Chapter Text
The problem with being Lee Felix’s friend is that he’s very hard to say no to. He does this thing with his face where his round eyes sparkle, his cupid’s-bow lips pout and suddenly Seungmin’s saying yes to everything. It’s landed him in some undesirable situations before, like running away from Felix’s horrible ex with their cat stuffed under his hoodie, and owning up to Felix’s mistake in his stead to be crucified by their horrible boss.
Sometimes, on very rare occasions, saying yes to Felix can lead to good things. For example, moving in with him was a very good decision; they get to game together and he bakes incredible brownies. Also, Seungmin got his current job after Felix told him to apply. That’s the weapon he arms himself with when utilising Seungmin as a buffer against their boss, so maybe it’s not actually that good, but that’s not the point.
The point is, when Felix gives him that stupid ‘I’m about to make you want to get hit by a bus but you won't say no because I'm cute' face, it incurs a fear so strong that sweat drips down the back of Seungmin’s neck.
Or maybe it’s just that unbearably hot in this goddamn office. It’s the middle of summer and their boss has not bothered to get the aircon fixed, some shit about it ‘not being in the budget.’ A lawsuit over neglect leading to death isn’t, either.
“What?” Seungmin grunts, without looking at Felix, who put Seungmin's coffee on his desk two minutes ago and has been lingering ever since.
“Can I ask you for something?”
“No.”
“Please,” Felix whines, ducking his head in front of Seungmin’s computer to interrupt him from his argument with Excel, that he is losing. Annoyingly, it blocks the cool air from the fan, which is the only good part about his day.
“Fix my Excel spreadsheet and you can ask me anything you like,” he barters, only for Felix’s nose to wrinkle.
"As if I know shit about excel."
"That's the point."
“What if I get Jisung from IT to fix it, can I ask you a question then?” he asks, tilting his head even further so the crusty bleach-blonde ends of his hair tickle the top of Seungmin’s hand.
Jisung from IT has been one of their best friends for two years. It’s just fun to refer to him as ‘Jisung from IT.’ He doesn’t like it and will whine that it makes him sound like, God forbid, some sort of incel, and Felix and Seungmin always had great fun reminding him that he was, in fact, an incel. That was before Minho from marketing came along and spoiled all the fun by dating him.
“You really think Jisung from IT will let you bother him with my spreadsheet?” Seungmin scratches at his hand as he rolls back in his chair to look at Felix properly.
“Jisung from IT loves me and would love to fix it if I asked.”
“Because you’re his twin from another minge, or whatever you call yourselves?”
“We do not call ourselves twins from another minge!” Felix shrieks, pulling the attention of co-workers who peer over at them with disgust quivering on their lips. He bobs his head in apology and turns back to hiss, “It’s the twins for the win.”
“Mine was better," Seungmin grumbles, reaching around Felix to pull his desk fan closer.
Sweet, sweet release.
“Whatever. Look, if I get him to fix your spreadsheet can you please, please do me a favour? I won’t ask for another favour until July!” Felix promises, shooting a couple of finger guns Seungmin’s way.
Seungmin blinks. “It’s the twenty-first of June.”
“Exactly! That’s loads of time. Please?” Cue the ‘I'm about to make you want to get hit by a bus but you won't say no because I'm cute’ face.
It’s the face that started their friendship, but if Seungmin knew Felix was going to use it against him so often, maybe he wouldn’t have approached him.
They met at the start of their second year of university. Seungmin was sitting on top of a low brick wall, watching Felix who was turning in a slow circle with a frown on his face, obviously lost. Just as Seungmin was debating whether to help or not, their eyes met. Felix’s shined with tears and his lips pushed up and Seungmin was across the courtyard before he’d told his feet to move.
He squints. “What’s the favour?”
Felix’s eyes glimmer with hope. Yes readies itself on the tip of Seungmin’s tongue, slipping into its coat and shoes for its journey out of his mouth and into the world.
“So you know how Chan from HR finally, finally asked me on a date?” Felix says, first reminding Seungmin of his struggle in order to score some emotional value points. His tactics are well-known, by now, if still undefeatable.
Seungmin hums. Of course he knows. Felix has been bringing it up in ten minute periods ever since it happened.
“Well, we were saying how it might lessen the tension a bit if we met up in a group setting first. He’s secretly quite shy, I think, and you know how bad I am when I get nervous–”
“Chicken has meat in it,” Seungmin mocks, using one of the lines from Felix’s last date, which failed spectacularly. It earns him a dead-eyed look from his friend. “Sorry. Continue.”
“Yeah, so, we were thinking of a group setting, but inviting all of our mutual friends to a date isn’t exactly very romantic, so we thought it could kind of be, like, a double date vibe,” Felix explains, circling his hands in the air as if he’s doing some sort of spell.
“Right. And I suppose you want me to be included in this double date?” Seungmin predicts.
“Yeah…” Felix confirms.
Okay. Maybe it’s really easy to say no to Lee Felix when the favour he wants includes romance. Not to be a romancephobe or anything, but that shit didn’t end well last time, and the idea of going through it again, even as a pretence to make Chanlix feel more comfortable, fills Seungmin with maggots.
“Can’t you just take Minsung? Jisung from IT will whine like a bitch if you go on a double date and don’t take him.”
It’s a fair point to make. Jisung has been trying to get Felix to take him and Minho on a first date for ages. For some reason, he thinks it’ll be a 'fun time.' Seungmin cannot think of anything worse than taking Minsung on a first date, and Felix must feel the same judging by the wince on his face.
“Look. I love Minsung, I do, but they are not on first-date level of romance. I think bringing them would cause more pressure than anything. It needs to be a couple who’s also on a first date so they can match the vibe, you know?” Felix explains, reaching for the rubber band ball on Seungmin’s desk.
It is instantly confiscated. Felix cannot be trusted with such things, lest he ping one at Seungmin’s head again.
“I get that, but aren’t double dates usually for established couples?” Seungmin asks, chucking his rubber band ball in the top drawer of his desk.
It bounces out and rolls to the wall, where it’ll have to remain because he might actually expire if he has to exert any amount of effort in this fucking oven of an office.
