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Chapter Text

Monday, March 11, 2019

DONGSIK

Dongsik opens his eyes, surprised by how bright it is in the bedroom. A jolt of panic shoots through him, has he overslept? He spins around in bed, frantically fumbling for his phone on the nightstand.

The moment his fingers touch it, the phone lets out a piercing howl, the alarm, screeching into his barely awake ears. In pure shock, he drops it to the floor. The sound is deafening in the early stillness, and the suddenness of it shakes him completely.

He reaches out, still wrapped in the warmth of his bed, trying to grab it blindly. But the phone has tumbled out of reach, deep under the bed, where it continues its relentless wailing.

With a frustrated sigh, he throws off the covers, gets down on the cold floor, and finally snatches it up, silencing the alarm with a firm tap.

6:30.

He doesn't need to be at work until 8:00.

Normally, he would crawl back into bed and drift in and out of sleep. But not today. He's wide awake.

Because it hits him.

His stomach tightens, the air feels heavier, and a knot of dread coils in his chest. He remembers what day it is, and why he was so uneasy last night. No wonder he barely slept.

Today is the day.

He stares at the suit hanging on the wardrobe in front of him. It's his best suit, not that he has much to choose from. He owns plenty of clothes, sure, but none of them are right for a day like this. Today, he's going to speak with Seo Inwoo, the new head of Human Resources.

Well, new isn't quite accurate. He knows Seo Inwoo has been with the company for a long time, just not in this particular role. The previous HR manager had been infamous for his cold, cutting tone. And worse, for being close friends with Dongsik's team leader: Kong Chan-Seok.

It is no secret that Dongsik's department is under... pressure. And Kong Chan-Seok? He thrives on it. He can't leave Dongsik alone. It's like he lives to torment him, to set him up against his colleagues just to watch him flounder.

When the old HR manager left, Dongsik felt nothing but relief. He never found out exactly why the man had been dismissed.

Rumor had it he didn't get the raise he wanted. Dongsik never looked into it. He doesn't care. One less person making his life hell is good enough for him.

It hasn't always been like this. In the beginning, for at least a couple of weeks, things were fine. But as time went on, everything got worse. Slowly. Relentlessly. And Dongsik isn't the kind of person to speak up, to fight back.

There was a point where it got so bad that Dongsik began thinking about ending it all.

Yes, he thought about quitting first, but the darker thoughts came too. Real thoughts. He had even written a suicide note. He still hasn't thrown it away. Part of him is afraid someone might find it. Part of him doesn't want to let it go.

But for some reason, Dongsik feels like things are about to change, really change, now that there'd been a shift in management.

Seo Inwoo is also co-director of the company, alongside his brother, Seo Ji-Hun. Dongsik has barely exchanged more than a polite greeting with either of them, but the impression he's gotten is clear: Inwoo is the better of the two.

Sure, both brothers carry themselves with that same air of confidence, maybe even arrogance, but Inwoo has something his brother lacks: approachability.

When they pass each other in the hallway, they give each other a small nod, nothing more. But there's something in Inwoo's eyes, something observant. Sharp. Like he's paying attention.

Dongsik has already practiced the conversation in his head hundreds of times. He's going to lay it all out, tell Seo Inwoo exactly what Kong Chan-Seok has been doing to him. Every snide comment, every humiliation, every time he's been sabotaged or set up to fail.

And Seo Inwoo is going to fire him. He has to.

He grabs the suit from the wardrobe and stands in front of the mirror. Stares at his own reflection for a moment. Tries to smile, hesitant, hopeful.

If he believes in himself, things will work out. Right? He just has to hold on to that thought. Have confidence. Faith. Or... at least fake it well enough to get through this meeting.

Seo Inwoo will listen.

He'll see what Dongsik has been through and be impressed by how much he has endured without completely breaking.

Dongsik's heard that Inwoo is tough. That he's fair. That he doesn't hesitate to step on toes when needed.

Ji-Hun, on the other hand, is... volatile. Or so people say.


Even though Dongsik had woken up early, he still finds himself running late. As always. He showers, brushes his teeth, and is just about to get dressed when he notices it, one of the front buttons on his suit is missing.

His heart nearly stops.

Any other day, he would just pick another suit and move on. But not today. This is the suit. The best one! The one he picked specifically for this meeting. He can't walk in there with a missing button! That would be careless. Sloppy. And it matters, every detail matters today.

He goes into a full-blown panic, tearing through drawers, searching desperately for a needle, thread, a matching button, anything. He's sure he kept the original button somewhere... but now that he needs it, it's nowhere to be found.

In the end, he has no choice but to improvise. He carefully removes one of the buttons from the bottom of the sleeve and uses it to replace the missing front button. For the sleeve, he sews on a slightly mismatched one, close enough that no one will notice. Hopefully.

But the whole thing takes far longer than expected. His hands are trembling, his heartbeat thundering in his ears, and somewhere between the needle and the fabric, he pricks his finger, deep enough to bleed.

"Shit," he mutters, rushing to the bathroom, holding his finger under cold running water. Blood swirls down the sink in pink ribbons while he rifles frantically through the cabinet. No band-aids. Of course. His chest tightens.

He opens his toiletry bag in desperation, hoping for a miracle, and there it is. A single, crumpled band-aid. With Hello Kitty.

He stares at it in disbelief, almost laughing, almost crying. It has to be from that trip he took with his best friend Bo-kyung, last year. Why else would a 34-year-old man have a Hello Kitty band-aid in his possession?

He glares at it and hesitates.

A bleeding finger, in this moment, is infinitely better than walking into a meeting with Seo Inwoo, potential savior of his professional life, sporting a cartoon cat on his hand like a wounded child. No. Not today. Today he needs to be taken seriously.

Today he is not a joke. Today, Hello Kitty can wait.


INWOO

Inwoo stands by the window of his office, watching the people down on the street like he's observing vermin through glass. From the 25th floor, they're barely more than moving specs. Tiny, twitchy, and insignificant. Filthy little ants. Squirming, desperate, disgusting.

Earlier that morning, on his drive to work, he'd seen a pair of homeless people practically bursting with joy over a few coins someone had tossed into their cups. Laughing. Clapping. Like circus animals being rewarded for a trick.

Thinking about it now, Inwoo wrinkles his nose in pure revulsion. "Pathetic," he sighs. "Absolutely revolting."

He isn't sure how much longer he can keep this up without actually killing someone. Truth is, he's been fantasizing about it since he was, oh... about nine? Twenty-seven years of quiet obsession does strange things to a man.

There had even been a chance once. A perfect one.

He'd planned everything. Down to the smallest detail. Routes, alibis, disposal. He even had a playlist for it.

But when the moment came, the one he'd been waiting for, he hesitated.

Just long enough for the victim to slip through his fingers.

He tells himself it won't happen again.

There had been other moments. Other temptations. Times when someone said exactly the wrong thing at exactly the wrong time and he'd come this close to snapping their neck. But no. He hasn't crossed that line yet. Not because of guilt, please. Because of risk.

Because getting caught would be an absolute nightmare.

Prison? Ugly jumpsuits. No privacy. Idiots everywhere. No skincare routine. Not an option.

As much as he hates pretending, playing the role of the polite, hard-working, dead-inside executive, he values his freedom more. Freedom to go home, listen to classical music, and fantasize about blood and murder.

If he's going to kill someone, and let's be honest, one day he will, it's going to be flawless.

A masterpiece.

Clean. Undetectable. He isn't some amateur rage-killer. He has standards.

And when it finally happens, no one will see it coming. Not from him. Not the charming, well-dressed, occasionally-smirking Seo Inwoo. That's the whole point.

He's built a whole life around being the perfect man. Now, the perfect man needs to find the perfect victim again, someone no one will really miss. Someone forgettable. Quiet.

Disposable.

He's deep in thought, cycling through faces and names like a rolodex of potential corpses, each one already half-buried, when a soft knock drags him back to reality.

He glances at the clock on the wall. Right. The last person from Kong's little collection of failures. What a waste of his time.

He adjust his posture, smooths out his expression, slips the friendly mask into place.

Let's see how this one holds up under pressure.

"Come in," he says, voice clipped.

His secretary, Jo Yu-Jin, pokes her head in. She steps inside, smoothing down her red pencil skirt, the same shade as her lipstick today. Coordinated and polished. As always.

If Inwoo had normal emotional attachments, he might've liked Yu-Jin. Might've even considered her a friend, in some abstract, clinical sense. She is, after all, the closest thing he has to one.

They don't spend time together outside the office, but she understands him in a way no one else does. She never questiones his decisions. Never blinks at his cruelty. She has a sharp tongue when she needs to and always, always takes his side, especially when he is at odds with his tragic excuse for a brother.

Yu-Jin bows slightly, and he gives her a courteous, shallow bow in return.

"Sir," she says, crisp and respectful. "Yook Dongsik, the last one from Kong Chan-Seok's department, is here. Should I send him in? And would you like some coffee?"

He nods once. Efficient. No need for words.

She disappears, closing the door behind her. He remains perfectly still, eyes fixed on the door.

And then, it opens again.

Yook Dongsik.

The name means nothing at first.

But the moment the man steps into the room, Inwoo remembers him. Not by name, not by department, just... presence. That strange, flickering presence. The jittery energy. That haunted, hunted look. He's the kind of man who never quite fits into a room, always on the edge of disappearing.

They've never spoken. Barely nodded at each other in passing. But yes, Inwoo remembers that uncertain creature who shuffles around the office like a mouse too scared to breathe. Maybe he's seen him in the cafeteria? Or at those pointless all-staff meetings?

He remembers the unruly, stubborn hair and the way his eyes dart around, like he's waiting for something to fall on him. Like a man who's used to getting crushed.

Inwoo watches him silently, tilting his head slightly. Curious, now.

He reluctantly extends his hand to Dongsik, who bows so eagerly in return that he almost headbutts the outstretched hand on his way down. Dongsik blushes, realizing he nearly hit the employer's hand with his stupid face, and awkwardly wraps his hand around Inwoo's as he exclaims, "Yook Dongsik, erm, sir!"

Dongsik's handshake is clammy, unforgivably clammy, and Inwoo resists the urge to wipe his hand on his suit the moment the man lets go.

Without a word, Inwoo simply glances at the chair in front of his desk and gestures for him to sit.

Dongsik stumbles slightly over his own feet as he moves forward, face already flushed.

Damn. He looks like the human embodiment of anxiety. Pink cheeks, twitchy eyes, and those ridiculous curls falling into his face.

Inwoo looks at the clock mounted on the wall above Dongsik's head. 

9:07 am.

He settles into his own chair, slow and precise.
"You're seven minutes late," he points out, locking eyes with Dongsik.

That's all it takes.

Dongsik somehow manages to blush even harder, the crimson creeping all the way to the tips of his ears. He opens his mouth like he's about to explain, but nothing comes out except a weak breath.

Inwoo watches him. Fascinated.

This is... entertaining.

Painful, yes. But in a delicious sort of way.

He hadn't expected these department check-ins to be worth his time, but now he's thinking he might've been too quick to judge.

Watching someone this unsure of their own existence is bizarrely satisfying. Maybe because he's never once felt like this in his entire life?

Still, Inwoo figures he should dial it down. Just a notch. No sense in breaking the poor guy before the conversation even starts.

He raises an eyebrow and softens his tone.
"I'm just kidding. I've got plenty of time, Yoon Dongsik."

Dongsik blinks. There's a flicker of relief. A silly little laugh escapes him. Small and awkward. Embarrassing.

Inwoo leans back, steepling his fingers.

"So," he begins casually, "what's on your mind today? I've already spoken with your colleagues, and it sounds like there's a bit of... conflict in your department?"

Conflict. He says it lightly, as if he's talking about an overcooked lunch order.

Of course, he already knows it's much worse than that. Kong Chan-Seok's reputation precedes him. The man's a tyrant. Everyone knows it. Ruthless, petty, power-hungry, and worst of all, protected. Or, at least, he was.

Inwoo lets the silence hang for a moment. He wants to see what Dongsik does next.

Dongsik takes a deep breath and nods, a little too eagerly. He opens his mouth, ready to speak, but is immediately cut off by a knock at the door.

Yu-Jin enters with two coffee cups in hand, moving with quiet grace. She sets them down in front of each man and offers them a gentle smile. She slips back out, closing the door softly behind her.

Silence.

Inwoo watches Dongsik stare at the coffee cup like it's a bomb about to go off. He's examining it, clearly unsure whether it's safe to drink or whether he's being tested somehow. Seriously?

Inwoo can't help the smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"It's not poisoned," he says dryly, glancing from the cup to Dongsik's flushed face.

Predictably, Dongsik blushes even harder. That ridiculous laugh escapes him again. Nervous, wheezy, like a balloon deflating slowly.

He finally lifts the cup and takes a sip, only to seemingly regret it. The coffee is far too hot, and Dongsik struggles to swallow, wincing through the pain with what might be an attempt at a smile.

Inwoo bites the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing.

"Uhm, yeah. Seo. Sir. Ehm-" Dongsik clears his throat. "A-as you've probably heard from my colleagues, we have a pretty big problem with our team leader. Kong." He pauses. Waits. Clearly hoping Inwoo will jump in, offer some lifeline.

Inwoo doesn't. He just waits.

Dongsik shifts in his seat, reaching up to nervously touch his hair. Those soft curls flop uselessly over his forehead as he stares back down at the coffee like he regrets everything.

"K-kong is..." Another pause. "...Th-there's a lot of discrimination. Some people get special treatment, others get blamed for everything. Especially... me."

"These are very serious accusations. Do you have any examples of this, Yoon Dongsik?" Inwoo makes sure to put deliberate emphasis on Yoon, the wrong family name.

And just like he expected, Dongsik doesn't correct him. Not even a twitch of protest. He just takes it, like everyone else too scared to call Inwoo out.

Delicious.

He leans back ever so slightly, watching with interest as Dongsik squirms.

Let's hear what kind of broken little story you're about to spill.

"Y-yes, of course, sir. Uhm... I always take exactly a 40-minute lunch break, and if I go over, say, 41 minutes, I get told off. And if I forget to take a lunch break altogether, he hates that too! If I'm really focused on work and skip my break, that's even worse. Meanwhile, the others... They just come and go whenever they please! I-I'm always on time! Well, almost always. Like 99.8 percent of the time!"

Inwoo almost admires how utterly pathetic the man in front of him is. The suit he's wearing looks borrowed, at least a size too big, hanging off him like a bad joke.

Dongsik goes on, voice trembling, "I-I don't want to throw Kong under the bus, but... he bullies me. Says I can't do anything right, even though my performance isn't worse than anyone else's. I think he's got something personal against me. I haven't done anything to him! I just come in and do my job, but apparently it's not good enough. It's not just psychological terror, sir... It's... it's p-physical."

To Inwoo's horror and discomfort, tears well up in the pitiful man's eyes.

No. No no no.

He doesn't know what to do. He's not used to this. People showing weakness, especially crying, breaking down in front of him? That's unbearable. He has to stop this now.

His eyes dart around the room, no tissues. Of course not. Why would his office be stocked for this kind of mess? Inwoo shudders involuntarily at the sight of the trembling loser before him.

Then the idea clicks into place like a sharp knife sliding from a sheath.

Dongsik, in all his awkward, broken ineptitude, is the perfect victim.

His whole appearance screams it: the bullied, overlooked outcast.

He's despised by his own team leader, likely ignored, or worse, resented, by his colleagues. Not one of them had come to his defense. Some barely even acknowledge he's the one suffering the most.

He's fragile. Broken. On the verge of collapse.

Sitting here, pouring his pathetic soul out to a stranger and crying like a fucking child. He has major mental issues. He can't stand up for himself, most likely has no friends, and he's utterly invisible to the world.

He is perfect.

Perfect for Inwoo.

Inwoo rises with deliberate grace. He steps forward until he's directly in front of the crying man, who is still shaking in his chair. Dongsik lifts his tear-soaked face. His eyes are red, glassy with emotion, wide with shame and fear.

Inwoo stills.

That face. That beautiful, pathetic face.

Inwoo's pulse quickens, just a little.

You poor little thing, he thinks.
I'm going to kill you, and you'll never even see it coming. I will end you, and you'll vanish into nothingness. No one will mourn you. No one will remember you. You are so small. So unimportant. So perfectly pathetic.

Instead of giving in to every nerve in his body begging him to wrap his fingers around Dongsik's frail little neck and watch the beautiful panic rise in those innocent eyes, he lowers his arm and gently wipes away the tears with the edge of his suit sleeve. The fabric drags softly across Dongsik's cheek, and Inwoo almost shivers at the intimate contact. It makes his skin crawl and his blood sing.

The desire to end him, slowly, intimately, is so loud it drowns out reason. But still, he holds back.

Dongsik looks up, startled, frightened. His blush blooms again like a rash across his cheeks, and his mouth opens with a stammer. "Uh-excuse me! Oh my god, no, what am I doing?"

Inwoo's face remains unreadable as he sweeps his sleeve across the other cheek, slow and precise. With his free hand, he smoothly reaches for his phone and types out a message:
'Can you please bring some tissues'

No question mark at the end or further explanation.

It takes less than thirty seconds before Yu-Jin enters the room again, tissues in hand, giving them to Inwoo. She pauses, her sharp eyes flitting from Dongsik's crumpled form to Inwoo's carefully neutral expression. She leaves without saying anything.

The only sound in the room is the soft, pitiful sniffling of Dongsik, trying to collect himself. He blinks fast, clearly unsure if he's allowed to move, to speak, to exist in this space any longer.

Inwoo reaches forward and takes Dongsik's shaking hand. The contact is too intimate for Inwoo's liking. But he has to put on a show.

Inwoo presses the tissues gently into his palm. His fingers linger just a moment too long.

