head. There’s no need to bring it up. “It doesn’t matter.”
“Are you sure you don’t want to talk about it?”
“Yeah. It was nothing, really.”
What Minhyuk doesn’t know won’t kill him anyway – he’s unaware of their dinner arrangements, what happened at Christmas, most of this – and perhaps the two of them are friends and that’s it. There’s nothing to Minhyuk’s suspicions or anything that Hyunsik does after all. Ilhoon hasn’t a clue either way – nobody said that relationships were simple.
As the night progresses, guests begin to head outdoors in order to find a good spot and wait for the firework display that’ll begin at the turn of the year. It’s becoming less crowded in here now, less noisy, but if that means being more easily found by Minhyuk then it could be worth following everybody else out.
“How about we go on a walk?” Hyunsik asks like he’s been reading Ilhoon’s mind.
They grab their coats and leave by the nearest exit. It’s pitch black outside other than the lights lining the streets, most people resting along the railing overlooking the river above which the show will take place later. And it’s chilly, sure, but it doesn’t seem so bad with Hyunsik this close. (There’s no way that he could possibly radiate enough warmth to make Ilhoon forget about the cold, but him just being here has him believing it.)
“Have you ever spent New Year’s with somebody, Hoonie?” he asks out of the blue, and Ilhoon shakes his head. “Me neither. I mean, not like this.”
Like this – wandering around with no particular aim, allowing their personal space to overlap and smiles to take over their faces even if they’re talking about absolutely nothing that would warrant such joy. ‘This’ meaning nobody else, even if they’re surrounded by so many strangers at this exact moment. None of them really matter.
Ilhoon checks his watch as they continue past everyone, near an emptier area with only a few people around. There are about fifteen minutes left until midnight yet time doesn’t seem to have passed at all.
A drop of rain lands on his hair once they’ve stopped, another shortly after on his palm as he’s holding it out, and suddenly it’s showering down without much other warning. The crowds remain unmoved despite the sounds of upset here and there, but Hyunsik’s got his arm around Ilhoon’s shoulder now and he’s guiding him somewhere away from this place without a word, ushering him towards the sheltered entrance of a closed restaurant.
Well, this is one way to avoid the rain.
“Your hair,” Hyunsik says so quietly, if it was raining heavier than this Ilhoon wouldn’t have heard him. “Look at me.”
Ilhoon does just that for a second, although he has to focus elsewhere straight after for his heart’s sake. Hyunsik takes the damp strands of his bangs away from his eyes with the tips of his fingers, cares to make them neat and tidy as well. Somehow, this feels far too intimate to Ilhoon for what it actually is.
He can’t even thank him.
“I don’t mean to sound boring, but this is the first time in years that I’ve been excited for the holidays,” Hyunsik leans back against the wall behind them.
Ilhoon turns to him, curious, “Really? How come?”
“Something’s a little different this year,” he pauses. “You’re here.”
A reminder that they’re not the only two people on Earth – a loud countdown coming from where they had left not long ago – interrupts them momentarily.
“I guess what I’m trying to say is that I’m glad that we could spend tonight together, and that there’s no one else that I would rather be with right now,” Hyunsik tries to speak over them and everything’s happening way too quickly for Ilhoon to even comprehend. If he’s correct here, it seems that he really hasn’t been mistaken for once. “No, what I mean is this.”
Hyunsik inches closer and closer, and Ilhoon simply braces himself for what he hopes more than anything isn’t a jump to a conclusion – the one that he’s only been imagining would happen every single time they’ve been together as just the two of them, his favourite fantasy that’s been recurring since almost the start. His heart is volatile – unsteady and fast, yet so full of something warm and free from doubt.
The fireworks are beginning but Ilhoon barely registers them at all, regardless of the vivid colours simultaneously bursting in near deafening explosions. Hyunsik’s beautiful even in this darkness, his eyes lowered into a gentle gaze. After seconds that seem so slowed when everything around them is moving at such a rapid pace, he takes it upon himself to close the gap between them, presses a light kiss to Ilhoon’s cheek first, another to his lips that lasts for a little longer than he had anticipated.
The fireworks in his mind are far greater than the ones in the sky.
Hyunsik pulls away, a smile with a tinge of wariness on his face, “I wonder if Minhyuk would kill me for this.”
Not that he’s a guy to be feared – he’s just a few levels above Eunkwang, really – or that he had threatened any action the other day, but Minhyuk does call the shots around the firm and its his baby. Anything getting in the way he’d certainly deal with however he sees fit.
On second thought, as long as they’re smart about things, he actually doesn’t have to find out the true extent of this at all.
“Who’s going to let him know? Not me,” Ilhoon smiles back as he shrugs.
Point taken. Hyunsik kisses him again, and what a perfect welcome this is to the New Year. Ilhoon’s never looked too forward to one before, but none have had Hyunsik in them until now.
“Come around tomorrow—today,” he corrects himself as they’re in his car, on the way to Ilhoon’s place and the night is ending, but without regret this time. “I’ll pick you up at, let’s say, twelve and we can have lunch together. I’ve got a surprise for you.”
At least one of them is prepared, and clearly very much so. Ilhoon’s still barely coming to terms with the fact (or otherworldly miracle) that feelings are mutual for once in his life, and thankfully with somebody who isn’t part of his collection of embarrassing past crushes. Guess God’s been looking out for him after all – things couldn’t be sweeter than this.