“They are, but–”
“Who’s going on a double date?” a voice chimes in, and then Hwang Hyunjin hooks his chin over Felix’s shoulder. “Mr. Anti-Romantic?”
Seungmin huffs, wheeling himself closer to his monitor to focus on his spreadsheet again. He’ll win this fight with or without Jisung from IT if it means avoiding this double date.
“Hyunjin, don’t scare him off!” Felix whispers, reaching his fingers back to jab into his friend’s side.
“You scared him off when you mentioned romance,” Hyunjin states, which is annoyingly true, but he doesn’t need to know.
Felix shakes Hyunjin off and dips his head in front of Seungmin again, blocking the fan for the second time.
“Please, Minnie. At least think about it, I would really appreciate–”
“Lee, Hwang, this is not church coffee morning. Return to your desks, please,” Mr. Park calls from where he’s poked his head out of his office door, pointing at the two employees who quickly start to scatter from Seungmin’s desk.
Park Jinyoung is far from Seungmin’s favourite person in the world, but by God is Seungmin thankful for his existence right now.
“Think about it,” Felix says, picking up his coffee with one hand while pointing at Seungmin with the other. “It’ll be the best decision you ever make. You won’t regret it.”
Somehow, Seungmin doubts that. At least Felix has finally moved out of the way of the fan. Now he can get back to his argument with Excel and–
“Kim Seungmin, come into my office please.”
Oh good. As if this day needed to get any better.
Holding in an astronomical sigh more powerful than the hadron collider, Seungmin pushes himself out from his desk and walks over to his boss’ office. The movement is enough to have sweat dripping down his back. Fuck summer and fuck global warming, for real.
Once he reaches the door, Mr. Park waves at him to go in first and then follows, shutting them in. The only positive to this is the air conditioning actually works in Mr. Park’s office. It feels like being oven baked for hours and then put in the fridge without having cooled at room temperature. Soggy.
“Sit down, Mr. Kim,” Mr. Park says, rounding his desk to sit in his big black office chair, that’s large enough to be compensating for something. It’s a ridiculous size, to the point it doesn’t even fit in the gap under the desk.
Seungmin takes a seat in one of the smaller chairs that don’t spin which is definitely one of Mr. Park’s tactics to gain authority over his employees.
“I need to talk to you about a staffing issue,” Mr. Park begins.
“Staffing issue? I don’t have anything to do with HR,” Seungmin replies.
Mr. Park doesn’t look impressed with Seungmin’s comment, but he never is. He puts up with it as Seungmin is one of his most competent workers. God knows how; he's only doing this job because he needs money to survive and his degree in music isn’t getting him anywhere.
“One of the other teams have been short-staffed for a while and are falling behind on their targets. They requested some support to pick up the slack,” Mr. Park starts.
Seungmin thinks back to his Excel spreadsheet sitting on his desktop. Maybe the other department wants broken formulae and inaccurate figures.
“They can email me some documents and I can attempt to complete them, but I’m not sure if I’ll be able to do so sufficiently without proper access to all of their data. I’d have to be given access to their shared drive and their information on the system…”
Mr. Park’s face contorts. Whatever sentence comes out of his mouth next will annoy Seungmin for the following fifty years.
“I said I’d transfer somebody on a temporary basis to help. As you are an efficient worker, I plan on sending you to support them,” Mr. Park explains.
Yup. That’s annoying.
“But sir, I’ve got deadlines–”
“It’s only for a couple of weeks. Your team can help you out, too, and you’ll be compensated for overtime. Just make sure it’s not too much, okay? We are not made of money,” Mr. Park chuckles.
Seungmin’s responding smile wouldn’t look out of place on the face of a serial killer.
“And what team would I be temporarily transferring to?” he asks.
Mr. Park has the opportunity to do something so astronomically annoying that Seungmin will explode, leaving his boss to clean Seungmin-gloop off his office walls for the next fifteen hours.
Because it’s annoying to have to work in a different team with an entirely different set of data. It’s annoying that there’s so much room for error, especially as he’ll be mixing it with work from his own team and his own data. It’s annoying that most of the overtime he’ll inevitably end up doing will be going unpaid.
But nothing, not a single damn thing, would be more annoying than Mr. Park asking him to work in sales team three.
“You’ll be transferred to sales team three.”
Seungmin explodes internally. On the outside, he simply nods.
“Thanks, Kim. I knew I could count on you.”
Nodding continuously, as if it could help him accept the situation, Seungmin excuses himself and returns to the office. The heat slams into him almost as harshly as he slams his head into his desk when he sits back in his seat.
***
There’s a pub a couple of streets away from the company that Seungmin, Hyunjin and Felix frequent after long days. Short days, too. They’re there quite a lot.
Seungmin likes it. It’s got low yellow lighting that’s relieving after staring at a screen all day, and comfy leather-seat booths to sink into after hours of sitting on an uncomfortable office chair. The drinks are reasonably priced, too, and the patrons are happy to keep to their own and enjoy their night peacefully.
Plus, sales team three never come here. One of them got banned for throwing up on the owner.
The condensation on Seungmin’s glass almost allows his beer to slip from his hand when he raises it. As a result the liquid sloshes onto his upper lip and splashes the tip of his nose. He grunts but doesn’t lower it, eager to gulp the golden liquid down for some damned peace of mind. After today, he needs it.
“Damn, Seungminnie’s in Friday mode,” Felix comments, watching the liquid level in Seungmin's glass get lower and lower.
“And on a Thursday, how radical,” Hyunjin drawls, sipping on sparkling water because he’s on an alcohol detox.
Seungmin gasps and thunks his half-empty glass on the table.
“You’re just jealous you can’t drink,” he states, wiping his upper lip with his sleeve.
“Drinking is bad for you,” Hyunjin retorts, as if he wasn’t the worst out of the three of them in university.
“You know, just because Changbin’s fixated himself on sobriety for his latest health kick, doesn’t mean you have to.” Seungmin certainly wouldn’t, if he were Hyunjin.
“I know I don’t, but I’m doing it in solidarity. That’s what you do when you love someone, Kim Seungmin. Being a romancephobe, you wouldn’t understand,” Hyunjin huffs, raising his chin as if he doesn’t sound like an insufferable twat.