"You'll need these," he says softly, voice like silk.

Inside, he is practically vibrating.

This is it. This is the beginning.


DONGSIK

Dongsik is horrified by his own pathetic reactions. Sitting here, in front of a boss, in front of Seo Inwoo himself, crying because he's being bullied by his team leader. He wants the floor beneath him to open up and swallow him whole.

But he had just been so overwhelmed by his own emotions. It is the first time he has said it to anyone at work. He hasn't even told his family.

He feels so ashamed, and he just knows Inwoo must be judging him. Doesn't everyone judge someone in a situation like this?

Dongsik clutches the tissue paper tightly, pressing it to his eyes. There aren't many tears left to wipe away, after all, Inwoo had already sacrificed the sleeve of his own suit to dry them.

Dongsik glances at the undoubtedly expensive suit, now stained with damp spots, and feels, if possible, even more ashamed. His face burns red, and he can't bring himself to say a single word.

"Dongsik. This is very serious. This is completely unacceptable behavior from a team leader you should be able to trust and feel safe with. You must have had an incredibly difficult time," Inwoo says, his tone gentle.

Dongsik is a little surprised by the softness in his voice. Maybe Inwoo doesn't judge him after all? Maybe he actually feels for him, and wants to help?

Wants to... save him?

"I want you to do me a favor," the soft voice continues as Inwoo leans back in his chair. "I want you to keep a log of every instance of bullying, and tell me immediately if he ever lays a hand on you. Can you tell me what kind of physical things he's done to you? Has he ever... hit you?"

Dongsik swallows hard, unsure how much he really wants to say.

On one hand, it feels strangely relieving to finally speak the words aloud. These are things he's carried in silence for so long, things he's buried so deep inside.

But on the other hand, the shame is crushing. To admit out loud that he's been harassed, humiliated, bullied, for so long without doing anything, without standing up for himself... it's unbearable. What kind of man just lets that happen?

For a long time, he convinced himself that if he simply ignored it, pretended it didn't get to him, it would stop. That Kong Chan-Seok would lose interest and move on.

But it hadn't stopped.

If anything, it had only gotten worse. And he had let it happen.

"Uhm, I..." he starts, voice thin, and glances down. His hand is clenched tightly around the tissues, balled into a fist. He forces himself to relax his grip, the crumpled paper unfolding slightly between his fingers. "Y-yeah, I... I can definitely keep a log. And I can write down the things that have already happened too."

His voice wavers, but he keeps going.
"As for the physical stuff... Kong Chan-Seok has this thing. For slapping me. It's not always that hard, but... it's humiliating."

He pauses, his breathing shallow.
"He'll pinch my ears sometimes. Or kick me as I walk past him. Not always hard enough to bruise, but hard enough that I feel it. At first it only happened once in a while, but lately... it's almost every day. It's escalated. Gradually. Like he's testing how far he can go."

When he gathers the courage to look up, Inwoo is watching him intently, eyes wide, mouth slightly open. Almost like he's... intrigued? It makes no sense. Dongsik just said something awful. He's not good with reading people, never has been. For a horrible moment he wonders, is that excitement in Inwoo's eyes?

But no. That's ridiculous. Of course not. He shakes it off quickly.

Inwoo must just be shocked. That's all. Maybe even horrified.

"Does anyone else know about this... situation?" Inwoo asks calmly.

"Well... my colleagues have seen some of it. They've witnessed things, here and there. But I haven't told anyone. Not even my family. I just... I find it all a bit... s-shameful."

His voice breaks on that last word, and he bows his head, letting his hair fall like a curtain into his eyes. His heart is pounding, a cold sweat clinging to the back of his neck.

But beneath all the shame, buried beneath the fear, is something else. Something small. Something new.

Hope.

Maybe... something will change now.

"I see. You did the right thing, finally telling someone about this. That can't have been easy for you. For me, the most important thing is that my employees, my colleagues, feel safe at work, and don't have to live in fear of bullies."

Inwoo sounds genuinely eager to help. He must be an incredibly good person! So kind, so thoughtful, and he doesn't even know Dongsik. There's something almost freeing about the moment. Like he's finally breathing fresh air after years of holding it in.

Inwoo leans forward slightly in his chair, eyes locked on Dongsik.

"And there is absolutely nothing shameful about this situation, Dongsik. You're the victim here. You have nothing to be ashamed of. The only one who should be ashamed is Kong. And I promise you... he'll get exactly what he deserves."

Dongsik feels the tears rising again, but this time, he manages to hold them back. Not because he's sad, but because he's touched. Deeply, unexpectedly touched. He had hoped things would go well, but he hadn't expected it to be this easy.

There's something about Inwoo's presence, his voice, the calm confidence in his words... it makes Dongsik believe this will actually be okay.

Out of the corner of his eye, Dongsik notices Inwoo extending a hand toward him. He blinks.

Wait, does he want to hold hands?

Just as Dongsik is about to awkwardly reach out, Inwoo says flatly: "Your cell phone."

"M-my phone? Wh-what about my phone?"

"Can you give it to me, Dongsik?" No explanation offered.

Still flustered, Dongsik fumbles to pull it from his pocket and hands it over. Their fingers brush briefly, and Dongsik swears his whole body temperature spikes. Inwoo stares at him for a second longer than necessary before looking down at the phone in his palm.

"Ah. Sorry. I should've said this straight away. I want to save my number in your contacts. That way you can message me directly the moment Kong Chan-Seok does anything else to you."

Dongsik wishes for the hundredth time that day that the earth would just split in two and let him disappear. His cheeks are on fire. He takes the phone, unlocks it with shaking hands, and gives it back to Inwoo, mortified by how clammy his palms are.

Inwoo quickly enters his number, taps to call himself. It rings once, twice. He ends the call and returns the phone.

"I called myself so I'd have your number too," he explains calmly, and glances at the clock on the wall behind Dongsik.

Dongsik gets the hint. He rises from the chair as smoothly as he can, adjusting his suit-jacket, which now has obvious creases right down the front.

"Uhm. Th-thank you, sir. I-I mean, erm, I know you said you had time, or that you weren't in a rush, but still, I. Uh, thank you. Really. I'll, uh, I'll get back to work now."

He gives a jerky bow, clutching his phone like it's the only thing keeping him upright.

Chapter Text

DONGSIK

Dongsik collapses into his office chair. His whole body feels drained, boneless, like the tension is oozing out of his skin now that the meeting is finally over.

He had hoped it would go well, he'd even tried to manifest it, tried to fake the confidence, but the moment the tears started spilling, barely five minutes into the meeting, he'd felt that fragile illusion crack and crumble.

Still, despite everything, he's... happy? And more than that, he's relieved.

He hadn't expected Seo Inwoo to be so understanding. So kind. So gentle.

He'd always heard rumors that Inwoo was intense, maybe even a little cold. But that wasn't what he'd experienced. No, Inwoo had been warm. Sweet. Maybe even protective?

Dongsik blinks hard and shifts in his chair. There's a strange flutter in his chest, and at first he chalks it up to the leftover adrenaline from the meeting.

But it lingers. That feeling... Something about the way Inwoo had spoken to him. The softness in his voice. The way he'd looked at Dongsik, not with pity, but with intent. Like he truly saw him.

Was it just empathy? Just professional concern?

Or had there been... something more?

The thought makes Dongsik's stomach twist in knots. Surely he's imagining it. He has to be imagining it.

Just as he's about to spiral deeper into his own overthinking, a cheerful voice cuts through his daze.

"Do you want to have lunch together later?"

Dongsik jumps in his chair.

It's Oh Mi-Joo, the only person in the department who even bothers to greet him properly, who is standing next to his desk with a coffee in hand. She repeats the question with a warm smile.

Dongsik's instinct is suspicion. No one usually invites him to lunch. Not unless they're bored or feel sorry for him. But then again, Mi-Joo has always been different. She doesn't treat him like he's contagious. She smiles. She talks to him.

And she's probably curious about the meeting. She probably just wants the gossip. But even so, he finds himself nodding. "Y-yeah. Sure. That would be nice."

Is something finally changing?

He thinks back to that one night: the farewell party for an older colleague who was retiring. Mi-Joo had one drink too many and, in a quiet, drunken confession, admitted she had always wanted to defend him. That every time Kong tore into him, she burned with the urge to step in. But she never dared. Because Kong had something on her. She never said what it was, only that it was enough to keep her silent.

It wasn't much. But it was more than anyone else had ever offered him.

Every time Kong's voice rose, every time his hand lashed out or his boot nudged him, every single person around them seemed to vanish into thin air. Suddenly people had urgent emails to read. Suddenly everyone went mysteriously deaf or blind. No one ever saw a thing.

Mi-Joo, at least, had once admitted it.


As always, she leaves for lunch a few minutes early to skip the cafeteria line, shooting Dongsik a quick mime on her way out. He nods, pretending he isn't nervous, pretending he doesn’t feel the heat of Kong Chan-Seok's stare burning through the glass walls of his office.

Dongsik never leaves for lunch early. He can't afford it.

The clock strikes noon. He rises from his chair. He has exactly 40 minutes, 40 sacred, godforsaken minutes, to get to the cafeteria, stand in line, eat, and sprint back. If he's even one minute late, Kong will make sure he hears about it. Or worse... feels it.

He knows the routine by now. He knows the shape of Kong's fury. The flash in his eyes.

As he walks briskly down the corridor, trying to look casual, he knows Kong is watching.

Measuring. Waiting.

The thought strikes him. A slow, wicked realization.

He could provoke Kong today.

He could come back late. He could let Kong show his true colors. Let him explode, maybe even hit him. That would be proof. Evidence. Something real. Something Inwoo could use.

He stops. Right there. In the hallway, just a few steps from the elevator.

He stands still. Completely motionless. Frozen between fear and strategy. Between survival and sacrifice.

Because today... today, Dongsik is no longer just the victim.

He might be the bait.

A couple of girls from another department nearly crash into him, forcing Dongsik to step aside and press himself against the wall instead of blocking the elevator.

"Tell me right away if Kong does anything physical to you."

That's what Seo Inwoo had said. Or something close enough. If Kong lashed out today, everything could start moving faster. Inwoo had taken him seriously, really seriously. And now Dongsik walks with a small, secret smile tugging at his lips.

He takes the stairs instead of the elevator, dragging each footstep. He's buying time. Daring fate.

When he finally arrives at the cafeteria, he heads to the salad bar with the casual grace of someone doing everything in slow motion. He's absurdly slow, even he starts getting annoyed with himself. But still, he doesn't rush.

He pays for his food, and spots Mi-Joo from behind. Curled over her phone, slurping soup. Dongsik strolls over, drops a soft "hey" and sits across from her at the too-large table.

She looks up, eyebrows practically in her hairline as she taps her watch. "Dongsik! Was there a line to hell or something? I'm almost done with my soup!"

He smiles. A real smile. And that seems to catch her off guard. Her face shifts, like she's trying to place this new version of him.

Dongsik leans back in his chair, exhaling. Then he leans forward again, dropping his voice to a whisper.
"Okay. So here's the thing," he says, eyes flicking left and right. "I finally decided to talk about..."

He leans even closer.
"...the bullying."

He doesn't want to shout it across the cafeteria. He looks around, instinctively scanning the room. A part of him, an embarrassingly hopeful part, wonders if Seo Inwoo might be here.

But he doesn't spot him.

He's pretty sure he's never seen Inwoo in the cafeteria anyway. Not that Dongsik eats here often, he usually doesn't get the luxury of eating with the others.

Kong usually manages to assign the whole department to lunch at the same time, while conveniently making sure Dongsik goes alone. So he eats at his desk. Every day. Silent. Invisible.

Mi-Joo is leaning in, eyes locked on him, waiting to hear the rest.

Dongsik whispers, "As you know, I had that meeting with Seo Inwoo earlier today... and I told him about Kong. I told him everything that's been going on. Well, not everything, but the gist of it. And In-uh, I mean, Seo-he really took it seriously. He believed me."

"Oh! That's amazing," Mi-Joo says, her eyes widening. "You know I've always wanted to say something, but Kong is-"

Dongsik quickly cuts her off, shaking his head.
"No, no, don't even think about it. I don’t blame you. But anyway..."

He stabs a piece of lettuce from his salad, chews. "I have a plan," He mumbles proudly.

He goes on to explain how the conversation with Inwoo had gone, carefully skipping the part where he cried. No need to broadcast just how pathetic he'd been in the moment.

"And get this," he says, lowering his voice again for dramatic effect. "Seo Inwoo told me to let him know the next time Kong gets physical with me."

He glances pointedly at the watch on his wrist, leans back with a self-satisfied smirk. "And I've already started. I'm taking an extra long lunch today. On purpose!"

Why hasn't he thought of this sooner?
Why hadn't he spoken to Inwoo before now? Well, he knows why. Inwoo was new to the role, and Dongsik had just felt that he could trust him.

Whether that had anything to do with Inwoo being almost offensively attractive... Dongsik's not about to pretend that wasn't part of it. He's only human.

Mi-Joo, however, doesn't look nearly as thrilled as he feels.

"Hmm. So your plan is to... provoke a beating from Kong and then report it to Seo Inwoo? What if he just yells instead?" she looks worried.

"Believe me. This'll work. I know his pattern. I've lived it. I'm so used to this now, it's practically a schedule."


It's with a strange mixture of terror and anticipation that Dongsik almost welcomes the blow.

Just as he had expected, Kong lays a hand on him. The flat of his palm smacks against Dongsik's cheek, and a sharp heat flares where the skin has been struck. It stings, but more than that, it confirms that his plan is working.

As usual, no one says a word. In the beginning, there had been the occasional gasp, an awkward shift in a chair, a cough that didn't quite mask discomfort. But now?

Silence.

Only the rhythmic clatter of keyboards fills the air. Just another Monday, his coworkers must be thinking. Nothing unusual here.

"My office," Kong snaps.

Dongsik follows him without protest. He knows this routine by heart now. He sits down in the chair across from Kong's desk, waiting for the inevitable insult.

Kong doesn't bother to sit. He just stands there, towering, staring down at Dongsik like he's something sticky stuck to the bottom of his shoe.

"You're aware that you took fifty-one minutes for lunch today?" Kong adjusts his glasses. "Fifty-one. That's practically an hour. Tell me, what exactly is going on in that empty head of yours?"

With a flicker of new, foreign confidence, Dongsik lifts his gaze. His face is still. He shrugs, ever so slightly.

"I had a lovely lunch today, sir. I had no idea you were keeping track of time, it was an error on my part not to eat faster. But, as you know, the others tend to take far longer lunch breaks than I do. Funny how I seem to be the only one who ever suffers the consequences."

He doesn't say it loudly. But he says it clearly.

The kick comes hard and fast, right to his shin. Dongsik flinches, the pain pulsing up his leg, but he stays seated. Says nothing.

"You'll stay here until 5:30 pm today. If you clock out even one minute early, I'll see it on the system tomorrow. And then..."

Kong lets the threat dangle in the air like a noose. He doesn't need to finish. Dongsik already knows. The slap and the kick are just the beginning, Kong is capable of worse.

Dongsik nods once. He stands, bows, and leaves the office without a word.

But this time, he walks away with something else pulsing in his chest, something far stronger than fear.

Determination.

This time he has Seo Inwoo's phone number.

He sinks into his seat, cheek still burning from the slap, and feels the weight of a dozen stares pressing in on him from across the office. He exhales shakily and pulls his phone out of his pocket, hiding it under the desk.

His fingers tremble as he scrolls through his contacts until he sees it:
SEO INWOO

He types a text. Deletes it. Types again. Deletes.

Finally, he settles on:
'Hi sir, thank you for the conversation earlier today. It happened again, about 5 minutes ago. Kong got physical. Best regards, Yook Dongsik.'

He stares at the screen. Should he add more? A detail, maybe? A description of the slap? But no. It's enough. He presses send.

Just as he's about to slip the phone back into his pocket, it starts to vibrate violently in his palm.

'SEO INWOO IS CALLING'

A call? Now?! He hadn't expected a reply so soon, he was bracing for a short, professional message. Not this!

He freezes, panics, looks up, straight into Mi-Joo's wide, questioning eyes. "Uhm, I have to take this call, it won’t take long!"

Dongsik bolts from his chair and hurries toward the hallway, not even daring to look toward Kong's office.

He throws himself out the door and leans against the wall by the stairwell, gasping for breath.

His hand shakes slightly as he answers the call. "S-Sir, Dongsik speaking," his voice jumps an octave from nerves, and maybe from sprinting the whole twelve meters. God, he really needs to start exercising.

"Dongsik, I appreciate you informing me about this right away. Are you able to come to my office today at 3:30 pm?"

That voice. That tender, commanding voice. Dongsik feels his ears go red. Seriously, how can someone be both annoyingly attractive and a genuinely decent person? Should that even be allowed?

"Um, yes, of course, sir. 3:30 pm is perfect. I'll just let Kong kn-"

"You don't have to worry about that. I'll send you an invitation on Teams, and I'll personally inform Kong that you've been summoned to a meeting with me. You don't need to speak to him. Just keep your distance from him for the time being. Can you do that for me?"

Dongsik nods so fast he nearly gives himself whiplash, then realizes Inwoo can't see him. "Y-yes, sir. Perfect. Thank you very much! I’ll see you at 3:30 pm."

The line goes dead. Inwoo has already hung up.

Dongsik stands frozen in the hallway, letting the moment wash over him.

Kong's gonna get it.

Justice will finally be served.


INWOO

Hanging up, Inwoo doesn't move. He just stares at the name still glowing on his phone screen.

Yook Dongsik. What a fucking loser.

Of course, he'd managed to provoke Kong already, couldn't even make it through the day without getting slapped around like a bitch.

Dongsik won't have to worry about Kong much longer. Inwoo has much bigger plans for him.