Seungmin likes his friends, he does. But their agenda is wank.
“Just wait until the next time Park pisses you off, then you’ll be in Friday mode,” he mutters, reaching for the other half of his beer.
“That bad?” Felix asks, before taking a sip of whatever blue, sparkly thing he’s ordered.
Seungmin would argue that’s more Friday mode than his beer, being blue and sparkly and probably containing vodka, but he knows he’ll be met with Felix’s ‘I’m an Australian’ argument.
Seungmin waits until the other half of his beer is in his stomach before he replies.
“Yeah.”
“We can tell,” Hyunjin says. His nose wrinkles slightly as he watches Seungmin slap his chest and burp.
“What did he want?” Felix again.
Now Seungmin wrinkles his nose. “He wants me to help another team with their workload. Apparently they’ve been short for a while and they’re falling behind. As if we aren’t already struggling under our own deadlines.”
“I hope he’s not sending you to the insufferable snobs in team one. Love you, Seungminnie, but Felix and I cannot afford bail if you slaughter them all,” Hyunjin says.
It’s true that team one are up their own arses, constantly pushing the fact that they’re the primary team as if they don’t do the same fucking work as the rest, but honestly, Seungmin would take them over sales team three any day.
“I won’t get the chance; he’s not sending me to team one.”
“Four?”
“Three.”
“Oh, that’s fine, then!” Felix chirps, swirling his straw around his drink. “Jeonginnie’s in that team!”
Yes. Yang Jeongin’s in that team. That’s the whole fucking problem. Not that Felix and Hyunjin suspect that, anyway, considering Yang Jeongin is in their circle.
There’s eight of them; Kim Seungmin, Lee Felix and Hwang Hyunjin from sales team two, who are all friends from university. They used to live together, but Hyunjin moved in with his boyfriend Seo Changbin, another member of the group, so now only Felix and Seungmin remain.
Changbin works at their company doing… fuck all, probably, considering he seems to spend more time in the building’s gym than at his desk in the finance department. He’s a mathematical genius, though, and Hyunjin’s always going on about how attractive he is when he’s got his glasses perched on his nose, staring down at those numbers with his brows furrowed like they’re misbehaving… fuck…
Okay, that doesn’t need to be remembered.
Then there’s Lee Minho from marketing. They work closely with him, as marketing passes on potential client leads for sales to chase. Before they met Minho in person, Hyunjin was scared of him and Seungmin thought he was a bit of a knob. Then Felix went and befriended him because he’s Felix, and they all quickly worked out that he’s lovely, but sucks at talking to strangers over email and the phone. That’s why I don’t do sales, Minho said.
Minho’s dating Han Jisung, aka Jisung from IT, who became their friend because Hyunjin had an affinity for breaking his computer, and Felix liked chatting about PC setups to him whenever he came down to fix the mess Hyunjin made. He went to their university, but they never saw him around campus - mainly because he was never there. Social anxiety mixed with unhealthy incel habits, like wasting away in front of his computer screen and watching too much porn. Okay, the porn bit is more of an allegation than a truth, but Seungmin believes it. He had to stop teasing Jisung about it because he made a formal complaint to Bang Chan from HR.
Formally known as ‘Scary Chan’ for his resting bitch face and intimidating aura, Bang Chan from HR is the oldest friend in their group. Similarly to Minho, it took meeting him in person to realise that he’s actually nothing more than a puppy-dog in a tie. Most of the time, anyway. There's an ice-cold rage that Bang Chan contains deep within his soul. The man who got sent to him after touching Felix’s arse probably never left his office. He’s most-likely rotting in the vents, or under the floorboards. Then again, that’s his own fault for targeting Felix; Chan’s unproclaimed but undeniable favourite.
Chan doesn’t have favourites, so he says, but if he did (he does), his second favourite would be the last member of their group, Yang Jeongin.
Yang Jeongin is the youngest and works in sales team three. He looks like a fox and smiles too much and is Seungmin’s least favourite person in the group. Nay, the company. And the country. The world, too.
“Jeongin’s in that team?” Seungmin asks, as if he isn’t painfully aware.
“Yup! I know you two haven’t managed to meet yet, but I think you would get along well.”
Seungmin groans and grabs his phone to order another beer.
Two beers turn to three, to four, to five, to tipsy, to drunk.
Drunk on a Thursday. Seungmin will regret it, but Felix and Hyunjin started gushing over how cute Jeongin is and how much fun it’ll be to work in a team with him, and Seungmin couldn’t keep his lips off his glass.
And, as if they’re aiming to black him out by the end of the evening, Felix perks up just as he’s finishing his seventh beer, with, “Oh, Seung, did you think any more about the double date?”
Seungmin shakes his head. “Nope. No. ‘M’not doing that.”
Felix’s lips turn up into a pout. “Okay…”
“No!” Hyunjin blurts. “No ‘okay’ about it. Seungmin. Felix needs support, and I get that you’re Mr. Anti-romantic but you’ve gotta show up for him!”
“Anti-r’mantic my arse. I’m so r’mantic. You two just suck,” Seungmin claims, jabbing his fingers in his friends’ direction. Maybe the seventh beer was too much. Maybe he should have taken himself home the moment they mentioned Yang Jeongin’s name.
Hyunjin raises his eyebrows and crosses his arms.
“When was the last time you showed any ounce of romanticism, huh? We’ve known you for years, Seungmin. You’ve never dated, or even had any interest in anyone. You don’t use dating apps and you don’t do hookups and you scoff at even the idea of going on a first date. If that’s not anti-romance, I don’t know what is.”
“Yeah! I don’t think I’ve ever heard you talking about a crush,” Felix joins in, because of course he’s going to tack onto this if it’ll get him what he wants. “You can’t claim to be ‘so romantic’ when you’re scared of going on a first date.”
“I'm not scared,” Seungmin protests, forcing the words out without slurring to show that he has a clear-mind behind his conclusion, because he does. So what if he’s a little reserved? That doesn’t mean shit.
“Will you go on Felix’s double date, then?” Hyunjin asks, a small smirk pulling at his lips.
“Will I fuck,” Seungmin replies.
“You won’t, romancephobe,” Felix accuses. “Mr. Anti-romantic.”
“Lonely Boy,” Hyunjin says.
“Scaredy-cat.”
“One date wonder.”
“M’not a one date wonder.” Seungmin reaches for Felix’s sparkly blue drink, but his hand is batted away.
“Where’s the proof? You’ve never been on one,” Hyunjin claims.
Inaccurate. Granted, it’s been a long, long while since Seungmin last went on one, but he’s had the unfortunate opportunity to experience the uncomfortable time-waste that is a first date. And he says as much.
“First dates are not a waste of time!” Felix defends, possibly with the most passion Seungmin has heard from him all week. “They’re the start of a connection with another person that could last for life! It’s finding somebody to love enough to give every part of your soul, and to stand by while the world burns. How could that be a waste of time?”
“That was Hyunjin level dramatic,” Seungmin drawls, this time succeeding in stealing Felix’s drink.
“Hey!” Hyunjin protests.
Felix ignores him. “What could be so bad about that, Seungie?”
Seungmin shifts, his lips pursing in distaste. Somewhere in his mind there’s a warning alarm trying to prevent the disaster that’s about to spill from his lips, but he can’t hear it through his seven beers.
“Because y’go on the first date, and they’re everything y’ever wanted, and fit so well, and y’think… fuck, this might be it for me. But then ‘s’not, and it sucks, and y’wanna die. ‘S what’s so bad about that.”
Silence.
Then, Hyunjin says, “Fuck, Seungminnie, who hurt you?”
Seungmin snorts and finishes the rest of Felix’s drink.
Felix sighs and decides it’s time for them all to go home.
***
There’s one thing worse than roasting in a boiling office.
Roasting in a boiling office hungover.
And there’s one thing worse than roasting in a boiling office hungover.
That’s roasting in sales team three’s boiling office while hungover.
With such delights in store for him, Seungmin is ecstatic to drag himself out of bed and into work. He doesn’t consider throwing himself down the apartment building stairwell, or in front of a car, or onto the rails of the Seoul Metropolitan Subway. Not once.
Felix is the only reason he gets to work, after being the only reason Seungmin got back from the bar last night. He puts painkillers in his palm before they leave and keeps him in line with gentle redirection like the world’s softest sheepdog, until they’re standing in front of the lift in the office building.
“Why the fuck am I here?” Seungmin complains, his voice low and scratchy. Apparently he was shouting about love being a scam on the way home from the pub, but he doesn’t particularly remember much of the walk. The blue sparkly shit took him out.
“To pay your half of the rent,” Felix answers, shepherding Seungmin into the lift.
Seungmin hopes the cable snaps and they go plummeting to their death. Him so he doesn’t have to see Yang Jeongin, Felix for letting him drink his drink, and the other people in the lift are simply collateral. They’re probably not that important so it’s fine. It’s a mean thing to think but Seungmin doesn’t feel particularly lovely right now.
Paranoia sets in when they’re out of the lift.
Felix has taken it upon himself to personally deliver Seungmin to sales team three’s office, and it’s a good thing because he can’t help looking at everything other than where he’s going. Yang Fucking Jeongin is haunting the corners of his eyes.
“Try not to throw up, okay?” Felix says, planting him outside of the door. “Do you need a Berocca?”
“What the fuck is a Berocca?”
Berocca, as it turns out, is a tablet that goes in water and fizzes into a bright orange drink. It’s some sort of vitamin energy thing that will supposedly cure Seungmin’s hangover. Hopefully it can also cure violent impulses, because Park Jinyoung might wind up dead in the next ten minutes, and that won’t look good on Seungmin’s record.
Anyway. Berocca in hand, Seungmin goes into the office. His first thought is that they’re all bastards because they have working air conditioning, and his second thought is that it’s an apology from God for having him transferred into the same team as Yang Idiot Jeongin.
He’s halfway through sweeping his eyes around the room when someone stops in front of him.
“Hey, you’re the backup from team two, yeah?”
They’re tall, with honey skin and big, tapioca pearl eyes that are worse than Felix’s, somehow. These aren’t begging for Seungmin to do something that will make him want to throw himself in front of a bus, though. There’s a deepness that stops them being sweet, something almost calculative and intelligent that turns a doe into an owl.
“Uh, yeah.”
“I’m Kang Taehyun,” they greet, with a bow.
Seungmin bows and mumbles his name in return. The bow makes him feel a little like throwing up all over Taehyun’s shiny oxfords, but he holds it in. There’s debate over whether it helps or hinders him.
“I’ll show you to the desk you’ll be using while you’re with us,” Taehyun says, gesturing for Seungmin to follow him through the office.
He does, eyes straying to every crack and crevice where a fox might be hiding. He doesn’t see one.
“Here we are,” Taehyun says, gesturing to a desk in the corner of the room. It’s covered in stacks of random paperwork which people swoop in to claim, obviously a temporary storage space. That's a major violation of GDPR.
Seungmin waits until it’s clear before he puts his bag down. Taehyun explains that he’s already asked IT to give Seungmin access to their shared drive, that he’ll email over some simple tasks for him to pick up, and then asks if he has any questions.
“Where’s your water cooler? I have a Berocca.”
After explaining what a Berocca is as if he didn’t find out himself five minutes ago, Seungmin trudges over to the water cooler. It’s stocked with plastic cups and the super cold option works, more annoying things about sales team three. What did they do to be deserving of such luxury? They’re not even the team with the highest gross.
The water cooler takes too long. Seungmin doesn’t have much brain power to do anything other than watch the water level of his cup rise. That’s probably why he misses the sound of a familiar name from the other side of the office, distinguishable giggles and the voice that was once a lullaby. That’s why he looks up when he sees someone moving in his peripheral instead of keeping his eyes on his shoes.
Looking at Yang Jeongin’s face feels like a hammer to the ribcage, as it always does. Somehow, throughout the years, Seungmin’s never gotten used to it.