He needs to work fast, though. He needs to get Dongsik to trust him. Really trust him. Let his guard down. That shouldn't be difficult. Dongsik practically oozes desperation.

He's so gullible, so starved for kindness. And jumpy as hell. It's obvious he's not used to attention. Not the nice kind, anyway.

Perfect. Pathetic.
Completely perfect.

He can't let this one slip through his fingers.

Not again.

His mind drifts, back to a few years ago. Back when things had almost fallen into place.

There'd been a girl.

In the park. He used to go jogging after work back then. She had been there every evening, always on the same bench. He hadn't even meant to notice her. Not at first. But after a week of seeing her in the exact same spot, slouched in that exact same way, it became impossible not to.

Alone. Utterly alone.

He had been sure of it. That kind of loneliness, it's impossible to fake.

He could see it. Smell it.
And she had smelled like opportunity.

She was tiny. No more than 155 centimeters. And she was perfect.

The way she walked, it was like she was trying to fold herself into the air. Like she didn't just want to avoid attention, but wanted to disappear entirely. Always with those oversized headphones on, completely locked in her own little world. Detached and disconnected.

And Inwoo had known, almost immediately, that she was the type of person who could vanish from the face of the earth without anyone noticing. She didn't belong to the world. She barely moved through it. And that made her interesting.

More than interesting. Irresistible.

There had been comfort in her routines. Every day, the same. She jogged. She never looked behind her. She never saw him.

He'd keep a respectful distance. Always a good fifteen meters behind. Just enough to watch her shoulders rise and fall as she ran. Always with those loose, almost mechanical movements, like someone half-asleep or halfway through dying.

And when she finished running, she'd sit on the same bench. The same side. Right side, exactly two inches from the edge.

She always brought an energy bar. Always the same kind. Ate it in slow, neat little bites like it was a ritual, not a meal. Then she'd fold the wrapper. Once, lengthwise. Twice. Three times. Over and over until it was a tiny, perfect square, and then she'd slip it into her backpack.

Never the trash. Never.

It was... fascinating to watch. The same movements every single day. Almost ristualistic.

He'd watched her like that for three months. Three full months. She never changed her route. Never changed her snack. Never missed a day. He'd known the exact timing of her jog.

And one day, he had followed her when she left the bench. He'd gotten curious. He'd stayed far behind, of course. She never looked back. She didn't even know he was there. Why would she?

She had no idea he was watching.

He had seen the girl walk into a shabby apartment block, the kind that whispered of forgotten lives and bad decisions. A rough neighborhood.

He'd stood at a distance, watching as she took the stairs. Through the large windows, he saw her climb to the second floor, first door on the left.

His heart had pounded with excitement. She had made it so easy for him. She had shown him exactly where she lived.

He had stepped up to the row of doorbells, scanning the names of the residents one by one. It was almost ridiculous how easy this could be. She didn't even know he existed.

He had read her name over and over again.

Kim Jo-Min.

He'd run his gloved finger slowly across the button of her doorbell, without pressing it. His heart had thundered in his chest, the blood had rushed to his crotch. He wanted to just walk into that building right then and there.

Into her apartment and end her. Put his hands around her throat, or maybe stab her with a knife.

But he knew he had to plan properly. He had to know more about her. He had gone home and searched for her name online.

She didn't make much of a fuss about herself in the digital world either, but she had an open Facebook profile with 23 friends. She had no likes on her profile picture. The smile on her picture wasn't genuine, it didn't reach her eyes. She looked so infinitely sad.

He saw the age on her profile. She was so young, only 19 years old. There was nothing about her job or relationship status, but he already knew that she was alone.

Completely alone in the world.

A couple of days later he looked for her like so many times before. But she never showed up for the jog. He had kept an eye on the bench, the bench that was practically hers. He stood there for ten minutes, which turned into twenty minutes.

But Jo-Min was nowhere to be seen. She had deviated from her pattern for the first time in over three months. Something must have happened. She couldn't have figured out that he had observed her. Maybe she was sick or something?

After standing there waiting for her for over an hour, he had to throw in the towel.

The next day the same thing happened, she hadn't shown up. Inwoo had been so frustrated that he had taken it out on his sister on the phone when she had called him later that evening.

She had called to let him know that she wouldn't be able to make it to the perpetual Sunday dinner they always had at their father's.

"It doesn't matter to me whether you'll be there or not. It's not like anyone notices you," he hadn't managed to say anything other than exactly what he was thinking. He had heard the deafening silence on the other end of the phone, he knew that she was a sensitive being who absorbed all hurtful words.

She had always been so fucking sensitive.

"It really doesn't matter to me if you drop dead. You're so damn insignificant to me, shibal seakkiya!"

Before his sister had hung up, he'd heard a soft sob. He knew that she would tell their father and Ji-Hun right away. So, he'd simply turned his phone off and gone to bed.

His mood hadn't improved when more than a week passed without seeing Jo-Min. She had vanished off the face of the earth, it was completely uncharacteristic of her to disappear like this.

During his lunch break at work that day, when he had eaten alone in his office, he'd opened the newspaper and looked at the obituaries. This was something he did occasionally just because he liked to see the tearful messages from the family of people who had passed away.

He had almost choked on his coffee when he had seen her name. Kim Jo-Min. He'd read her name over and over. Underneath was written a date from a week ago.

'Our dear daughter and sister.

Born 17.07.1998 - chose to leave us today - died 13.09.17

You were greatly loved, you will be deeply missed.

The funeral has taken place in silence.'

He had read the words over and over again.

Chose to leave us today.

She had chosen death.

Inwoo had been right all along. She had been a perfect victim, but she had taken matters into her own hands. If only he had been faster.

He hadn't been able to hold back his laughter at the claim that she was loved dearly and would be deeply missed. He had been certain that the only one to miss her would be him, because he had looked forward to killing her himself.

Blood had rushed to his nether regions as he imagined how she did it, how she had chosen to end her life.

What a poor pitiful girl.

But Inwoo isn't the kind of man who makes the same mistake twice. This time, things will be different.

Dongsik works under him, which means contact is unavoidable, but that's fine. That's how it has to be. He just needs to be quicker about killing him. Not to fast, though. It has to be perfect. Not reckless, but precise. Calculated.

First, he'll wrap that pathetic little parasite around his finger, so tightly Dongsik won't even realize he's being crushed.

Dongsik, you're mine, he thinks, and for the first time in ages, Inwoo feels genuinely alive and excited.

There's something almost comforting about having a plan again. This time, the victim fits just right.

Made to die by his hands.


He stifles a yawn, not because he's tired, but because he's being forced to listen to his brother, Seo Ji-Hun, drone on for what has to be the hundredth time.

Ji-Hun is younger than him, but thanks to some strategic sucking-up and their father's undying favoritism, the man somehow outranks him at work. And Ji-Hun has always been better with stocks, at least according to himself.

Ji-Hun hasn't worked half as hard as Inwoo, but somehow always ends up with more. More praise. More power. More of their father's affection. It's infuriating. And if monthly family dinners at their father's estate are already hellish enough, imagine the added agony of seeing Ji-Hun at the office every damn day. It's unbearable. A slow, polished kind of torture.

If it weren't for the inconvenient fact that he'd be the immediate prime suspect, Inwoo would have loved nothing more than to watch Ji-Hun drop dead right this second. Preferably mid-sentence.

He remembers when they were little and used to do play-fighting, Inwoo had once put a pillow over his unsuspecting brother and watched with anticipation as he struggled to get free. His little limbs had been flailing comically. He must've been ten, Ji-Hun five.

Their father had walked in.

He hadn't said a word, just grabbed Inwoo by the shirt and slammed him into the wall so hard it had stolen the air from his lungs. After confirming Ji-Hun was still breathing, he'd turned and backhanded Inwoo with such force that everything went black.

To this day, it's a story their family loves to revisit at dinner parties. "Remember that time you almost killed your brother?" they'll say, chuckling as if it were some charming anecdote.

He's the first to admit it, his family has a rather peculiar sense of humor. Inwoo, of course, plays along. Everyone in the family has their role to perform; his just happens to be the designated villain.

There's a crisp knock on the door, interrupting Ji-Hun mid-rant.

Yu-Yin is standing in the doorway. Behind her, half-hidden, is Dongsik, those silly curls giving him away immediately.

"We're actually busy. You'll have to come back later. Or, actually, preferably tomorrow," Ji-Hun barks, eager to assert his power.

Yu-Yin doesn't even spare him a glance. Her eyes are locked on Inwoo. "Sir. It's exactly 3:30 pm. Yook Dongsik is here for your meeting," she says smoothly before stepping aside.

Dongsik lingers awkwardly in the doorway, tugging at his suit sleeve. He looks guilty, or maybe just intimidated.

Either way, it's pitiful. And sad.

"Come in, Dongsik. Ji-Hun and I just wrapped up," Inwoo says pleasantly, not even bothering to look at his brother.

"What? We're not done yet!" Ji-Hun frowns, shooting out of his chair. "This meeting is supposed to last all day!"

Ji-Hun glances at Dongsik, clearly expecting the idiot to side with him, to retreat, or to apologize for existing.

Dongsik takes a few steps into the room, bowing awkwardly before extending his hand toward Ji-Hun.

"Sir! Uhm, sorry to interrupt you, sir. My name is Yook Dongsik. Me and In-uh, I mean, Seo Inwoo and I were supposed to have a meeting, but I can come later, or, uh, tomorrow if that's better, or any other day! Uh. Sir," he stammers, every word tripping over the next.

Inwoo rolls his eyes so hard it's a miracle they don't launch into orbit. Luckily, Dongsik is too busy gawking at Ji-Hun to catch it.

Poor clueless waste of oxygen.

Ji-Hun doesn't even spare Dongsik a glance or a handshake. Instead, he glares at Inwoo and hisses through clenched teeth, "You must have double-booked, Inwoo. Are you going to send this... person out, or should I?"

Inwoo shoots Dongsik an apologetic smile, the kind that says don't worry, I'm in control.

"Dongsik, please come in. Thank you for making time on such short notice."

He turns to Ji-Hun and waves him away like you'd swat at an annoying insect. "We'll continue this meeting tomorrow. It can wait. Something far more important came up. So, if you'll excuse us."

Ji-Hun's looks at him in disbelief, but says nothing. He just storms out the room with his laptop under one arm, leaving the door ajar.

Dongsik quietly shuts it behind him and just stands there, eyes locked on Inwoo.

The poor guy is so tragically pitiful, Inwoo wants to slap him. Or better yet, give Kong a raise for producing such a spectacularly hopeless victim. But for now, the act of empathy has to be maintained.

Dongsik needs to believe Inwoo cares. Otherwise, there'd be no strings to pull. No way to keep him wrapped tight.

"Oh, things seemed a little tense there?" Dongsik claps his hand over his mouth. "Oh! No, my god! I-I didn't mean it like that! It's just, I feel like I really disturbed your meeting, and maybe I'm in the way! Do you want to go after him and finish your meeting, or, uh, sir?" His words tumble out nervously.

It's comical watching him squirm like this, so awkward, so desperate to please.

"Sit down," Inwoo orders.

Dongsik practically bolts the few steps to the empty chair and collapses into it like a well-trained puppy.

Inwoo wonders, not for the first time, if he told him to jump out the window from this 25th floor, would Dongsik do it? He's making it way too easy. Too pitiful for his own good.

"Don't apologize, Dongsik. Things are tense between me and my brother. But he's not important. What matters is you and this situation. Tell me what happened," Inwoo says, voice softening just enough to sound sincere.

He watches as Dongsik falls for it. Of course he does. Everyone does.

"T-thank you so much for your support, sir. It's incredibly... kind of you to take this seriously. I really appreciate you. Eh. It! I meant to say it!" Dongsik stammers, cheeks flaming red as he buries his face behind his messy fringe again. What a depressingly stupid sight.

Inwoo thinks better of saying Dongsik is making this too easy. It's hard to feel any real satisfaction when the prey is this insignificant.

His fingers twitch around the pen he's holding, how... tempting it is to just lift it and poke Dongsik in the eye. And Dongsik would probably thank him for it. Maybe even offer to poke the other one out himself, just to be helpful.

But Inwoo holds the pen calmly. No eyes are getting poked out. At least, not today.

"I... um, to speed things up, I took an extra long lunch today. Fifty-one minutes, to be exact," Dongsik admits, "Because I thought Kong was going to snap at me. And, well, he did. He slapped me. And kicked me!"

He takes a nervous breath, glancing at Inwoo as if afraid to admit such a thing.

"You're incredibly brave, Dongsik, putting yourself in that situation," Inwoo says sweetly, the words dripping with sickly kindness.

As expected, Dongsik's cheeks flush an even deeper red and a shaky, uncertain smile flickers across his face.

"Come here," Inwoo commands.

"E-excuse me? C-come?" Dongsik's smile vanishes, replaced by that same jittery uncertainty.

Inwoo doesn't answer. He stands, strides around the desk, and towers over Dongsik. There's no time for awkwardness here.

Leaning down, he studies the blush creeping over Dongsik's cheeks. The little man recoils slightly, eyes wide, like a lamb caught in the gaze of a very hungry wolf.

Relax, Inwoo thinks. I'm going to toy with you a little longer before I rip you to shreds.

"Show me where he hit you. Was it your cheek?"

Dongsik timidly touches his left cheek. "Ehm, yes! This cheek! But it wasn’t very hard, so I don't think there's a bruise."

Inwoo leans in closer, inspecting carefully. "Hmm. Yeah, you're pretty red there. Actually... you're red on both cheeks."

His tone is gentle, concerned, the perfect performance. Inside, though, he's laughing.

Dongsik slaps a hand to his forehead. "Oh! Oh my god, yes! I-I always blush a lot when I'm nervous. Not that I’m nervous right now, but-"

"Does this make you really nervous, Dongsik?" Inwoo asks, voice steady, calm. He leans in even closer, just because he can, and watches with satisfaction as Dongsik visibly struggles under his gaze.

"No, no! Uh, no, you don't make me nervous!"

"That's not what I said."

"Uh, what? I mean, excuse me, sir?"

"I didn't ask if I make you nervous, Dongsik. I asked if this makes you nervous. And by 'this' I was referring to the bullying."

He wasn't sure it was possible, but Dongsik's face goes an even deeper shade of red, as if all the blood has drained from the rest of his body and pooled right there. Inwoo almost wants to cut him open just to check.

"Oh! Sorry! I misunderstood! I heard wrong! Oh my god, I don't know what's wrong with me today. I'm so incredibly sorry, Seo!"

It looks like Dongsik's about to cry, and for a second Inwoo almost considers kidnapping him, just to make sure the poor guy doesn't go home and end his own life.

"You don't have to apologize. You've been under an incredible amount of pressure for a long time. And now you've finally found the courage to talk to someone about it. No wonder you're sensitive. It's natural to find this difficult and uncomfortable. And the fact that you took a longer lunch today just to expose Kong's violent tendencies... that's incredibly brave of you."

Inwoo is sickened by his own flattering words, but he watches as Dongsik swallows them whole, trusting, naive, hopelessly gullible. So easy to manipulate.

Dongsik jumps up from his chair. Inwoo's caught off guard, uncomfortable even, as Dongsik wraps his arms around him in a trembling hug.

"Thank you sooooo much. You're so kind! I appreciate it so much. You didn't have to be so understanding. You must be a really good person!" Dongsik sobs incoherently, and Inwoo realizes with a sinking feeling that he is crying again.

He stands there, motionless. Doesn't hug Dongsik back. He's already sacrificed a sleeve of his suit to Dongsik's pathetic tears earlier today. There's no way he's giving any more than that.

Dongsik releases him and slumps back into his chair.
"Uhm, I don't know why I did that. I just wanted to say thank you. Let's just pretend that didn't happen, erm... heheh," he glances down at the floor.

Inwoo chooses silence. He settles into his chair, opens his laptop, silently hoping Dongsik feels ashamed, maybe even a little pain.

"It's... fine. You're just relieved. It's getting late, but I'm setting up a meeting with Kong tomorrow at 8:15 am. That's the only slot I'm available. This cannot wait."

He keeps his eyes glued to the screen as he sends the invite.

"Okay, do you want me at this meeting?" Dongsik wonders.

"No. You're going to have as little contact with Kong as possible. This meeting is between him and me. When do you start work, Dongsik?"

"Okay, sir, fine. Or... uh, thank you. I work 8 am to 4 pm every day. But today, I'm working until 5:30 pm, as a punishment for taking a longer lunch, like Kong wanted," he says, eyes on the floor again.

If Inwoo had any sympathy, he'd feel it now. But he doesn't.

"He can't demand that of you. You leave at 4 pm today, and tomorrow you come in at 10 am. Can you do that for me, Dongsik?"

Dongsik looks up, shocked. His gaze had been fixed on the floor, but now he's looking at Inwoo again.
"Sir!! What? 10 am?"

"Yes. I'll call Kong as soon as we're done and tell him you're leaving at 4 pm today. He can't say no to me."

Chapter Text

Tuesday, March 12, 2019

INWOO

Inwoo had stayed after work yesterday. He needed to see the security footage with his own eyes.

And sure enough, Dongsik had been telling the truth.

Not long after returning from his lunch break, Kong had slapped him across the face. Inwoo had to restrain himself from rewinding the clip over and over again, it was far too entertaining, watching Dongsik get smacked around like that.

A shame it had been such a pathetic little slap.

If Inwoo ever got the chance to lay his hands on Dongsik without any consequences, he'd beat him until his eyeballs popped clean out of his skull.

There were several other recordings too: Dongsik being yelled at, pushed around, humiliated, while the rest of the team just sat there like blind sheep, pretending not to see a thing.

Spineless idiots, all of them.