Yang Jeongin looks much the same as he ever did. Black hair that shines under the fluorescent office lights, dusting above sharp eyes that would make him appear mean if not for the matching set dimples-and-grin that sit beneath them. His lips are slightly chapped, probably been picked, but the skin of his cheeks is clear, soft-looking, and Seungmin can feel it under his fingertips. He presses them into the rough material of his trousers.
Despite Jeongin's similar appearance, he looks completely different to when Seungmin last saw him. There’s no frown squeezing the space between his eyebrows, and no tears littering his cheeks. His chapped lips don’t quiver under the force of unhappy sobs, and his eyes aren’t glaring with pain, rather gleaming with play.
But Seungmin catches a glimpse of the one he used to know. When this Yang Jeongin looks over, feeling Seungmin’s eyes, and his whole face dims. The dimples hide in his cheeks, and lips cover his teeth, and his eyes drain of light.
There he is. Innie. Seungmin’s ex.
Nausea pushes at his stomach. His eyes snap to the floor, and he escapes to his temporary desk to shield himself behind the computer, suddenly unable to tolerate perception. He busies himself with dropping his Berocca into the water, where it fizzes and colours the liquid orange, and ignores the eyes that are trying to melt through his monitor to scorch him, too.
“Yo, earth to Jeongin?” a voice says, too far for Seungmin to hear properly without straining his ears.
“Huh?”
There’s a laugh, teasing. “I was asking if you wanted coffee.”
Seungmin’s nostrils flare. His Jeongin hated coffee.
“Sure. Yeah. Coffee.”
This isn’t his Jeongin.
Seungmin stares into his Berocca and shoves that information into every crack and crevice of his brain. No more observations. No more comparisons. No more unnecessary thoughts. The fox across the office is not the same one who yipped and squeaked underneath Seungmin’s fingertips, that burrowed into his side and shoved its face into his neck to sniff and lick at him like the wild animal it was. It’s one that might bite if he gets too close.
And Seungmin would rather stay far, far away.
Staying far away, however, is difficult when contained within four walls. It proves even more difficult given that Jeongin’s assigned desk is in line with Seungmin’s own, on the other side of the room. Tension builds uncomfortably in his neck with every minute that he forces his head to stay looking straight.
It gets especially painful considering how often Choi Beomgyu wanders over to Jeongin’s desk.
Beomgyu’s this tall guy with moppy hair, a wide nose and lips that are better off shut. He has a loud, whiny voice and his laugh is obtrusive and ugly.
Obtrusive could actually be used to describe Beomgyu as a whole. He might as well be a human Berocca given the amount of energy he bounces around with, and it’s frustratingly distracting. How the fuck does Jeongin manage to get any work done with a man like that hanging around his desk?
Taehyun must think the same way, given the amount of times he redirects Beomgyu back to his seat, something Seungmin is hugely grateful for at every instance. Not because he can’t stand the way Beomgyu wraps his arms around Jeongin’s neck and hangs off of him, or because he can’t handle watching Beomgyu run his hands – which are smaller than Seungmin’s, by the way – through Jeongin’s glossy black hair. It’s because Seungmin is trying to make phone calls, and having Beomgyu practically vibrate in the corner of his eye is off-putting. It’s badly affecting his pitches that are already suffering thanks to his weary brain.
By lunchtime, Seungmin is ready to snap. He storms out of the office the second the clock hits midday. He doesn’t stop until he’s reached team two’s office, where Felix is emerging.
His face lights up. “Hey Seungminnie! Are you–”
“Fine, I’ll come on your damn double date with you!” Seungmin huffs, shocking Felix, whose smile falls faster than Seungmin’s sales rates.
“I wasn’t even going to ask–”
Seungmin takes Felix’s arm and tugs him towards the lift.
“Lunch. I’m starving,” he gives in explanation.
Felix makes the wise decision to stay silent until Seungmin’s had a sandwich.
***
Regret is easily felt. It plagues Seungmin through the afternoon, taunting him with the reminder that he can’t go home and collapse after work, but instead has to turn up to a date.
It’s not as if he can call it off, though; After he finished his sandwich, Felix thanked him profusely, saying that his backup option had been Choi Yeonjun from sales team four. Yeonjun laughed, showed him a picture of his new boyfriend, a pretty boy named Soobin, and wished Felix better luck for next time. Felix was panicking because he wasn’t sure who else to ask, and Chan had already found somebody. He was about to resort to asking Jung Wooyoung from their team, even though everyone knows he fancies Choi San from HR (which is why he gets in trouble so often), when Seungmin agreed.
It was a moment of weakness and should never have happened, but Seungmin can’t leave his friend in the lurch. Damn his fucking soft spot for Felix.
When's the next bus?
Instead, Seungmin forces himself through the painful afternoon hours on sheer determination and another Berocca, which he takes a sip of every time his hand tingles, raring to slap over Choi Beomgyu’s mouth. How anyone ever gets any work done in sales team three, Seungmin will never fucking know.
At the end of the day, he takes an unnecessary amount of time to save all his files, log out of the system, tidy his desk and gather his things. He waits until the office has emptied itself, and fucking Choi Beomgyu has removed himself from the premises (because god forbid Seungmin gets in a lift with that motherfucker) until he leaves his seat.
Grumbling to himself, he shuffles through the office and towards the lifts. He can’t even walk with Felix, who used two hours of his annual leave to go home early and get ready for the date. It isn't clear what he needs two hours to do, but it’s probably something grim like waxing his arsehole and Seungmin doesn’t need that mental image.
The lift is empty when it opens on his floor. he mentally thanks the corporate gods and steps inside, jabbing his finger into the ground floor button.
The doors are just sliding closed when–
“Hold the lift!”
He doesn’t want to. It’s pure reflex that has his hand shooting out to tap the ‘open doors’ button.
Reflex has never been his enemy. Not until the doors swoosh back open, and his eyes catch the person on the other side of them.
Yang Jeongin. Yang fucking Jeongin.
Uncoolly, Seungmin trips over his heel and harshly hits the back wall of the lift. Jeongin sees, because of course he does, hovering at the door like a fox debating the risk of stealing a chicken leg from a trap.
“Urm…” Jeongin says.