Inwoo had reported everything to Ji-Hun and their father yesterday. He'd laid out all the conversations he'd had with Kong's team, but of course, the most urgent and pressing matter was the one Dongsik had brought to his attention so... dramatically.

"If this gets out, it'll be a nightmare," he had said flatly. "It's going to stain the company's name in ways we won't recover from."

And naturally, that was what mattered most. Not whether some low-ranking nobody was getting bullied.

Reputation came first. Always.

His brother and father had been hesitant. But eventually, even they couldn't deny that Kong had gone too far this time. The complaints, the footage, the witnesses, it was all too much to cover up.

They had no choice but to cut him loose.

Inwoo knew Ji-Hun and Kong had some kind of personal connection, friends, or at least drinking buddies. Ji-Hun had let Kong off the hook more times than Inwoo could count. But this time, the evidence was overwhelming.

So when Inwoo offered to handle the matter personally, Ji-Hun had looked almost grateful. Too much of a coward to confront Kong himself.


The clock reads 8:00 am, and Inwoo has already been awake for four hours. He hadn't been able to sleep properly, he was far too excited. The thought of what was going to happen to Kong today had been like caffeine in his blood.

He'd gone for his usual morning jog before sunrise, then taken his time in the shower, thinking in detail about how Kong's pathetic little life would begin to unravel.

Ji-Hun had voiced some concern about who could possibly replace Kong on such short notice, but of course Inwoo had already solved that problem.

He steps into the office and looks around. The atmosphere is tight. The people here all wear the same expression, vague curiosity, maybe a bit of fear. Every seat is filled except one. That has to be Dongsik's.

He walks over to confirm it, and yes, taped to the side of the monitor is a small photograph. Dongsik and a woman. Probably his girlfriend. Or maybe his sister? Hard to tell. They're both grinning like idiots, throwing up peace signs. They look stupidly happy.

So far, the only expression Inwoo has ever seen on Dongsik's face is that of fear, confusion, or general misery. But here... he's smiling.

Inwoo has to admit, it suits him. He has a nice smile. A shame, really. Such a waste, considering he's going to die soon.

Looking at the smiling couple, Inwoo gets an uneasy feeling in his chest. Not jealousy, obviously. That would be ridiculous. It must be annoyance.

The idea that Dongsik, of all people, has someone in his life. Someone who clearly cares about him. Inwoo doesn't like that. It complicates things. Makes the kill messier.

He wants Dongsik to be utterly alone. Easy to erase. But if this woman is all he has... well, maybe it won't matter in the end.

His eyes move to the man sitting at the desk next to Dongsik's. He spoke to him yesterday, but his name is forgotten.

"Excuse me?" Inwoo says coolly.

The man looks up at him in surprise, nearly spilling his coffee as he scrambles to give Inwoo his full attention.

What is it with this department? Are they all that traumatized by Kong? By someone as measly as him?

God. What a miserable little nest of cowards.

"Oh, hi sir! Thanks again for the chat yesterday!" the man speaks a little too eagerly. "Kong Chan-Seok hasn't arrived yet, but I'm sure he's on his way. Or maybe you're here for Dongsik?"

He laughs at his own joke, thinking that scenario to be impossible, but stops when Inwoo doesn't crack a smile.

Inwoo doesn't so much as blink. He reminds himself to dial it down. Be warm. Approachable. Human, even.

He puts on a smile that he hopes looks genuine and says, "Thank you. Yes, I'm here to meet Chan-Seok, but the meeting's not for another fifteen minutes. I'm just early. What I really wanted to ask you...", He pauses, before he gestures casually toward the photo of Dongsik and the woman.

"Do you know who the person next to Dongsik is? His girlfriend, maybe?"

The nameless man glances at the photo and lets out another awkward chuckle. "Oh! That's his best friend! They're definitely not dating! Dongsik doesn't have a partner and as far as I know he's never had one..."

He purses his lips, realizing too late that he has shared too much about Dongsik's lack of love-life, but Inwoo just nods.

Best friends.

Not ideal. He'd prefer Dongsik to be alone, clinging to nothing. But not everything can be perfect. If this woman knows him so well, knows how meek and shaky he is, maybe she wouldn't be too surprised if he suddenly died. If he took his own life.

Inwoo had considered that route last night. Making it look like a suicide. A quiet, tidy exit.

The thought makes him smile wide before he remembers he's still in a conversation. "Indeed. Thank you..." He lets the sentence hang, laced with deliberate forgetfulness.

"Park Jae-Ho!" the man supplies, rushing to save the moment. "No wonder you don't remember, sir, you must talk to so many people every day!"

Inwoo offers a well-practiced fake smile in return.

Footsteps approach from behind. He turns, and there he is.

Kong Chan-Seok.

Game on, you pathetic son of a bitch.


"I've had some... interesting conversations with your team," He fixes his gaze on Kong, and watches him squirm to his delight.

They're sitting inside Kong's glass-walled office.

Inwoo's taken the same chair Dongsik sat in yesterday, the same Dongsik sat in when Kong kicked him in the shin. This chair has seen too much. Harassment, humiliation, quiet suffering.

"Most people are happy with your leadership style. They say you are tough, but fair and that you do a decent job."

Kong's face begins to relax. His hesitation melts into pride, his spine straightening. Inwoo can see the confidence returning.

Good. Let him feel safe.

Inwoo loves to build people up, then tear them down.

"Remind me, how many years have you worked here?" he asks, feigning polite curiosity.

Kong looks at him in confusion.
"Uh... next month makes six years, sir."

"Right, thought so." Inwoo nods. "Your colleagues speak very highly of you. Quite impressively, actually. I know for a fact that my brother has nothing but praise for you. And you and I both know..." he leans forward just slightly, "he carries a great deal of influence in this company."

Inwoo gives him a warm smile.

Kong beams.
He seems so smug, and is probably about to come in his pants from sheer pride. Inwoo can almost see the fantasy running through his head: promotion, recognition, power.

As if.

Inwoo lets the silence stretch for a moment, for effect.

"So imagine the disappointment on my brother's face when I informed him that one of our most respected team leaders is nothing more than a bully." 

The smugness on Kong's face disappears in an instant. Replaced with... guilt? Or shame?

It looks like Kong finally understands what this is, and that he is about to face the consequences of his actions.

Inwoo's tone doesn't change. It stays cool and measured. "One of your employees has been subjected to repeated bullying by you, verbal, physical... for a very long time. I've requested a list of incidents, but the employee is so severely affected by the extent of the abuse that he may not be able to provide a full report."

He takes a pointed pause before continuing. "My understanding is that you've put him through hell. For years."

Inwoo is enjoying himself far too much.

He has to remind himself, he's supposed to be a normal person. A professional. Someone who feels sympathy for the poor victim.

With great effort, he furrows his brows in a display of indignation, like a man deeply troubled by the cruelty of others.

If he could cry on command, he'd drop a tear or two right now, just for flair.

"I take your silence as an admission of guilt, Kong," he says, voice grave and steady. "There's nothing you can say to get out of this. You understand that, right?"

Kong doesn't answer. Inwoo doesn't expect him to.

"Not only are we compiling a log of these incidents, but we'll also be speaking to the people around the victim. And something tells me..." He says, eyes boring into Kong's. "Something tells me their stories are going to shift dramatically once they realize I already know the truth, and that I intend to eradicate the problem."

Kong is visibly crumbling now, slumped so low in his chair he might as well be trying to disappear into the floor.

Inwoo doesn't let up.

"Besides, we're going through the evidence from the surveillance-cameras in the building. There is a policy against accessing these records unless the circumstances are dire, and I would say that the circumstances are indeed dire. Something tells me we're going to see a whole lot of... punching and kicking directed at the poor man you've been tormenting for years."

"That damn Dongsik..." Kong's response comes as a quiet, bitter mutter.

Not what Inwoo expected. He'd imagined Kong would try to defend himself, or maybe lash out in desperation.

But this? This limp little whimper? It's disappointing. Cowardice in its rawest form.

"Dongsik," Inwoo repeats, emphasizing the name, letting it hang with theatrical gravity. He looks at Kong with an accusing expression. "Poor, poor Dongsik."

Kong doesn't meet his eyes, but Inwoo can see the tension in his jaw.

For a brief second, Inwoo thinks he might not just kill Dongsik, but Kong too. He's so weak. The moment he was cornered, he folded. He gave up without a fight. No excuses made or explanations given. That is pathetic. 

Inwoo stands from the chair, straightens the invisible wrinkle on his burgundy suit jacket, and regards Kong with a flat, almost bored stare.

"You have until 10:00 am today to clean out your office. If you have any questions or wish to file a complaint, you can take it up with Ji-Hun. You should start packing, you're pretty short on time."

Kong says nothing. His eyes are blank, locked somewhere far away. He's already mentally gone.

Inwoo should walk out now, let the silence finish the job. But he doesn't.

Slowly, he places both hands flat on the desk, and leans down until he's at eye level with the broken man.

"And Kong," he begins, and doesn't bother masking his demeanor; he makes his voice hard and serious.

It has the desired effect, Kong looks at him with fear in his eyes. It's pathetic how easy it is to freak people out.

"If you touch Dongsik again... if you so much as look at him the wrong way... or if you try to contact him, losing your job will become the least of your problems. If you try anything that affects Dongsik, believe me, I will find you. And I'll make damn sure you never bother anyone again. Ever."

He smiles briefly at Kong.

He makes a show of bowing politely, and leaves the room.


DONGSIK

He can't remember the last time he slept as well as he did last night.

He'd woken up before his alarm and just... stayed in bed. No heart-pounding panic, no dread sinking into his chest. Just a quiet, lazy morning. He made himself a proper breakfast, eggs, toast, a little fruit, and for the first time in maybe three years, he was actually looking forward to going to work.

He stands in the elevator now, practically humming with a strange excitement. Checks the time on his phone. 09:59 am.

Imagine that Seo Inwoo had simply decided to let him start his workday at 10:00 am. His knee-jerk reaction is to assume that this means he must work until 06:00 pm, when in fact Inwoo might have just meant that Dongsik could shift his working hours a little today.

Start later, but still be there for eight hours.

He'll have to send him a message later to check. He doesn't want to do anything wrong, and it's really dumb of him not to have double-checked this yesterday. 

If he does have to work late, he'll need to message Bo-Kyung. It's Tuesday, and Tuesdays are sacred. Every Tuesday at 4:30 pm, they meet at his father's restaurant, eat too much, and talk for hours. It's tradition.

The elevator doors open, and he steps into the open-plan office, only to freeze mid-step.

His coworkers are gathered in a loose circle in the middle of the room. They stop talking the moment they see him. Everyone is staring at him, intense unblinking eye contact.

He feels like a target. Like a criminal walking into a courtroom.

To his great surprise, they run towards him. Mi-Joo, Shin Seok-Hyun, Han Jeong-A and Park Jae-Ho all come charging forward like he's some celebrity and they're rabid fans. Their eyes are wide.

Do they look... excited?

"What-" he manages to say before they start talking all at once.

"Dongsik! It's incredible!"

They all talk under their breath.

Dongsik stares fearfully toward Kong's office, worried about how he will react when he sees that everyone is gone from their seats.

But Kong's office is empty. The desk and chairs are still there, but all the personal items, the dumb motivational posters, all of it is gone.

"Kong got fired!" Jae-Ho all but yells at him, eyes shining. "He had to pack up and leave! You just missed him! He had to pack his things and leave and you know what?"

"Uhm, no, what?" Dongsik asks curiously, still in shock.

This is happening way too fast.

"Seo Inwoo was standing right outside Kong's office, waiting for him to pack up all his things. Seo told the rest of us that you started at 10:00 am today. He said he was going to stay as long as there was a chance you'd arrive before Kong had left!" Jae-Ho sends him a look.

Dongsik has no idea how to react before Jae-Ho continues, "Seo's never done anything like that before. Not in all the years I've worked here. Especially not for someone at our level. So we were wondering if maybe... if there's something-"

He stops himself when Mi-Joo frantically waves her hand and presses her index finger to her mouth.

Dongsik is completely lost, he's still trying to digest the information he's just been given. 
"W-wait... is that true? Seo didn't leave the office... because he wanted to make sure Kong didn't... do anything to me before he left?"

The others all nod at once, far too eagerly. It reminds him of the seagulls in Finding Nemo when they've spotted food.

He can feel the tips of his ears heating up, his heart skipping a beat, maybe five. It's bizarre. And oddly heartwarming. It's been a long time since he felt this... noticed. This protected.

Inwoo really cares.

"Is there something going on between you two?" Jeong-A blurts, eyes gleaming with gossip-fueled excitement.

Dongsik flinches. Hard.

"We agreed not to ask him that!" Mi-Joo hisses, shooting her a look, but her eyes still flicker back to him with curious guilt.

"Wha- like what?" Dongsik says, idiotically, before continuing, "Nnn-no! Oh my god, no, absolutely not! What are you guys even thinking?! I don't know him! I'd never even spoken to Seo Inwoo before yesterday!"

"Damn. You must've made one hell of a first impression," Seok-Hyun states, and the others nod solemnly like a jury that's reached its verdict.

Eventually, the drama winds down and he's allowed to sit down and attempt to get some work done. But concentrating? Yeah, no. Not happening. There's way too much information to take in.

Kong is... gone. Fired.

And Inwoo had stayed behind to make sure Dongsik wouldn't be harassed one last time. He swallows hard, staring blankly at the open document in front of him.

Just imagining how Inwoo must've stood there, confident, maybe even a little scary, staring Kong down. Dongsik's heart skips again. This is insane.

How the hell is he supposed to repay Inwoo for this?

He has, in a way, saved his life! That is maybe a dramatic way of thinking about it, but who's he kidding, Dongsik is dramatic.

It occurs to him that he needs to remember to text Inwoo and ask about his working hours today. He grabs his phone and sees a message from Bo-kyung saying she can't wait to see him today and is looking forward to hearing about yesterday's meeting. 

Dongsik tamps down the urge to call her immediately and tell her everything, this is the kind of news he has to share face to face.

Instead, he replies that he has big news and is looking forward to meeting up.

He scrolls through his contacts until he finds Seo Inwoo's name. Just seeing it makes him nervous. He carefully types out the message, rereads it about fifty times, and finally presses send:

'Hi, I was just wondering if I am supposed to finish at 4pm today even though I came in later (10 am)? Or would you like me to work until, say, 6pm? And thank you so much for your help, my colleagues told me what happened with Kong. Best regards, Dongsik'

He stares at his phone like it might start ringing any second now. It does not.

A minute passes. Then two. Then five. Dongsik picks up his phone again and rereads the message.

Why did he include the time in parentheses? Of course Inwoo knows what time he came in. And why did he thank him like that? It would've been better to thank him in person.

He decides to actually do some work and tries to concentrate again.

It's been over two hours before Dongsik gets a response, and he reads the message over and over.

'You can leave at 4 pm today. I'll call you later.'

"I'll call you later!" Dongsik exclaims loudly.

Jae-Ho looks at him curiously.

"Um, sorry, I must be talking to myself! Just... da-uh-dad who's going to call me later!" he almost shouts at Jae-Ho, who fortunately doesn't ask any follow-up questions.

Heart pounding, Dongsik goes to type a thoughtful, calm response, only to hit the thumbs up reaction instead. He stares at his phone in horror, like he's just launched a nuclear missile by accident.

Crisis.

He might as well have written 'go fuck yourself' to him and it would have had the same effect. He blushes hard and puts his phone in his pocket, so he doesn't do any more damage.


The day goes by surprisingly fast, suddenly it's 4:00 pm.

Dongsik has been checking his phone at least every ten minutes, but he hasn't missed any calls from Inwoo.

I'll call you later. 

He hadn't written 'later today', of course. Calling someone later can mean anything, right?

And the call would probably only be about how the meeting with Kong went. A professional call.

Dongsik feels like taking the elevator up to the 25th floor and knocking on Inwoo's door, but he knows he can't.

What would he say?

'Hi, you were supposed to call me later, but I didn't hear anything, so here I am'?

He cringes so hard he almost pulls a muscle in his face.

For the first time in a long while, he says bye to his colleagues, in a proper way, while they actually meet his gaze. He almost tears up at the simplicity of it.

He steps out into the late afternoon sun and heads to his father's restaurant, his true safe haven. It's not just his dad's, his older sister and his stepmother work there too.


It's 4:35 pm when he arrives. Bo-Kyung is already camped out at their usual window seat, hunched over her phone.

She looks up as she hears the door, and Dongsik waves at her dramatically. She grins and leaps up.

"It's been 3000 years!" she cries out, throwing her arms around him.

In reality, it had been seven days.

They've known each other for five years now, but to Dongsik, it feels like a lifetime.

He slides into the seat across from her and immediately leans over to look at her phone, curious as ever. She sighs and hands it to him.

"Oh my god, I'm giving up Tinder," she groans.

Dongsik scrolls through the conversation. It starts off normal enough, boring small talk, and then suddenly veers into: 'Can I watch while you shower though?'

"...Because I said I needed to shower before work! I'm giving up on men," Bo-Kyung yelps.

"You say this every week," he deadpans, and hands the phone back. "Maybe it's time to actually commit. Go for women instead?"

"If I were even slightly attracted to women, I'd have made the switch ages ago," she huffs. "But alas, I was cursed at birth with heterosexuality."

He laughs, and she adds that she's already ordered food and beer for both of them. As if on cue, his father and stepmother emerge from the kitchen, arms full of plates and steaming bowls.

They chat briefly, his father teasing him about finally looking like he's slept, his stepmother asking if Bo-Kyung wants extra radish kimchi (she always does), before retreating back to the kitchen.

Dongsik hasn't even touched his beer yet, and already he feels his shoulders loosen. It's the first time in a long while he's sat here without an invisible weight crushing his spine.

"Oh, you have to tell me everything about that meeting yesterday!" Bo-Kyung says, mouth full of kimchi, eyes wide with anticipation.

He blushes.

Perfect. He's already blushing, and he hasn't even said anything yet.

He can't help the smile spreading across his face as he starts to talk. He tells her everything. About walking into that intimidating meeting room, about finally being heard, about Inwoo, and what it felt like to speak to someone who actually could do something.

He pauses when he gets to the crying-part. It comes out quieter, but he knows he's safe here.

Bo-Kyung just nods, and says, "Of course you did. Of course you were overwhelmed. You've been carrying that alone for years."

He even tells her about provoking Kong a little, how it all went exactly according to plan, and how, unbelievably, Kong is gone.

"He's not going to bother me again," he smiles, and the words taste strange on his tongue.

"It's so incredibly good to hear that idiot finally got what he deserved!" Bo-kyung says.

They drift into a mutual vent session about how much they've hated Kong, what a walking garbage fire of a man he is, and how they hope he lives a long, uneventful life filled with misery.

"And I'm just... so grateful that Seo reacted the way he did," Dongsik tries to keep his voice steady. "I should've gone to him as soon as I knew he was taking over. Even if that was just a couple of weeks ago."

He intentionally leaves out that he finds the guy attractive as hell.

He lowers his gaze, letting his bangs fall helpfully into his eyes. Bo-kyung's gaze is laser-focused. He can feel it.

"That's it then? Now you can finally leave all this behind. But wait, who is this Seo Inwoo again? I don't remember you ever talking much about him?"

Dongsik fumbles a little but keeps his tone casual. "I haven't, really. He just got assigned to this added role a couple of weeks ago. So, it's new."

"I see. Do you have a picture of him?" Bo-kyung doesn't blink.

Dongsik freezes mid-sip.
"W-why would I have a picture of him? Uhm... No."

"Fine. I'll find him myself," She whips out her phone.

Before he can say anything, she's already typing his name with the fierce determination of someone trying to crack a murder case.

Her mouth drops open.
"Uh, Dongsik? You completely forgot to mention that not only is he a saving angel, he's incredibly handsome!"

She holds the phone up to him, as if to prove to him that Inwoo is indeed handsome.

"Erm," Dongsik's cheeks flush bright red, and he averts his gaze, mentally cursing himself. "I didn't think it was worth mentioning. It's not really relevant, is it?"

Bo-kyung rolls her eyes.
"Hello?! Of course it's relevant, you like him! It's so obvious!"

"What? No!" Dongsik nearly chokes on air. "I mean, I like him as a... coworker. I mean, he helped me, and I appreciate him as a... citizen? Uhm. But I don't know him, hey, stop laughing!"

"Gotcha!" Bo-kyung is straight-up cackling now, "I wasn't sure if you liked him or not, but you just gave yourself away so fast. Oh my god, Dongsik. You're doomed. This is adorable! Or maybe terrible. Because he's your boss."

Dongsik grunts and sinks into his chair, wishing the floor would crack open and transport him to another dimension.

"There's not much info on him," Bo-kyung mutters as she scrolls. "I can't find him on Instagram or Facebook... but he has LinkedIn!"

She turns the screen toward Dongsik again. Inwoo's profile picture shows him with a broad smile, sleek black suit, and perfectly styled hair like he always has.

He leans in involuntarily.

Damn. That's a handsome man.

"Who's that?"

Dongsik jerks so violently he nearly flips the entire table. His stepmother, Na In-Hye, is standing right next to him, bringing out the extra radish kimchi, and eyeing the phone screen with interest.

Before he can say a word, Bo-kyung slaps on an evil smile and says sweetly, "Dongsik's new boyfriend."

"WHAT!" Dongsik shrieks. "Uhm, no! No, it's not! It's, uh, he's just someone from work!"

"Dongsik, have you finally found yourself a boyfriend?" In-Hye's face lights up.

To his horror, she waves eagerly across the room to his father. "Honey! Come here, you need to see this!"

Dongsik kicks Bo-kyung under the table. She yelps, but looks delighted.

His father walks over with a curious look on his face, and Dongsik starts panicking. "He's not my boyfriend! I don't even know him!"

"Except his full name, job title, position at your company, and that he looks like a model," Bo-kyung adds helpfully.

"Shut up!"

She passes the phone to his father, who squints at the photo with a hum of interest.

"When were you going to introduce us? I've been going around thinking you'd be single forever, and then you end up with such a handsome young man," he playfully nudges him on the shoulder and hands the phone back to Bo-kyung. 

"Oh, Dongsik! Sorry, I just had to, you're so cute when you blush," Bo-kyung teases.

"Do you mean to tell me that the day I finally get rid of my bully at work my own best friend starts bullying me instead?"

He wants to bite his tongue when he sees the expressions on his father and stepmother's faces. They have no idea about the bullying.


Wow.

This has been an... interesting day.

His father and stepmother had ended up sitting next to them and hearing about the bullying.

Dongsik couldn't hold back once he had started recounting all that had taken place. His father had hugged him and cursed Kong, while his stepmother had teared up and begged him to come to them if anything like this ever happened again.

Dongsik knows that they care about him, but he isn't good at bringing these things up.

He had kept this hidden from Bo-kyung for a long time too, until about a year ago when he had had a nervous breakdown in front of her one day Kong had been particularly cruel. 

Dongsik had told the story again about the meetings he had had with Seo, after a lot of blushing and questioning he had gotten through it.

He's back home now, in the apartment he’s lived in for almost ten years. He has his mother to thank for the fact, by the age of twenty-four, he'd managed to buy a place of his own.

Well, his dead mother.

When she passed away ten years ago, Dongsik had been inconsolable. Inheriting so much money had felt wrong, almost like he was doing something illegal. But deep down, he knew that if she were still alive, she would have told him he'd made the right choice.

A home is an investment for life, after all.

It's not that he's embarrassed of his apartment, it's decent, if a little worn around the edges. Sure, he wishes he had a bit more space, but seeing as he's forever single, as his father so lovingly pointed out earlier, it suits him just fine.

He gets out of his clothes, hops in for a quick shower, and then pulls on his pajamas. 

It's getting late, but he's too excited to sleep. The last two days have been an emotional rollercoaster, and everything still feels a bit too surreal.

Dongsik puts on a movie he's already seen five or six times, just to have something comforting on in the background. He flops down on the couch.

He checks his phone, no new calls or messages from Inwoo. Of course not.

Why would someone like Inwoo spend his evening contacting someone like Dongsik?

He opens LinkedIn and types in the name of his new obsession.

Inwoo beams back at him again from his profile picture.

Annoyingly handsome.

He scrolls down. Inwoo has 500+ contacts.

Meanwhile Dongsik is pretty sure he has... eight? So embarrassing.

He hesitantly hovers his thumb over the 'Connect' button on the profile. They do work together so it wouldn't be weird. After an intense internal debate, he taps it.

And immediately regrets it.

His phone vibrates. A red notification.

His pathetic soul briefly leaves his body.

'Seo Inwoo has connected with you.'

What? That was too fast.

He grins like an idiot, then panics and opens his own profile in a frenzy. What is Inwoo seeing right now?

Dongsik has a perfectly okay picture, it's not the best, but he also doesn't think he's photogenic himself, so he'll just have to be content.

He has nine connections total. Two of them are his dad and Bo-kyung. And now Seo Inwoo.

"Aiishh," he mutters, cursing his own unpopularity.

He taps back to Inwoo's profile and stares, again, at his picture. For longer than he likes to admit.

He switches over to Google. He suddenly feels a strong, slightly inappropriate need to know more. See more. Not that he hadn't been thinking about it the past couple of days, obsessively, but he'd somehow resisted the urge to Google him until now.

Bo-kyung was right, though. It's criminal how little there is. No Instagram, no Facebook. Only the LinkedIn profile. Was Inwoo one of those people who just... didn't need social media to function?

There are a few mentions of his name in various articles about their company, but nothing personal.

Dongsik stumbles upon Seo Ji-Hun's Facebook profile. Inwoo's brother. He clicks before he can think twice. Careful not to hit 'Add Friend.'

Ji-Hun's profile is very public, and it takes Dongsik approximately 0.3 seconds to decide he doesn't like him. Well, he already knew that.

The man is posing with a dead deer in one photo, and a dead fish in another. He's grinning in both, like a man who thinks taxidermy is a love language.

No wonder Inwoo doesn't like his brother, he thinks.

"What a psychopath," Dongsik says aloud and looks further.

He scrolls through the pictures, and stops at one that must be from Christmas Eve or some other type of family celebration. The whole Seo family is standing there, lined up in a row and it seems so posed.

His gaze finds Inwoo looking miserable, he's the only one not staring into the camera. He seems to be looking away, in his father's direction. He looks so... serious? Almost sad.

Behind them on the wall is the mounted head of a deer. Maybe their family is really into hunting?

The rest of the pictures are of Ji-Hun posing in front of expensive cars, with beautiful women and men.

He puts his phone down with a sigh.

No wonder the two Seo brothers don't get along. They seem to be complete opposites.

Not that Dongsik has any basis for thinking that, but he sincerely believes that Ji-Hun is a bad person and that Inwoo is... Well, as Bo-kyung had said; a saving angel.

Chapter Text

Friday, March 15, 2019

DONGSIK

It's already Friday. The week has somehow disappeared in a blur, and the most noticeable difference is the absence of Kong. No micromanaging, no passive-aggressive comments, no lurking presence breathing down his neck.

The hours at work have flown by, and for the first time in forever, he's not walking around with a pit of dread in his stomach.

He hasn't seen or heard from Inwoo since Tuesday, though. Not a call, not a text.

But earlier this morning, an email had landed in his inbox from none other than Seo Ji-Hun, summoning their team to a lunch meeting at 12:00 pm in a meeting room on the 24th floor.

Inwoo was CC'd on the email, which Dongsik had stared at for longer than necessary.

He's never been to the meeting room on the 24th floor before, but luckily, Jae-Ho knows the way.

Dongsik has tried very hard not to overthink this lunch meeting. But overthinking is what Dongsik does. It's practically his job description, right next to 'chronic self-doubt' and 'stares too long at Inwoo's jawline.'

He's thought about the fact that Inwoo said he'd call him later and never did.

He's thought about their LinkedIn connection like it was a binding contract. And, of course, he's wondered, is there something there, or is he just making things up? Probably.

His coworkers, naturally, are thinking about the actual important part of this meeting:

"Does the lunch meeting mean we get free food?" Jeong-A wonders.

"I really hope so," Seok-Hyun says, pushing his glasses up with purpose. "As long as it's not just salad again, like last time. I almost starved to death."

Dongsik barely hears them. He can't stop thinking about if Inwoo will be at the meeting or not.


INWOO

He sets his laptop down and plugs it into the wall display, anticipation lighting his eyes. He can't wait to deliver the news, and to watch Dongsik's adorably awkward face when he hears it.

He'd bet good money on a full-on blush.

Ji‑Hun and Yu‑Jin enter the room. Yu‑Jin is juggling boxes of sushi with napkins and chopsticks perched precariously on top. Ji‑Hun? Hands free. He can't even be bothered to hold the door for the secretary.

Inwoo steps forward and takes the sushi from Yu‑Jin with a flourish.

"Look at my gallant little brother," he announces a little too loudly. "Always the knight."

Yu‑Jin sends him a grateful smile.

Ji‑Hun says nothing, his eyes locked on the laptop propped against the wall.


At exactly 12:00 pm, there's a knock. The simpleminded people from the department pour into the room like sheep.

Dongsik is the last one to enter, and immediately meeting Inwoo's gaze as if he couldn't help it, before quickly looking down at the floor and blushing.

You beautiful little pathetic man, Inwoo thinks.

Yu‑Jin gestures to the chairs and places the sushi boxes at the center.

They all just stand there and look at one another, unsure of where to sit.

Dongsik picks a seat against the wall, trying to look indifferent while making himself as small as possible. He doesn't know that as soon as Inwoo sits, he'll be right next to him.

Everyone except Inwoo has taken a seat, and he sees the moment Dongsik realizes that they will be sitting next to each other. It's hard to keep a straight face when Dongsik looks so panicked and silly.

"I appreciate your attendance at this... extraordinary meeting," Inwoo begins, and takes purposeful strides to where Dongsik is sitting.

Dongsik doesn't look up. His hands tremble as he fumbles with the disposable chopsticks. Inwoo steps in and snaps them apart with effortless precision, handing them back with a bored flick of his wrist.

Dongsik is so red in the face that Inwoo almost wonders if they need to call an ambulance or something.

He sits down next to Dongsik without so much as a glance in his direction. "As you all know, Kong Chan-Seok was fired on Tuesday. I trust I don't need to elaborate on why."

Everyone is quiet, but some of them nod.

"This, of course, leaves the team leader's seat vacant. We have every confidence in your individual performance, but a leader is necessary. Unfortunately, there are no qualified internal candidates at the moment, as steps had to be taken... swiftly, you could say. Nevertheless, we've come up with a temporary solution."

He glances at Ji‑Hun, who's mid-chew and clearly nonverbal.

He continues, tone as smooth as silk, "We've reached out to other department heads, but as you might guess, their teams are maxed. So here's what we're doing: for now, instead of assigning a new team leader, you'll be supported, directly, by me."

Dongsik immediately starts choking beside him. Not just a discreet cough, it's a full-on, gasping, eye-watering, end-of-days choking.

Inwoo gives him a firm pat on the back, mostly to stop the noise, but Dongsik just keeps going.

"Is he choking on something?" Yu-Jin asks, looking concerned.

Inwoo gives another pat, this time a little too hard. Dongsik jolts but finally manages to suck in a breath. His eyes, wide and glassy, dart up to meet Inwoo's.

Ah yes. The innocent baby deer look. Classic.

Inwoo leaves his hand resting on Dongsik's back for a moment. He feels Dongsik's spine under his palm, imagine that? An actual spine. Who would have thought?

Not him, that's for sure.

He removes his hand eventually, grabs a water bottle from the table, and hands it over without a word. Dongsik takes it with both hands, like it's holy water, and drinks nervously.

Inwoo straightens in his chair.

"...As I was saying," he resumes, calm and measured, "I'll be helping your team temporarily. While I do have extensive managerial experience, I've never served as a direct team leader, so I'll rely on your feedback. If anything feels unclear or unnecessarily strict, don't hesitate to reach out."

He smiles faintly.
"We'll begin the formal hiring process for a permanent team leader next week, but for now, I'll act as your point of contact. As you know, I also have other responsibilities, so there may be times I won't respond immediately. I ask for your patience. That being said, my aim is to be as available to you as possible."

He casts a brief glance toward Ji-Hun, who is inhaling sushi like he's got a plane to catch.

"Anything you wish to add?" he asks, and everyone turns their gazes to Ji-Hun.

He sighs dramatically, because being asked to participate in a meeting is apparently just too much.

"Uhm. No, it sounds like you've got it covered," he replies sourly.

"Right. I've scheduled one-on-one meetings with each of you starting Monday, so we can get to know each other a little better."

He opens his laptop and finds a weekly planner.
"As you can see here," he points to the screen on the wall, "I've made a list of who I'm meeting with when. I'll send this to you personally on Teams, of course. If the time clashes with your work schedule let me know as soon as possible."

A hand goes up. Shin Seok-Hyun, glasses slightly askew, looks like he's trying to muster confidence. He looks almost as pathetic as Dongsik.

"Excuse me," he says timidly.

"Yes, sir?" Inwoo replies as a show of mutual respect. As if.

"I see I'm down for 10:00 on Monday, but I have a doctor's appointment and won't be in until around 10:30."

"Okay," Inwoo's tapping on the meeting and deleting it. "I'm pushing the meeting forward to 10:45."

Seok-Hyun nods.

Since no one else has any comments, Inwoo continues.

"I'll also take this opportunity to inform you that I will not be using Kong's old office. I'll remain in my own office on the 25th floor. You're free to use the space as a quiet room if needed. When you need a little break."

He closes his laptop with a calm snap.

"I will also be sending out the daily lunch schedule from now on. You'll receive it each morning. Any questions?"


Saturday, March 16, 2019

DONGSIK

Dongsik is hanging clothes to dry in the bathroom when his phone starts ringing from the living room.

In the few seconds it takes to stumble out of the bathroom, nearly slipping on a damp towel in the process, his heart leaps a little.

What if it's him..?

A completely idiotic thought of course. Why on earth would his new team leader call him on a Saturday?

Still, that tiny flicker of hope flares as he grabs the phone, only to see Ji-Yeon's name flashing across the screen.

"Hello?"

"Dongsiiiiiik!" his sister whines into the phone, and immediately his stomach sinks. She only sounds like that when she's upset, or angry. Or both.

"I just talked to Dad," she rushes on. "About everything you've been going through. The bullying! Oh my god. Why didn't you say anything?"

Her voice isn't angry, just distressed. Overprotective, as always. Ji-Yeon has only two years on him, but has always acted like she was decades older.

"I-I didn't want to worry you. I just... I thought it would stop on its own. And I was really embarrassed," he confesses.

"Oh, Dongsik," she sighs, the tension in her voice softening. "You can't go through stuff like this by yourself! I know I've got Yong-Gu and the little one now, but come on, you know you can always come to me, right? Always."

It hasn't been long since Ji-Yeon became a mother and Dongsik understands that she has to prioritize her husband and baby now, but he really appreciates her telling him this.

"Thanks, noona," he says quietly.

She invites him to dinner the next day.

"I'm inviting Dong-Chan too. Wanna bet on whether he actually shows up this time?" she grins.

Dongsik laughs. Their seventeen-year-old stepbrother rarely makes appearances at family dinners, preferring, understandably, literally anything else.