Seungmin snaps his head towards the wall. It’s either that, or scream ‘don’t fucking talk to me!’ in Jeongin’s face. Or, secret third option, throw up. Those Beroccas are not sitting as comfortably in his stomach as they once were.
Jeongin takes the hint. After an awkward Hokey-Cokey dance of right-foot-in, right-foot-out, in, out, in, out and shake it all about, he steps inside the lift. Seungmin tries not to laugh when the doors hit him on his way in, the lift fed up with him delaying its job. Deserved.
Finally, they close, and Seungmin’s fate is sealed.
Surprisingly, holes don’t melt in the wall despite the glare it’s receiving from him. He’s trying to ignore Jeongin’s shifting, a nervous habit he’s apparently not managed to kick. There’s also a small hum, covered by a cough, another unconscious quirk that’s painfully familiar.
Jeongin used to fall asleep on Seungmin's chest, and scare himself awake with an involuntary hum when he was right on the verge of his dreams. Seungmin used to joke that Jeongin’s beautiful voice couldn’t handle being trapped… Actually, no, that’s cringe as fuck and he would rather not remember.
“So… you were transferred to team three?” Jeongin says.
A third habit, anxious talking. He’s a secret rambler, which surprises strangers who often categorize him as quiet. Now all Jeongin needs to do is throw in a nervous giggle and he might as well be having a panic attack from Seungmin’s mere proximity.
“Temporarily. Not by choice.”
It’s the most they’ve said to each other in years, and it’s quite enough talking for at least the next decade.
Apparently, Jeongin doesn’t agree. Well, there are many things they don’t agree on.
“Right. Nice. When they said they were bringing in help, I didn’t think it could have been you. I mean, it crossed my mind, but I didn’t think it. I mean, logically, I know there was a probability of it being you, but I didn’t predict it being you. But then you were there. And it was you. Which was surprising, but also not. Because it could have always been you.”
It reminds Seungmin of the time he snuck into the back of Jeongin’s lecture in uni to offer him support while he did his presentation. Seungmin smiled at Jeongin the whole time, because he was the only person Jeongin could bear to make eye contact with. It was hard not to wince, especially as his clumsiness came into play, and he spilled the lecturer's coffee all over the computer. Seungmin forced his smile to stay because there was no way he was going to discourage Jeongin and make things worse.
Seungmin took him out for ice cream afterwards. Jeongin held back tears until someone jostled past him, and the triple-choco scoop on his cone made a dive, splattering all over the pavement in something reminiscent of his presentation; a big mess. Then he cried, and Seungmin hugged him, and Jeongin got snot all over his shirt.
That’s what this conversation is. A big mess. Listening to it is worse than having snot on his shirt.
“You don’t have to talk,” Seungmin says.
The clack of Jeongin’s teeth snapping shut sounds painful, but the silence it brings is relieving. Well, as relieving as being trapped in a lift with your ex who you haven’t spoken to since the break up can be.
Seungmin listens to the whir of the lift as it lowers them as if it’s his favourite song. The top spot in the charts is overtaken by the sound of the doors whooshing open.
Freedom.
Awkwardly, they both try to exit at the same time and knock shoulders. The contact makes the whole side of Seungmin’s body buzz. Maybe he’s having a stroke. Jeongin could probably cause one.
Muttered apologies follow, and then there’s a dash for the lobby doors. Seungmin’s faster because he’s better, and more deserving of being the first person to get a fulfilling gulp of the fresh evening air outside.
He doesn’t stop to relish it. He continues down the street swiftly, distance the best remedy.
Except. Except there’s footsteps echoing his own, the pace and gait too familiar to be mistaken.
Is Jeongin following him?
No. No. Pure madness. Utter woke nonsense. There is no way that Yang Jeongin would choose to follow him, Kim Seungmin, after their ruthless breakup years prior. What would be the point in them breaking up just for Jeongin to stalk him later on? It’s probably some other 172cm, fox-like man with glossy black hair and shiny eyes and dimples Seungmin could eat ice-cream out of.
But, just to be sure, Seungmin peeks over his shoulder, and–
Nope, Yang Jeongin is definitely fucking following me. Great.
That’s fine. It’s fine. Jeongin’s probably going to turn off at the next street.
Or the one after.
Maybe the one after that…
No, okay, what the fuck?
Gritting his teeth, Seungmin whips around. The action is much too violent for the state of his stomach, but he swallows the bile down.
“Are you following me?”
Jeongin freezes in place, his eyes pinging open to the widest Seungmin’s ever seen them. He didn’t know they could get so big.
“No,” he answers.
Seungmin’s own eyes narrow.
“I’m not!” Jeongin continues. “I’m going this way!”
“Hm.”
“I am!” he insists.
Fine. Jeongin’s going this way, whatever. The restaurant is just up the street, Seungmin only has to put up with it for a little while longer, and then he can duck inside and pretend Yang Jeongin doesn’t exist.
Nodding, Seungmin turns on his heel and continues his journey. For some reason, maybe self-harm, he counts every single one of his steps that has an echo until he’s pushing open the door to the restaurant, welcomed inside by warm air and the delectable smell of well-cooked food.
The hostess smiles at him.
“Welcome. Table for two?”
… TWO?
Seungmin’s head snaps over his shoulder. Jeongin’s standing behind him, his chin on his chest.
Taking a deep breath, Seungmin turns back to the woman.
“Reservation for Chan,” he tells her.
She nods. “Right this way, please.”
Following the hostess through the restaurant, Seungmin tries not to agonise over the reason why Jeongin has turned up to such a fancy establishment – one renowned for its intimate, romantic atmosphere, at that.
It’s alright. It’s alriiiiiiight. Jeongin can do whatever he likes.
A small breath leaves Seungmin’s lips when he sees Felix and Chan sitting at a table, and he overtakes the hostess in his eagerness to be seated and end whatever sick game God is playing with him.
“Seungmin!” Felix cheers, looking up at him with a sunny smile.
Chan turns his head, and he smiles, too.
But not at Seungmin.
No, he’s looking over Seungmin’s shoulder. Looking at–
“Jeongin!”
Seungmin stops so suddenly that he feels someone walk directly into his back. There’s a squeak, and then Jeongin passes him, rushing to sit next to Chan.