"That boy would fake his own death to get out of a meal with us," Dongsik says with a fond smile.

"Oh, and!" Ji-Yeon's voice pitches up again. "A little birdy told me your new boss is not only an actual hero but also ridiculously handsome? What's going on there, hm? Tell me everything!"

He thanks the universe she didn't FaceTime him, his face is so red, it's basically a health hazard.


Sunday, March 17, 2019

INWOO

"I would appreciate if we could talk about something other than your work," Kim Eun-shil tries not to sound too annoyed, but she fails.

Inwoo just stares blankly at his stepmother, fully aware she wants them to pretend they're a normal family. To pretend they don't have two brothers who actively despise each other, and a sister who barely ever gets a word in.

He's not even sure why he shows up for these dinners anymore. Probably just to avoid standing out even more in a family that already sees him as the black sheep.

There used to be family dinners every Sunday, but after his sister Ji-Eun got married and had a child, they thankfully scaled it back to once a month. Ji-Eun and her husband usually bring their child, but today they'd hired a babysitter.

Which is perfect. Inwoo can't stand children.

The evening unfolds exactly the same every time: polite niceties exchanged like strangers forced into awkward proximity.

"Umma, I promise we'll stop talking about it soon, but first, a toast! To our new director-with-personnel-responsibility AND team leader: my dear big brother! Taking on that sad excuse for a department," Ji-Hun sneers at Inwoo, lifting his wine glass with fake enthusiasm.

"Yes, congratulations!" joins Kim Chan-il, Ji-Eun's lackluster, spineless, dumb-as-bread husband.

Inwoo sips his glass, not bothering to meet anyone's eyes. Counting down until it's 7 pm and socially acceptable for him to take his leave.

After all, he's got a murder to plot. He'd rather spend his free time on that.

Eun-shil starts babbling about a concert she and Chung-Hyeon, or The President, as she insists on calling him, are attending.

Inwoo can't quite remember when it started, but one day his father demanded they all refer to him as "The President," even in private. Tragic. Inwoo only complies because he's too tired to argue.

Dinner drags on endlessly, touching on topics Inwoo barely registers. His mind is focused on his new project. His new victim.

He feels a flutter of anticipation, almost like butterflies, thinking about tomorrow, when he'll meet Dongsik again, watching him turn into a blushing, jittery mess just by gazing at him a little too intensely. That little fucker.

Ji-Eun and Kim-Chan-il leave a little earlier than usual, impatient to get home to their beloved offspring.

Inwoo checks the clock with annoyance. He can't leave yet, not until 7:00. Or else he'll hear about it nonstop until the next dinner.

As soon as Ji-Eun and her husband leaves, Eun-shil escapes upstairs, leaving Inwoo, Ji-Hun, and The President to their business.

She's barely even out of the room before Ji-Hun opens his mouth.

"Okay, there's one thing I just have to say," Ji-Hun glances at Inwoo to see if he's listening.

Inwoo doesn't want to give his brother any attention, and tries to ignore him. But he can't help but look at him with a raised eyebrow. Ji-Hun's always been a loudmouth brat.

"I've spoken to Kong Chan-Seok, and he told me something really... I don't know how best to describe it... Hm, let me think."

"Or, don't try to do things you're not capable of," Inwoo stares at his wine glass instead, not bothering to look at him.

"Ha-ha. Ah! I think the word I'm looking for is... funny! He said something really funny."

"Are you going to enlighten us about the funny thing today, or do you need a week?" Chung-Hyeon says. He looks impatient. His tone isn't harsh, because he never speaks harshly to his favorite son.

Ji-Hun's lips twist in exaggerated displeasure, the kind of look that belongs on a sulky teenager, not a grown man. "Kong told me that Inwoo threatened him. Threatened his life!"  

Inwoo throws his head back, and laughs out loud. It's a sincere belly laugh. Imagining Kong bitching to Ji-Hun is hysterical.

"He'll probably say anything to get sympathy and his job back. All he did there was harass and bully those under him," Inwoo mutters.

Chung-Hyeon is looking at him with that look he sometimes gets. The look that says that he's sure his eldest son is a ticking time bomb that could go off at any moment.

"I still think we should've looked into it more. Maybe kicking Kong out so fast wasn't the smartest move. He was a good asset," Chung-Hyeon says, dabbing at his mouth with a napkin.

"But are we just going to ignore the fact that Inwoo is running around and threatening people's lives?" Ji-Hun complains. The pout is back, and so is Inwoo's recurring urge to swan-dive off the balcony.

Inwoo calmly sets down his wine glass and adjusts his tie. "Kong has always been a walking disaster. Clearly delusional, too. I was just doing my job by setting boundaries, which he may have interpreted as a threat. It doesn't matter. I was just defending Yook Dongsik, who had been bullied by him for years."

"Right, now I remembered what I was going to ask you. You seem very interested in this Yook Dongsik, he has extra meetings with you all the time," Ji-Hun's eyes narrowing.

"Well, as a victim of bullying in our company, that lasted for a while right under our noses, that we didn't put a stop to, he needs extra support and care. A team leader should look after his employees, you know," Inwoo replies casually without sparing him a glance.

"Oh, I get it. You want him, don't you? Dongsik is really cute. An innocent little bully victim who needs a little extra... support and care like you say."

Inwoo feels the blood instantly rush to his head. Damn Ji-Hun, always wanting what Inwoo has.

Even if the envious little troll has completely misunderstood the nature of Inwoo's interest in Dongsik, which is a good thing.

Ji-Hun grins and downs the rest of his wine. God knows how many glasses he's had by now.

"I don't understand why we're still talking about Dongsik," Inwoo says, feigning disinterest.

Ji-Hun pats him on the shoulder annoyingly.

Inwoo looks at the hand left on his shoulder and feels like breaking all the fingers attached to said hand, one by one, slowly, but decides to keep that thought strictly in his imagination.

"If you don't wanna make a move on him... I think I will," Ji-Hun smirks.

Inwoo has to resist the blinding urge to tackle him onto the floor and rearrange his features. With both fists.

The fact that the President is watching makes him decide otherwise.

Can't be physical.

The damn President doesn't say a word, just observes them like a hawk.

Inwoo knows this isn't smart, but can't help drawing a line.

"I have worked way too hard for you to mess things up by being unprofessional. If you so much as touch a hair on Dongsik's head, I'll break your fingers," he says calmly, as if they were talking about the weather. His expression a picture of indifference.

Again, Ji-Hun demonstrates a complete lack of survival instinct, and does what he does best: provoke his anger.

"It's not his entire head I'm interested in, anyway. Just his mouth," Ji-Hun grins drunkenly.

Inwoo moves without thinking.

He lurches out of his chair, grabs Ji-Hun's hand, twists it behind his back and pulls it in an unnatural angle.

Ji-Hun ends up pinned to the table, face pressed into the dinner plate. His drunk whining does nothing to falter Inwoo's anger, who is still seeing red.

The blow shouldn't have been unexpected, Inwoo should have seen it coming. He knew this reaction would come as soon as he laid hands on Ji-Hun.

The fist hits him right beneath his jaw, on the side of his throat, and he instinctively lets go of his brother's hand. He ends up taking a couple of steps to the side to avoid falling.

Of course, it's not Ji-Hun who hit him, he doesn't dare. He's just bark, no bite.

Chung-Hyeon glares at Inwoo and raises his fist again, ready to lay another blow. But he doesn't.

Just hit me. In fact, kill me for that matter. Do the world a favor and get rid of your psychopathic son, Inwoo thinks and ignores the urge to rub his throbbing jaw.

No way he's giving his father the satisfaction.

He simply raises his hands slightly, a gesture of surrender.

"See?! He's completely sick in the head! Threatening both people at work, and now me!" Ji-Hun wails.

"You're both grown men, behave like it! I can take away both of your jobs in a heartbeat, and if you end up on the street over an insignificant employee-"

"No, no, oh my god, I'm just kidding with Inwoo! But he takes everything I say so damn seriously!" Ji-Hun whines, backpedaling.

Inwoo glances down at his watch again.
"There's not going to be any more arguing about Dongsik."

He strides out.


Monday, March 18, 2019

DONGSIK

Dongsik had originally been scheduled for his one-on-one meeting at 1:30 pm today, but at the end of the workday on Friday he had received a notification that the time had changed.

It had been moved to 10:00 am, likely because of the opening left by Seok-Hyun's doctor's appointment.

That meant Dongsik would now be the first in the department to attend these individual meetings.

He's wearing his best blazer today, pressed, carefully chosen. Jeong-A even complimented him on it earlier.

When he thinks about it, all of his colleagues have been treating him noticeably better lately. He knows they probably never had anything personal against him. That they were scared of the consequences of supporting him or favoring him.

They had therefore kept their distance and silence.

Dongsik had spent his weekend preparing a six-page report, detailing every incident of verbal and physical abuse he endured from Kong.

He dreads the thought of Inwoo reading it, even though Inwoo had told him he had nothing to be ashamed of.

But that's easier said than believed.

He's ashamed that he couldn't claw his way out on his own, that it took someone higher up in the system to drag him free.

He feels so incredibly weak and cowardly.

"Excuse me?"

Dongsik's pity-party is interrupted by a voice next to him. He turns his head and spots Yu-Jin. She bows politely to him and the others.

"Good morning. I just wanted to ask if you could each write down your favorite coffee, tea, or other drink on a post-it note for me? No alcoholic drinks, please," she adds with a small smile.

Without asking questions, they comply, scribbling down their preferred beverages and handing them to her. She bows again and disappears out of the room.

"I think I know what this is..." Jae-Ho mutters, leaning back in his chair. "The new team leader thinks he can win us over with a drink. Like that'll magically make us trust him."

"Oh, come onnnn," Jeong-A sighs. "Buying me a latte will definitely get him into my good books, but I don't think that's what he's trying to do. He's probably embarrassed that something as serious as bullying and harassment went undetected for so long, without anyone doing anything about it!"

"I think so too. I think he's trying to make things right," Mi-Joo seconds.

Dongsik wants to join the conversation, add his own thoughts. But a glance at his watch reminds him that his meeting is only thirty minutes away.

He turns his attention back to the report, making final adjustments before it's time.


There's an iced Americano waiting for him when Dongsik pokes his head into Inwoo's office. Inwoo rises from his seat and bows. Dongsik bows back, awkwardly, and shuffles over to sit down.

Inwoo sits down too, nodding toward the iced coffee on the desk.

"One of my favorites too," he smiles gently at him.

With sunlight streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows behind him, Inwoo looks almost ethereal. Like a saving angel. He's so beautiful that Dongsik can't hold eye contact for more than a few seconds at a time.

"Sir. Uhm, oh, yes, it's really good," he stammers, noticing how the papers in his hand are making noise because he's shaking slightly.

Not even a minute in, and he's already a nervous wreck. Nothing like a good old trainwreck to kick things off.

He places the papers down on Inwoo's desk, more to quiet the sound than anything else.

"Erm. This is the document you asked for. There are quite a few examples of incidents of bullying involving Kong. The most serious ones anyway." 

Without answering, Inwoo simply picks up the report and starts reading, his expression shifting to something focused and unreadable. He flips through a few pages, skimming silently.

"How long have you worked here?" he asks after a moment.

"For four years, sir."

"I see here," Inwoo taps page two, "you've included an incident from 2015. Does that mean you've been dealing with Kong since the beginning?"

Dongsik gives a small nod.

"Can I ask you something, Dongsik?"

Dongsik nods again, this time reaching for the iced coffee. His palms are sweaty, and the cold cup helps.

"Am I assuming too much by thinking that you didn't dare tell the previous personnel manager because he was friends with Kong? That you felt you couldn't tell anyone without the bullying getting worse? That you felt... trapped?"

Dongsik is impressed by how correct Inwoo's assumption is.

"Um, yes. That's true. That's... exactly how I felt," he admits shamefully.

Inwoo sets the report down and looks at him. There's a heaviness in his eyes now, something sad and deeply sincere.

"I'm sorry I didn't do anything for you sooner. I can't imagine how... hard that must've been. How isolated you must have felt."

"N-no, no, you didn't know! You couldn't have done anything-" Dongsik starts to protest, but Inwoo gently interrupts.

"I didn't know the full extent of it, no. But I did know Kong wasn't fit to be a team leader. I could have spoken to Ji-Hun about it. We both could have done more to get him out sooner. But I didn't. I let it go on. I'm so sorry. I have such an incredibly guilty conscience."

Dongsik doesn't know what to say. He's moved by Inwoo's empathy, especially now, when the problem has already been dealt with. Inwoo didn't have to say any of this. But he did.

He's struggling to explain that Inwoo isn't at fault, but before he can, Inwoo switches gears and fires off other questions.

The conversation moves along more smoothly after that, typical getting to know your new leader type of questions. So far, it's going better than Dongsik expected.

What are your short-term and long-term goals with us? Do you enjoy your tasks? Do you feel you've received enough training? How do you feel about the work environment, and how well do you collaborate with others?

Answering the final questions, Dongsik has to honestly admit he connects more with all of his colleagues now that Kong is finally gone.

He mentions that he especially likes Mi-Joo and Jeong-A, and he doesn't blame the others for not getting involved, they were just trying to avoid becoming targets.

"You're a good person, Dongsik. Maybe a little too kind for your own good," Inwoo murmurs, offering him another gentle smile.

Dongsik is terrible at accepting compliments, but manages to squeeze out a little thank you.

Thankfully, there aren't too many personal questions. He doesn't really want to talk about his painfully uneventful life outside of work, which mainly consists of hanging out at his father's restaurant, watching movies with Bo-kyung, and, on wild nights, gaming until 4 am.

The most personal question Inwoo asks is about his age and previous work experience.

Dongsik explains that he used to work in a similar role at another office, but the company was struggling financially, and they never offered him a permanent contract, so he had to move on.

When the meeting ends, Inwoo walks Dongsik all the way to the elevator and shakes his hand, which feels like a formality he really didn't need to do. Not that Dongsik minds.

As the elevator doors begin to close, Inwoo holds his gaze and says, "I look forward to getting to know you even better, Dongsik."

There's something in the way he says it that makes Dongsik giggle like a schoolgirl once the doors close.


Friday, March 22, 2019

It's strange how much easier everything feels now.

Even his tasks are more rewarding now, though they are exactly the same as before.

Like he can finally breathe again. Like he doesn't have to overthink every single word or movement.

He always knew the bullying affected him, but he hadn't realized just how much it had paralyzed him.

It's also strange how his coworkers now meet his eyes when they talk to him. How they smile. How the atmosphere is lighter, that the team spirit higher, and collaboration feels natural. Even fun.

Another recent improvement: lunch breaks are now 60 minutes long instead of 40.

That had been a point of contention for a while, especially since most other departments, and the managers, already had an hour for lunch.

But the regular employees never got that luxury. Until now.

Inwoo made that happen too.

Dongsik's lunch usually overlaps with either Mi-Joo's or Jeong-A's, which he really appreciates, since they are the two people in the office he likes the most.

So it's a bit disappointing when he checks the lunch schedule and sees he's down for a solo break at 1:00 pm.

He's not exactly looking forward to eating alone.

Dongsik's mobile vibrates in his pocket, and he takes it out and reads the notification.

A text from Inwoo.
'Let's have lunch together today at 1:00 pm'

Dongsik reads the message four or five times before it actually sinks in.

Is this out of guilt? Does Inwoo just feel bad for him? Or... does he actually want to get to know him better?

Personally, not just as an employee?

Or was it simply a sympathy lunch?

Dongsik is at a complete loss for a reply. Should he ask where they're going? Where to meet?

Before he can decide, another text arrives.

"Let's meet downstairs on the 1st floor at 1:00. I know a good place nearby."

Dongsik looks around guiltily, as if he's gotten something illegal on his phone. That familiar nervous anticipation swirls in his stomach again, that tingling sensation he now associates entirely with Inwoo.

'That sounds great! See you at 1:00 :)' he replies.


At exactly 1:00 pm, Dongsik steps out of the elevator on the first floor, not wanting to be late. Now that Kong isn't breathing down his neck, he can actually leave his desk a few minutes early to make it on time.

He spots Inwoo immediately, standing near the front doors, looking serious. But when he sees Dongsik, his expression softens. He nods in greeting.

Dongsik's cheeks warm, signaling the start of a full-on blush. He pinches his arm, forcing himself to focus on the pain instead.

"I hope you weren't disappointed with your choice of... lunch partner today," Inwoo says and finally he smiles at Dongsik.

It's a beautiful smile, wide and genuine, and easy. It reminds Dongsik of clouds parting and the sun shining through. It's a smile Dongsik would like to see on his lips all the time.

"N-no, not at all! Sir, it's... it's really nice that you wanted to eat with me! Where are we going?" he yelps, praying the blush isn't too visible.

"Come with me," Inwoo answers simply, turning and heading out. Dongsik following awkwardly.

A couple of men from another department nod politely at them on the way out, mostly at Inwoo. Dongsik doesn't recognize them.

Inwoo walks with big, decisive strides. Dongsik does his best to keep up.

"Now, I don't know what you prefer to eat for lunch, but I think they have really good food where we're going," Inwoo starts, and Dongsik just listens curiously.

"It's not typical lunch fare, but I haven't eaten all day. I ran six kilometers before work this morning, on an empty stomach, so I need something more substantial than the salad bar," He continues, glancing and smiling briefly at Dongsik.

"What! Six kilometers before work?!" Dongsik can't help himself, just the thought of jogging makes his knees hurt. And especially on an empty stomach before going to work at 8 am.

Inwoo explains that it's part of his usual routine, and Dongsik thinks, I should start exercising too.

Just not running, he can't stand that.

But of course he doesn't share that with Inwoo.

After about ten minutes of walking, they arrive at the restaurant that Inwoo thinks has good, but not typical lunch food. And Dongsik can agree with that, this place is famous for its heavily meat-based cuisine.

Inside, Dongsik browses the menu. It's surprisingly expensive, definitely pricier than his father's restaurant. He keeps this observation to himself.

They settle on the same dish. When the waitress comes over, she addresses only Inwoo, completely ignoring Dongsik. From the way she speaks to him, it's obvious Inwoo is a regular.

Inwoo orders for both of them. Dongsik can't help but find that a little... appealing?

He doesn't want to admit it, but this feels like Inwoo has taken him on a date or something.

Which is a supremely idiotic thought. Even for him.

"Do you eat here often?" he asks, mostly to distract himself from his dangerously stupid imagination.

"Well, not often, but occasionally. You've never been here before?"

"No, but the food looks amazing," Dongsik answers, wondering if he can ask Inwoo why he wanted to have lunch with him without seeming displeased with the fact.

Is Inwoo having lunch with all of Dongsik's colleagues too? That is highly unlikely, he would surely have heard talk about it by now.

"Maybe refrain from mentioning to your colleagues that I'm taking you out to lunch? It could be perceived the wrong way. They might think I'm... favoring you or something," Inwoo says softly, as if reading Dongsik's mind.

He wonders if he's really that easy to read, or if it's just Inwoo who's particularly good at it.

"Oh, no, I don't have to say anything! Th-this can stay between us," Dongsik feels the tingling feeling again.

As if he's Inwoo's dirty little secret.

He blushes at the thought. But now he'd gone a few minutes without blushing so of course it was going to happen.

They talk about work while they wait for their food. At one point he notices that Inwoo goes from looking at him intently, to his gaze falling to his throat.

In pure reflex, Dongsik's hand goes to his collar, patting away at whatever has caught Inwoo's attention.

He's afraid that he's spilled something on his shirt-collar, even though he hasn't gotten his food yet.

He's about to ask, but just then the waiter brings out their food. There are huge portions and Dongsik gets a little discouraged that he might not be able to handle it all.

They start eating, sitting in silence for a while.

Dongsik is surprised that the silence isn't oppressive, it feels strangely safe.

"I have a tiny ulterior motive for buying you lunch," Inwoo takes a sip of water from his glass, and swallows.

That catches Dongsik's notice, who is mesmerized by his Adam's apple and the way it bobs as he swallows the water again.

Dongsik realizes, to his horror, that the sight makes him a little... horny?!

Amazingly enough, in an attempt to collect himself, he chokes on his own spit, starts coughing, and ends up having to drink water himself.

Inwoo stares at him.
"Are you okay? Do I need to pat you on the back or what?"

"Uh-sorry! No, I just... s-swallowed wrong. But wait a minute, what did you say? And you really don't have to buy me lunch, I'll pay for myself of course!" he stutters out the words, cursing his own reactions.

Do people get turned on by Adam's apples? Is that a thing?!

"I chose the place and forced you to eat with me, so of course I'll pay. There's no point in discussing it. But anyway. I wanted to tell you that I have something for you," Inwoo looks at him with a look he can't decipher.

Got something for him?

"Oh! Thank you so much! F-for m-me?" Dongsik stutters.

Inwoo leans forward a little, a sly little smile playing on his lips.

Without thinking, Dongsik leans closer too. 

And now you kiss.

Oh, shut up! He thinks to himself.

"Right. But there are still some things I need to fix, so I can't tell you quite yet. But I know you'll like it," Inwoo's leaning back in his chair with a smug little smile, then calmly returns to eating.

Dongsik just sits there, chopsticks suspended between his fingers, and just looks at him, having completely lost the ability to speak.

"Y-you know I'll like it? Like what?"

"You'll find out on Monday," Inwoo replies decisively, indicating that he won't be spoiling the surprise.

"O-on Monday? But it's only Friday!"

Chapter Text

Monday, March 25, 2019

DONGSIK

He's so excited. Where did that come from? And what could it be, anyway? Like... an object?

Inwoo had already done so much for him, he could barely wrap his head around getting another thing. He'd gotten Kong fired the very next day after Dongsik spoke up. And he'd bought him lunch!

Now what?

He'd called Bo-kyung on Friday to tell her about the lunch. She was immediately convinced that Inwoo was trying to ask him out or something, which of course made Dongsik laugh nervously and blush so hard he thought he'd combust.

Since then, he'd run through every possible scenario in his head, multiple times, and had gotten absolutely nowhere. Just more stressed. A full weekend of overthinking had brought him zero answers.

Something you’'l like, Inwoo had said. That could be literally anything.


He's starting to get used to these little trips up to Inwoo's office. He wonders if his colleagues have noticed how often he's being called in, compared to everyone else.

Then again, considering everything he went through with Kong, it really shouldn't seem that strange.

He gives a polite nod to Yu-Jin, who must be sick of seeing his face by now. If she is, she doesn't show it. She just smiles and tells him he can knock and head in.

He obeys and knocks, only to have the door swing open before he can touch the handle.

Inwoo.

And wow.
Dongsik is taken aback for a second. Inwoo always looks good, but today there's something... extra. He can't quite put his finger on it, but it's there, and it's distracting.

Inwoo gestures for him to come in, and Dongsik follows him to the desk, where a few neatly folded bundles of fabric are laid out. He peers at them, curious.

"What do you think of this suit?" Inwoo points to his own suit, as if there was any doubt about which suit he was referring to.

Dongsik's eyes wander up and down his body - his suit, a little too long.

"The suit? Uhm, it is- well, it is nice? Very... nice?" Dongsik says, the sentence sounding more like a question than a compliment.

Inwoo smiles slyly and hands him a small business card. Dongsik accepts it and reads:
Jo He-Kim – tailor

A phone number. An address.

He flips it over, just a logo on the back.

"This is your surprise," Inwoo says, like that explains anything.

Inwoo wanted him to have a tailor's calling card? That's the surprise?

Dongsik glances between the card and Inwoo, confused.
"I... I don't understand?"

"I hope you don't take this the wrong way," Inwoo is leaning lightly on his desk, resting one hand on it. He tilts his head slightly, as if he's trying to peek straight into Dongsik's vulnerable little soul.

"As you know, I feel terrible about what you went through with Kong. And I wanted to give you something. I don't know, as a thank you for hanging in there. Something useful. Something you'll get to wear to work and keep for a long time. I'd like to gift you a suit."

"Wh-whaa-what?"
That's the only word Dongsik can say. He's starting to sound like a broken record.

A broken, ungrateful little bitch.

Dongsik thinks he catches a subtle eye-roll, but it happens so fast he can't be sure.

"He-Kim is one of the best. I use him all the time. I've already spoken to him. He'll come home to you after work today so you can try on a few different suits and decide which one you prefer."

"Wait, wait!" Dongsik has finally remembered how to say other words again. "I-I can't, I mean, you can't just give me a suit! At least let me pay for it?"

Inwoo shakes his head. "No nonsense Dongsik. You just have to accept it, I'm afraid. I'm your boss, and I've decided. You're not going to pay for anything I give you. That is the entire point of gifts."

Dongsik wants to pinch himself. This feels wildly surreal. He glances at the fabric samples again.

Unable to come up with a protest, he watches Inwoo grab two of the textiles and hold them up to his flustered face.

"It has to be one of these two shades. Both of them suit your complexion, make your skin glow," Inwoo looks closely at him. 

... Glow?! What the actual fuck? What is happening here?

"Um... thank you? They're both... very nice," Dongsik's brain is malfunctioning, but what else is new?

One fabric is a rich navy blue, the other a deep charcoal gray. Both are high quality and classic, but Dongsik can't choose between them, because of brain-failure.

And he definitely cannot accept a tailor-made suit from his boss.

Even his dysfunctional brain knows that.

It must be crazy expensive! How can Inwoo simply decide to send a tailor to his house?
Wait, how does he even know where Dongsik lives?

Wouldn't it be more normal for Dongsik to go to the tailor himself? Or, if Inwoo really wanted to gift him something, couldn't he have just gone for another iced Americano?

But a suit?!

"Indeed. They're both nice," Inwoo's holding up the navy fabric. "But I think this one would suit you best."

Dongsik just nods like a malfunctioning bobblehead, his hair flopping into his eyes. "Th-thank you, sir, but I really can't accept this! It's just way too much!"

"As I said, I'm afraid you have no choice. I am giving it to you and you're going to wear it. And if I have to drug you, strip you down, and put the suit on you myself, so be it," Inwoo says with a solemn face, then breaks into a big smile.

Dongsik, who momentarily forgot to breathe, looks at him with scared eyes. But of course he realizes it's a joke. He lets out what's meant to be a laugh, but it sounds more like a startled yelp.

He clears his throat loudly and prays for dignity.
"Oh! Eheheh, I-I guess that settles it... doesn't sound like I have much of a choice. Th-thank you, really! What can I do to repay you?"

Kiss you? 

Dongsik cringes at his own internal monologue.
Where did that idea come from? He can't think like that, what's wrong with him?!

"All you have to do is go straight home after work, so you can let the tailor in and let him do his job," Inwoo replies, sounding almost irritated.

"I-I see! And, uh, w-when is he coming? Does he have my address? How..."

"He'll be at your place at 5:00 pm. I found your address in our company's database."


INWOO

Of course Inwoo knows it's too much.

He's perfectly aware that Dongsik will struggle accepting such an expensive gift. That Dongsik will feel like he owes him something.

And that is the entire point.

As far as Dongsik knows, he's just getting a beautiful suit he'll enjoy wearing. What's really happening is that he's being handed a burden, wrapped in fine fabric. He'll feel indebted to Inwoo. That weight will gnaw at him, eat away at his conscience, hopefully keep him up at night.

Even if Inwoo is going to kill Dongsik, he doesn't mind seeing him in a nice suit for a while. Especially if there are such nice benefits to it. He can't kill him right away anyway.

Dongsik probably thinks he's doing this out of the goodness of his heart. That he believes Dongsik deserves something nice after enduring so much at work. As if.

"Are-are you coming too?" Dongsik blushes at his own question. 

Maybe to your funeral, you dumb cunt.

"Excuse me?" Inwoo plays innocent, even though he knows that Dongsik is wondering if he's also going to join the tailor and Dongsik in his apartment. To watch him try on suits and get measured.

It could be entertaining, like watching a bug squirm. But he doesn't want to give Dongsik the pleasure of his company after work. Not yet anyway.

"I mean, uhm I-"

"Ah, I see. Unfortunately, I won't have time. But I'm looking forward to hearing how it went tomorrow," Inwoo smiles sweetly.


DONGSIK

As soon as the tailor leaves his apartment, Dongsik throws himself onto the couch and opens FaceTime. He has to tell Bo-kyung, this is way too weird to keep to himself.

But before he opens up, he asks how her day was, how she's feeling.

Bo-kyung, ever the multitasker, tells him it's been an uneventful day at work. She's just come back from visiting her parents and looks about as exhausted as he feels.

Dongsik dives into the tea. The entire thing is so strange, there is no proper way of broaching this topic.

"Uhm... so I just had a tailor come over. Like, to my apartment. I tried on a few suits."

"You what?" Bo-kyung asks, looking at him, scanning his features through the screen, as if that would reveal the lie.

"Yeah, remember when I said Inwoo had something for me? Well. That something turned out to be a custom-made suit. He sent a tailor to my place. A real tailor."

"Wait what? He's just going to give you a suit?" she wonders.

"Yes, you heard me! He said he wanted to give me something because he has such a guilty conscience for everything I've been through with Kong. Obviously, I said I couldn’t accept it, but he insisted! Said I didn't have a choice."

Talking about this, he's becoming even more aware of how weird this is.

"That's incredibly kind, but I'm still skeptical. Are you sure he doesn't expect anything in return?”

"Like what?"

"Hm. I don't know. Your little ass or something?" she grins.

Dongsik blushes immediately at Bo-kyung's assumption, his face turns bright red and he starts laughing nervously.

"No, no, my god, that's crazy!" he sputters, considers it even as he's denying it, then continues "...though I wouldn't mind..."

His admission shocks himself, but Bo-kyung is clearly not that surprised.

"Damn! Okay, we're there! I guess I saw that coming," she giggles.

Dongsik has to laugh again, he feels so stupid, and maybe a little relieved, and is happy that no one else can hear them.

They end up talking for almost an hour.

Finally, Dongsik has to hang up because his constantly rumbling stomach is nagging him and demanding dinner. He realizes that he hasn't eaten anything since lunch.


Wednesday, March 27, 2019

DONGSIK

"As you know, we've started the process of finding a new team leader for your department," Ji-Hun is looking down at the paper in his hand.

While this topic is of utmost importance to their department, the guy seems to be on the verge of falling asleep. That's how bored he seems with the entire thing.

It's 8:30 am. Everyone in the department is at their desks, coffees in hand, watching the director with polite anticipation.

A few minutes ago, Dongsik had nearly leapt out of his chair when Inwoo suddenly appeared in the open-plan office. He hadn't even looked at him, just entered coolly with Ji-Hun and Yu-Jin right behind, the three of them now standing at the front of the room.

Ji-Hun's eyes land on Dongsik, and for the first time, he catches a glimpse of the family resemblance between the brothers. They don't look like siblings, but it's in the intensity of the gaze.

The gaze that arrests you and holds you captive until you have no choice but to look away. 

But unlike the magnetic kind of tension he feels under Inwoo's gaze, Ji-Hun's look makes Dongsik's stomach twist uncomfortably. He can't really explain it, but it's almost as if Ji-Hun sees him as prey he's ready to sink his teeth into.

A completely idiotic thought of course. It's probably a thing employers like to do, a domination-tactic.

Ji-Hun breaks the eye-contact, he looks at Inwoo instead.

Inwoo, who so often looks solemn, now stands with a small, almost sly smile. Dongsik feels the cold, disgusting feeling in the pit of his stomach being replaced by a warm, tingling sensation.

Why did he have to find Inwoo so attractive? This is starting to get exhausting.

Luckily enough, it's not like they see or talk to each other every day, so the feelings can be kept in check.

For now.

"I'm happy to let you know we've officially appointed a new team leader," Ji-Hun announces. "Although maybe new isn't quite right, you've already had him for a few weeks. Seo Inwoo personally suggested stepping into the role full-time, and he'll be handing off some of his other responsibilities to me."

Dongsik hears someone making a strange sound, and becomes painfully aware that the sound is coming from him.

All eyes are suddenly on him.

He clears his throat and pats his chest like he's choking on air, giving a half-hearted cough.

Really smooth, he thinks and hopes that someone will say something soon. Or that the ceiling will cave in and crush him, putting him out of his dumb misery.

Inwoo is looking at him and smiling. He's also the first to break the silence. "As mentioned earlier, I'll still keep my office. I realize the physical distance might seem a bit odd, but I'll be reachable by mobile and email, and I'll be dropping by regularly. If you need anything, just come see me."

Someone asks a question, or maybe makes a comment, but Dongsik can't focus.

This is bad.

This means that he will both see and talk to Inwoo every single day from now on. The attraction he felt for the guy? He's colleagues will find out!

And how will he get any work done?


Monday, April 8, 2019

INWOO

He'd received a call from the tailor at 9:00 am today, the suit was ready. All that was left was to deliver it to Dongsik.

"No," Inwoo had said quickly, and further explained that he wanted to gift it personally. The delivery should be made to his own address instead.

He knows it isn't appropriate. But he wants Dongsik to try on the suit in front of him. He wants to invite him into his home just so he can... watch him. And make him blush, sputter, sweat, and choke.

Maybe kill him?

Unfortunately, he has to wait to kill him, but he has a strong need to get even closer to Dongsik, to have a connection with him outside of work.

Dongsik is always petrified when Inwoo speaks or even looks at him, so he will definitely go along with his plan.


Right now, Dongsik is in the IT room, printing out the report Inwoo asked for. He could wait for him to bring it by his office, but where's the fun in that?

Making it look like a coincidence, Inwoo acts surprised to see him in said room.

"Dongsik, thank you for prioritizing this report, but I need to ask you something."

As hoped, Dongsik jumps a mile in the air. Inwoo almost laughs.  

He has intentionally walked as quietly as he could so Dongsik wouldn't spot him. He just can't get enough of watching Dongsik struggle to act normal in front of him.

"Oh!" Dongsik turns to face him, clutching his chest dramatically, clearly unsettled. 

Score: Inwoo = 1, Dongsik = minus one life.
 
"Oh my god, I mean um, sir, Seo, you scared me! I didn't hear you come in."

"I didn't mean to sneak up on you and scare you," Inwoo lies shamelessly, smiling like a Cheshire-cat.

It has the desired effect. Every. Single. Time. And Inwoo appreciates a perfect pattern.

"I-it's fine! I just have... weird reactions sometimes!" Dongsik almost shouts back. 

No shit.

"What are you doing Wednesday?" Inwoo asks, still smiling.

"Uhm, Wednesday? I'm w-working?"

"You don't say. I meant after work."

"Oh. After? I-Im not doing anything, I think," Dongsik's eyes flicker, looking uncertain.

"So you're... available?" Inwoo steps closer, happily breaching Dongsik's personal space.

"Available?!" Dongsik's voice rises into falsetto.

This is so much fun, but I have to put an end to his suffering, Inwoo thinks.

"I'll have the suit delivered to me on Wednesday. The tailor sent it to my place instead of yours, some mix-up. I know I could just bring it to the office and hand it over but..."

Inwoo glances discreetly over his shoulder, to show Dongsik that he's afraid someone will hear him, before continuing: "I'm afraid it might look a bit... inappropriate if the others saw me giving you a tailor-made suit. You understand, surely."

"Uhm! I-I don't understand-" Dongsik stammers, like always.