“Come on, Minnie - sit down!” Felix cheers, patting the space next to him.
The space opposite Yang Fucking Jeongin.
No revelation has ever hit Seungmin as hard as finding out that he’s been recruited to go on a double date with his ex.
His ex who broke up with him, by the way.
“Seungmin, aren’t you going to sit down?” Felix asks, his smile twisting with confusion.
“Yes,” Seungmin says. His feet do not move.
Felix frowns. “Seungmi-”
“I need the toilet. Excuse me.”
Thankfully, the direction he launches in is correct, because it would be embarrassing to have to turn around and go the other way. He zooms towards the toilets and crashes into them, shocking an old man who was about to open the door.
Mumbling an apology, Seungmin side-steps him and staggers over to the sink. His hands thunk onto the edges, and he pants at his reflection in the mirror, suddenly so close to his own face. It’s thunderstruck, pupils shaky in wide white eyes, jaw bobbing with every starved breath.
Vaguely, the warning of vomit blares in his mind, but it’s kept down by the overwhelming pressure in his chest. He can’t sit across from Jeongin, not when the last time ended with Seungmin’s whole existence being torn from reality and dropped into the endless void of space outside the universe.
But what excuse would he make? Nobody knows of their past. Seungmin has taken great care to appear as nothing but a stranger in Yang Jeongin’s outskirts, and he intends to keep it that way. There is no time to explain it all to Felix, and no desire to expose just how deep the cracks in his heart extend towards its core. Leaving now would only raise red flags, and ruin the date that Felix has been dreaming about since the first time he laid eyes on Bang Chan.
No. Christ, get it together.
Starting with his jaw. He closes it, and draws a long breath through his nose.
Next, his hands. He forces his fingers to stretch and soften, relinquishing their capture of the sink.
Then he straightens, and glares defiantly at his reflection.
Emotions will not fuck this up. Not when their appearance would fuck up everything else.
He nods, once, and then turns on his heel to return to the table.
“Sorry,” he says as he reaches it, tugging out the chair opposite his date. “I should have gone before I left the office.”
“No problem!” Felix cheers. “We’ve already ordered you a drink. Jeonginnie suggested it.”
Seungmin’s eyes flick up from the maroon tablecloth to the boy opposite, who flattens himself against the back of his chair.
They can barely hold eye contact for two seconds before they turn away.
“So, Felix, how was your day?” Chan asks, a riveting start to the conversation.
It has to be wondered how much rizz he actually has, and how much Felix makes up in his delusions.
“It was good!” Felix cheers, happy with anything because he’s on a date with Chan. “Very busy, and I missed Seungmin.”
“Oh? I thought you two were in the same team,” Chan says.
“I got transferred,” Seungmin grumbles, closely inspecting the artwork on the wall that vaguely resembles a pair of naked bodies made out of flowers, if he squints. “It’s temporary.”
“I remember. There’s someone missing from your team isn’t there, Innie?”
“Yeah,” Jeongin says. A magnificent contribution to polite conversation.
“How was your day, Channie?” Felix asks, propping his chin on his hands as if Chan’s about to relay a great tale of his time travelling the seven seas.
“It was alright. There’s a lot of recruitment work to be done, nothing too interesting–”
A waiter appears at the side of the table, a silver tray in hand. He lists the drinks and places them in front of their respective customers, until finally, one lands in front of Seungmin. He doesn’t wait to register what it is, fingers curling around the neck of the glass to bring it to his lips.
He downs it in one.
Espresso martini. Of course Jeongin would order him an espresso martini. Seungmin was obsessed with them in university.
It’s a stale reminder of the past.
The glass meets the table, and his eyes meet Felix’s, then Chan’s, both staring at him in mild shock.
“I don’t like espresso martinis,” Seungmin says.
“You sure seem like you do,” Chan chuckles, if a little alarmed.
“Had to get it out of the way.” Just like this date.
Seungmin’s eyes trail to the drink in front of Jeongin. A beer. He doesn’t like beer.
“A beer, huh?” Seungmin comments, because apparently he can’t help himself.
“I like beer,” Jeongin mumbles, catching the drips of condensation that run down the glass as he takes it in his hand.
Funny. Jeongin never used to like bitter things. That’s two today; coffee and beer. He used to make a face whenever he drank them, his nose scrunching as his lips turned down in distaste, and his already narrow eyes screwed into nothing.
But this Jeongin isn’t his Jeongin.
“Right,” Seungmin says. “Should we get another drink?”
“You’re the only one who’s finished,” Felix comments, before taking a sip of his own. A beer, this time, nothing sparkly. Does sparkly beer exist?
Seungmin nods and crosses his arms to feel some sort of control.
When the next drink turns up at the table, after more small talk between Chan and Felix with chimes of Jeongin here and there, Seungmin waits five minutes before he allows himself to pick the glass up.
“Jeongin, is this your first time meeting Seungmin?” Chan asks, pulling Seungmin’s attention from the naked flowers painting that he’s sure he could write an essay on by now.
“It is!” Felix answers for him. “It’s so strange that we’ve all been in a group for years, but you two have never met.”
“So strange.”
Perfect design.
“It is a little weird. I mean, but also not. We’re all working adults – very busy! It’s hard to find a day when we’re all free, you know? It would almost be weirder if we had all met, you know? Even Chan – you work in a whole different department! It’s weird that you’ve met us, you know?”
Oh good. Jeongin’s started rambling again. That bodes well for the survival of their secrets during tonight’s conversation.
Chan laughs. “Innie, I knew you before you started working at the company.”
Jeongin nods and takes a few large gulps of beer. When he pulls the glass away, he has a ridiculous foam moustache. Seungmin wants to throw a napkin at his face.
“Really, you two knew each other before?” Felix asks, curiously.
“Yeah. We bumped into each other – literally, I almost knocked Jeongin to the floor. I think Beomgyu was ready to square up to me until I apologised,” Chan laughs.
So Jeongin’s known Beomgyu since before he started working at the company? Wow. Coooool, cool, cool, cool, cooooooooool. They must be really good friends. Especially if Beomgyu is so protective of him! That’s just wonderful. So good that Jeongin has those supportive people surrounding him.
“Not sure he could beat you,” Seungmin says, quickly followed by, “I mean, you box, don’t you?”
Felix practically springs up in his seat. “You box?”
Chan laughs bashfully, his cheeks reddening a little. “Sometimes. I’m not that good, seriously…”
Discussion over Chan's boxing abilities take up most of the painstaking wait for the starters. Seungmin doesn't know anything about boxing so he uses the opportunity to keep his mouth shut, something Jeongin should learn how to do. He chimes in here and there with awkward, unnecessary comments, and Seungmin would bet good money that he is berating himself after each one.
Jeongin's blurting don't cause them a problem until the mains come out.
When the incident occurs, Chan's talking about his little brother, because Felix asked him how his family were getting on back in Australia. He's just mentioning Lucas' hobbies, says he's getting into baseball, and-
"Seungminnie likes baseball," Jeongin says.
Seungminnie likes bashing his head into tables. What was that? What the fuck was that? Why did Jeongin say that - using a nickname, too?
Chan raises his eyebrows while Felix smirks, devil fangs pointing out the sides of his mouth. He's totally getting the wrong end of the pitchfork.
"How do you know that, Innie?" he asks.
Jeongin visibly gulps, and looks at Seungmin as if he'll find a way out of this. And Seungmin would have helped, is the thing. Back when they were together, Seungmin corrected many of his blunders.
Not anymore. Jeongin can suffer.
"I, urm… I saw it."
"You saw it?" It's Chan now, pulling his own cheeky grin, and isn't one of Chanlix meant to be an angel if the other is a devil? This seems unfair.
"Yes. I saw it. I saw it on that place."
"That place?"
"Instagram," Jeongin finishes.
Felix's eyes flare, the exciting idea of Jeongin stalking Seungmin on Instagram overtaking his soul, and Seungmin considers stabbing his own out with his fork.
Pride is an awful thing. Seungmin should have handled the blunder. He should have said that they ran into each other on the way to the restaurant and had a chat, knowing that they have mutual friends, and baseball was mentioned. That would have been much more sensible.
Well. There's many things Seungmin should have done.
***
By some heavenly miracle, which may have been bestowed upon them simply because God felt bad that Seungmin had no angelic backup thanks to his devil friends, they survive dinner.
Nothing has to come of the crush Felix and Chan are suspecting Jeongin holds. They've finished the double date, and after Seungmin's done standing in for sales team three they can go back to imagining the other doesn't exist.
Except.
Except Chan tilts his head, and there's this stupid look on it that says I've just had an idea that will put Kim Seungmin specifically in the grave, and he opens his big, stupid mouth.
"Hey, guys, Lix and I are going to this event my friend is hosting - it's a fundraiser - and I've got four tickets. You should come."
I am going to buy a car just so I can hit you with it, Bang Christopher Chan.
"Oh, I, urm, can't. That day. I'm busy," Jeongin so intelligently says, despite not knowing what day the event is on.
Then again, if he still has that habit of booking himself up three months in advance, he might genuinely be busy without needing to check the day. Maybe that's their salvation. Maybe-
"No you're not," Felix chimes in, waving his phone tauntingly at the youngest. "Your calendar says you're free."
What kind of freak shares their calendar? Seriously. Seungmin would rather die than have his peace so forcefully invaded. God, why did he ever date Yang Jeongin?
"Oh. I must have been thinking of another day. Urm, surprise!"
… Surprise?
"I'm not going." Seungmin might physically give out if he has to live through this situation a second time.
But Chan hates him.
"Lee Jungho will be there."
"I'm coming." Seungmin will live through this bullshit once again if it means he has a chance of meeting a member of his favourite baseball team.
"Brilliant!" Felix links his arm through Chan's. "Channie's going to walk me home now. You should walk Innie back."
"That makes no sense, we live together-"
"Bye!" Felix cheers, hastily pulling Chan away from them.
And then there were two.
"Urm, well. Bye." Seungmin looks at Jeongin, surprised to see him glaring. "What?"
"Lee Jungho's not going to be there! You played right into their hands!"
… Seungmin liked it better when Jeongin was a nervous wreck who could barely speak.
Narrowing his eyes, Seungmin retorts, "You're the one who shares his calendar with his friends. What type of psychopath offers up all their free time so willingly to be destroyed by others?"
"Normal people who enjoy making plans and hanging out with friends! I realise that you're a bit disjointed from society, Seungminnie, but the rest of us aren't so far up our own arses that we lock people out of our dorm rooms and quote 'me time.'"
It's a bit harsh. A complete 360 from Jeongin's nervous bumbling. It's also an old argument that Seungmin has no fucking desire to revisit.
"Goodnight, Jeongin."
"No, you don't get to-" hic! "-walk away mid conversation."
Seungmin stops, but not because of the words.
Hiccups. Oh. Jeongin's drunk.
When did that happen? he didn't order any more drinks than the rest of them. He was disappearing off to the toilet quite a lot, but Seungmin figured he'd broken the seal, and-
Ah. Jeongin wasn't going to the toilet. He was going to the bar.
Looking at him now, it's obvious. He's swaying slightly on his feet, and he's blinking more than usual, and the hiccups were always the number one sign on a night out that Seungmin would be piggy-backing his boyfriend home.
"Innie-"
"No. No. You-" hic! "-suck, Seungmin."
Seungmin nods, and steps forward to link arms with him
"I know. Let's go."
"I can-" hic! "-walk perfectly well by myself," Jeongin defends, yanking his arm out of Seungmin's only to overbalance and fall into the wall.
Jeongin's whole face flushes red. Horrifically, his eyes water.
And Seungmin hates many things about Jeongin, but seeing him cry remains to be what he hates the most.
Gently, Seungmin takes Jeongin's arm again and pulls him back to his side. There is no buzzing sensation where they touch. At all.
"Let's get you home."
"I hate the hiccups," Jeongin says.
"I know, Innie," Seungmin replies.
They don't talk as they walk home, and they don't say anything as Seungmin helps Jeongin get to bed, and tomorrow, they won't talk about the Berocca Jeongin finds on his bedside table, either.