Inwoo has to restrain himself from grabbing Dongsik's shoulders, and throwing him into the wall behind them. Instead he imagines smashing his stupid head into the printer.

It's too early for this level of stupid.

"I want you to come to my apartment and try the suit on, so I can see... if it fits you right."

Dongsik is standing there, gaping like a fish out of water.

It looks like he's having a small heart attack, and Inwoo suddenly becomes afraid he has taken it too far too soon. He hopes Dongsik stops glitching soon, so he doesn't have to perform CPR at work today.

That would be inconvenient, demeaning and not according to plan. And Inwoo is running a tight schedule as usual.

Since Dongsik clearly has lost his ability to speak, Inwoo goes on. "Unless you're not comfortable with that. Maybe it's a bit too forward? A little weird?"

"N-no, no!" Dongsik suddenly shakes himself out of his stupor. 

A miracle! It can speak again!

"Sir, th-that, I was just surprised by the suggestion, but I'd be happy to come to you on Wednesday!"

In this moment, Inwoo thinks Dongsik almost looks... cute? In a way a scrappy, shaggy, homeless puppy looks cute? He looks so confused and happy. And panicky.

Dongsik slaps himself on the forehead. Perfect, chefs kiss.

"Oh no, oh, I can't on Wednesday! I completely forgot, but I have to look after Micha and Mihi- erm, that's-"

"You're going to babysit?" Inwoo asks, trying to hide his annoyance.

Dongsik smiles reluctantly. He's noticed that Dongsik gets little lines next to his eyes when he smiles, it's almost pleasant. Almost.

"No, no! Those are Bo-kyung's two dogs- erm, she's my best friend! Or erm, they're not really hers, they're her parents', uhm, sir."

So incredibly uninteresting, Inwoo thinks as he watches Dongsik pull out his phone and scroll through pictures.

"See?!" he says, handing it over.

It's a picture of two small dogs. They must be Chihuahuas or something very similar. Inwoo isn't particularly keen on dogs, but especially not the small ones. Can they even be categorized as dogs?

Dongsik is clearly waiting for a response.

"Oh, I see. They look... they're... cute," Inwoo offers, but for some reason fails to fake genuineness.

Dongsik manages to catch it. "You don't have to say that if you don't mean it. Are you maybe afraid of dogs?" There's a certain playfulness to be detected in Dongsik's expression now.

It's a foreign feeling, to be the one uncomfortable.

"What!" Inwoo huffs at the question. "No, I'm not afraid of dogs. It's just-"

That I hate dogs. All animals really.
He doesn't understand the point of pets. But he can't say that out loud to Dongsik.

"Oh, I know!" Dongsik exclaims. "You're a cat person, right? That makes so much sense, you look like a cat person!"

Inwoo would have taken offense to that assumption had it not come from Dongsik. He shrugs, playing along. Anything to end this pointless detour.

"Damn Dongsik, you got me there. Looove cats."

"Ah, I knew it!"
Proud of his inference skills, Dongsik brushes invisible dust off his shoulder, looking all smug and slap-worthy. 

Special guest star: Dongsik's confidence.
Score: Dongsik = 1, Inwoo = 0.

Inwoo glances down at the picture on the screen once more before handing the phone back to Dongsik.

The dogs remind him of one they had when he and his siblings were young. His sister had adored that disgusting little creature more than anything in the world, and was devastated when it suddenly disappeared.

Everyone in the family had searched for it. Inwoo too.

After days of exhausting hunts around the neighborhood, his father had pulled him aside. Gripping his shoulders tightly, he'd shaken him hard.

"Did you do something to that dog, Inwoo? You have to tell me if you did something to that animal."

Inwoo had smiled sweetly, shook his head with all the innocence he could muster. But his father hadn't believed him.

He remembers overhearing his stepmother's low, furious whisper. "It didn't just run away! It couldn't have. And we both know there's something wrong with that boy. He did something to it."

Innocent until proven guilty, and no one could ever prove anything.

Inwoo couldn't have been more than twelve or thirteen years old when it happened. He had insisted on searching one last time with his sister later that day, even though he knew full well that no one would find the dog.

After all, he himself had buried it in the forest.




***
Start of graphic content:


A couple of days earlier, he had walked far into the forest, through rough terrain, just to make sure no one knew what he was doing. Once he had walked far enough, he'd dug a hole. It had taken a surprisingly long time to dig a deep enough hole with the little gardening shovel he had sneaked along.

Even though the dog was tiny, it had to be deep enough.

The next day he'd gone back, this time with the dog on a leash. He had tied the leash to a tree, and the dog had stood so obediently, looking at him with trusting eyes, completely oblivious.

Inwoo had gently patted the dog on the head, and held a treat up in front of its nose. The dog had sat down before he could say 'sit', and it looked at the treat with expectant eyes and drool at the corner of its mouth.

Inwoo had stood up and looked at the little dog. Looked at its thin legs. The dog had made a whining sound, impatient for the treat.

He had just looked at it mindlessly, before he'd lifted his leg and sat his foot down hard on the dog's paw. It had howled, and Inwoo had just continued stomping on its thin little legs until he had heard a lovely and delicious litany of cracking sounds.

He had untied the dog from the tree, held it by the leash, and dropped it into the hole. The dog had not been able to get up on its broken little legs, and had just laid there whimpering. Inwoo had taken the shovel and started throwing dirt over the suffering dog. The whimpers had grown fainter and fainter, and finally he hadn't heard a peep.

When there was a foot worth of the grave left to fill, he placed the shovel in there and dragged the rest of the soil into the hole with his booted foot.

Afterwards he had stood over the creature's grave and felt regret.

He had regretted that he hadn't spent more time on killing it, that he hadn't cut it up or something. To see what it looked like on the inside.


End of graphic content
***




"Uhm, Seo? Sir?"

Inwoo snaps out of his reverie, realizing he'd completely drifted off, lost in the sweet memories of the first animal he ever killed.

"Oh, sorry. I got a little distracted."

"I see! Y-you probably have a lot on your mind, and here I am, showing you dog pictures. Kind of... lame, huh?" Dongsik says, awkwardly.

"Don't apologize, it's not lame. I was just thinking about a meeting I have-" Inwoo looks at his watch. "In fifteen minutes."

"Aha! Right, I won't keep you!" Dongsik almost shouts, not realizing that it's actually Inwoo who is holding him hostage.

"Friday then?" Inwoo says.

Dongsik stares blankly for a moment, before he suddenly remembers what they were trying to arrange in the first place.

"Yes! Y-yeah, Friday is perfect!"


Friday, April 12, 2019

DONGSIK

Bo-kyung had a strong reaction when Dongsik told her that Inwoo had invited him over. Like any good best friend, she immediately questioned Inwoo's motives and intentions.

"What if this is him trying to seduce you or something? What are you going to do then?"

"Let him?" Dongsik had suggested, and Bo-kyung had rolled her eyes so hard he was surprised they didn't fall out the back of her head.

"You can't let your boss take advantage of you!" she had insisted.

"It's not exploitation if the one getting exploited likes it, right?" Dongsik had defended himself, blushing hard at his own words.

Bo-kyung launched into a long speech about power dynamics at work. Dongsik agreed with most of it, but couldn't deny, or hide, the fact that he found the whole situation exciting and... forbidden.

Inwoo was his boss. If something happened between them and it got out, Dongsik would probably get fired. Or Inwoo could be stripped of his HR duties or demoted as team leader. Something Dongsik definitely didn't want.

Maybe Inwoo didn't like him that way at all. Maybe he just wanted to be friends, or maybe he was simply trying to do Dongsik a favor out of a guilty conscience?

Sure, Inwoo refusing to hand over the suit at work made sense. But he could have just sent it to Dongsik's home. Since he'd see him in the suit anyway, it didn't make sense for him to insist on seeing Dongsik try it on in his apartment.

So Inwoo really wanted Dongsik to visit him, he inferred. Did he really want to hang out with him in his free time?

Unlike Bo-kyung, Dongsik didn't see this as a red flag. In fact, butterflies had taken up residence in his stomach the moment Inwoo asked if he wanted to come over. He'd been shocked... but happy.


Dongsik meets Inwoo in the underground parking lot after work. Since Dongsik doesn't have a car himself, he's never been here before. He's a little unsure if he's going the right way, until Inwoo steps out of the elevator, and suddenly he feels assured.

He gets a sudden urge to hug him, as if they're close friends or something, but he resists the temptation. Inwoo just nods quickly, barely looks at him, and walks toward a black car. Dongsik doesn't know much about cars, but even he can tell this one must be expensive.

To his surprise, Inwoo holds the car door open for him and waits till it clicks for Dongsik, and he gets in. He looks around, afraid that someone might have seen him.

It all feels so secretive. The tingling in his stomach has intensified. 

Inwoo held a door open... for him!

Inwoo gets behind the wheel and starts the engine. Loud notes of classical piano fill the car before Inwoo moves to lower the volume.

Of course the guy listens to classical music. His taste is as sophisticated as him.
Everything about him is... elevated.

"S-so you like classical music? Of course you do!" Dongsik tries to make small talk.

He's sitting so close to Inwoo, he can smell his perfume. The butterflies in his stomach are having a rave, to classical music, rushing towards his head and making him dizzy.

"Nope, hate it," Inwoo deadpans with a straight face, driving the car out of the garage.

As they start their journey to Inwoo's apartment, Dongsik realizes that that was a dumb question, and Inwoo clearly isn't in a talkative mood. To confirm that, Inwoo turns the volume up again.

They drive in silence.


"What an incredibly nice apartment you have!" Dongsik isn't exaggerating, it really is gorgeous.

"Thanks. I guess it is."
 
The first thing Dongsik notices is how tidy and organized everything is. And how clean it smells. The apartment is huge, and he feels like he doesn't belong here.

Inwoo takes his jacket and drapes it on a hanger, before doing the same with his own. Dongsik awkwardly follows him through the apartment until they reach a massive, state-of-the-art kitchen.

"Can I get you anything?" Inwoo washes his hands, dries them, and opens a large double-door fridge.

What Dongsik sees surprises him, it's almost empty. Barely any food, just water bottles and wine. Maybe some vegetables in the bottom drawer, but Inwoo closes it too quickly for Dongsik to be sure.

"I'm a terrible host. I don't have anything edible here, but you'll get something to drink," Inwoo says, sounding indifferent.

"Don't worry about it! I’m not hungry, so it's fine!"

How can a fridge be this empty? It's not like Inwoo is on a tight budget.

"I don't cook. I don't enjoy it. I either eat out or order in," Inwoo explains.

Dongsik looks at him wide-eyed. Definitely not a tight budget.

For some reason, Dongsik is overcome by an intense desire to cook for him.

Inwoo continues, "Sometimes I even forget to eat if I get too caught up in a project."

"Oh, oh, I understand!" Dongsik replies politely. "Do you have a maid?" he asks without thinking, immediately wondering if that was rude.

But Inwoo doesn't seem bothered.
"Maid? No, not anymore. I used to have one, but she did a sloppy job. I'm a bit... meticulous about things. I'm more satisfied when I clean everything myself."

"Ah, yes. Right. Everything looks perfectly clean, almost like a movie set. So you're doing much better without help, Seo!"

"Right? It hardly looks like a crime has ever been committed here, or what? No blood stains, no claw-marks. Not even a single rogue hair. I hope you don't smell the chlorine though," Inwoo smirks.

"I smell no chlorine, you did a great job!" He gives two thumbs-ups and a big smile.

Of course he's joking, thinks Dongsik. The humor is dark and dry, but he likes that he's in on the joke.

"Sit down," Inwoo commands, nodding toward the chairs by the kitchen counter.

Dongsik sits down promptly. He looks at the back of Inwoo's head, who is standing with his back to him. He realizes that Inwoo is filling up two wine glasses.

He turns and hands Dongsik one of the glasses.

Red wine. Dongsik isn't a fan, but he just says thanks and accepts the glass.

Dongsik is many things, but rude isn't one of them. He carefully sips the red liquid, and to his dismay, it tastes terrible, as always. Is this what red wine is supposed to taste like?

He hasn't drunk much wine in his life. Dongsik isn't blessed with a poker face, so he can't help but look a little disgusted, and to his surprise, that gets a laugh out of Inwoo.

Inwoo hasn't graced him with a single heartfelt smile all day, so Dongsik feels his heart skip a beat when he finally laughs.

"You didn't really like it, did you?" Inwoo asks, but answers his own question before Dongsik can, "No, it's not the best I've tasted. It's almost like someone put arsenic trioxide in it." Despite saying this, Inwoo keeps sipping the wine.

"Huh? P-put what in it?"

"Arsenic. It's a kind of poison, a white powder," Inwoo states between sips.

Aha, of course. Hearing it from Inwoo, it rings a bell. Dongsik's a big fan of true crime and must've heard it there before. It's a weird thing to say, but Dongsik is slowly learning to appreciate Inwoo's humor.

"But relax, I'm not going to poison you."
With leisurely strides, Inwoo moves to his side of the counter, gazing down at him. "Not yet, anyway," he adds, suddenly very serious.

Dongsik can't help but give him a worried look. Poison him? Inwoo's serious face shifts into a big grin, and he laughs heartily.

"I'm just kidding! You should have seen the expression on your face! I just have to apologize, I have a terrible sense of humor. But enough with the fun and games, lose your clothes. Now."

Dongsik doesn't know what's worse: the squeaky moan that escapes his mouth, or the fact that he's so startled he knocks over his almost-full wine glass.

The red drink spills all over the kitchen counter and Dongsik just wants to run out the door and never look back.

He's spilled red wine on his boss's spotless kitchen. He's already mentally drafting his resignation letter.

And his obituary.

Inwoo looks at the spill, then up at him with a raised eyebrow, and picks up the overturned glass.

Dongsik opens his mouth, hoping for something other than squeaky moans to come out, but nothing remotely sensible appears.

Inwoo turns around, and grabs a paper towel from a drawer. He tears off a good portion and places it over the wine spill.

"Oh-oh, my god, I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to. I'll clean it up!" Dongsik finally regains his ability to speak, and reaches for the paper in Inwoo's hand.

"Relax, it's no big deal. This wine doesn't even taste good," Inwoo is dodging his outstretched hands. He tosses the paper in the trash, grabs more towels, sprays some cleaner on the counter, and wipes away the rest of the wine.

Luckily, the countertop isn't light-colored, so no stains remain. Now that it's cleaned up, it looks like wine was never spilled there at all.

"I'm so sorry. What I said sounded very... inappropriate," Inwoo says. Not at all sounding apologetic.

"I just meant I'd like you to try on the suit that was tailored for you. If there's anything you're not happy with, we can check it right away and I can take it back to the tailor tomorrow. That way we won't have to go back and forth, and you can wear the suit to work as soon as possible."

Dongsik had completely forgotten about the suit, how could he forget the very reason he's in Inwoo's apartment on a Friday night in the first place?

"Y-yes, of course, I'll try it on... I'd like to put it on right away."

Inwoo starts walking further into the apartment and Dongsik follows like an obedient dog.

Inwoo opens the bedroom door, steps inside, and grabs the suit hanging on the wardrobe door. Dongsik doesn't dare follow, but he notices the king-sized bed, neatly made, incredibly inviting.

All he wants to do right now is lie down there. Preferably with Inwoo next to him. Or under him. Or on top of him? But he suppresses that desire.

He can't act like a horny teenager!

Inwoo hands him the suit, still packed in a black suit bag, completely concealed. But Dongsik already knows it's dark blue. His hands tremble as he accepts it.

"You can change in the bathroom," Inwoo suggests.

Dongsik nods eagerly, but realizes he doesn't even know where the bathroom is. Inwoo seems to realize too. He gently grabs Dongsik's shoulders, pulls him into the bedroom, and turns him toward the door on the right. "Just in here. The door right in front of you, you can't miss it."  

Dongsik, blushing like crazy due to the physical contact, almost runs into the bathroom.

This room is no exception, it's clean and tidy. He eyes the large glass-enclosed shower and thinks about the shower curtain back home.

Don't compare apartments, he tells himself. It makes sense Inwoo's is nicer, he probably earns what Dongsik makes in six months, in a single month. Or longer.

He closes the door behind him and locks it on reflex. Hanging the suit bag on a hook, he grabs the zipper and thinks it's better to get out of his clothes before pulling out his brand-new suit.

He unbuttons and unzips his pants, takes them off, folds them as neatly as he can, and sets them on the counter.

His eyes wander to a shelf next to the bathroom mirror, where a dozen or so products sit, lined up in neat rows, coordinated by color and size, like a store display.

Curious, he moves closer to read the labels: creams, day and night, sunscreen, serums, toners, and a bunch of things he knows nothing about. Clearly, Inwoo takes care of his skin, and it shows.

He spots a couple of perfume bottles and feels a strong urge to open and smell them, but manages to curb it. There's no chance in hell he won't drop it, so he doesn't dare touch anything.

He starts unbuttoning his shirt, and when he's on the last button, he realizes, of course, he has to keep the shirt on while trying on the suit.

"Aiish," he mutters and buttons it back up. Now Inwoo is probably wondering why he's taking so long. He tries to hurry, which only makes him slower.

Oh my god, can't he just calm the fuck down and relax? He doesn't understand why he always has to stress so much.

With his shirt seemingly buttoned all the way up again, Dongsik takes out the suit and puts on the pants first. They fit perfectly. Then he puts on the jacket, unsure if he should leave it open or buttoned. He decides to button it.

Now what?
Should he just announce loudly from inside the bathroom that it fits perfectly? Or step out and do a little twirl for Inwoo?

Inwoo invited him over to see the suit on him, right? And now Dongsik is overthinking again. If he had a penny for every time he overthought something, he could probably afford a dozen of Inwoo's apartments.

He looks in the mirror and can't help but smile. He actually looks pretty good. Even though it feels awkward, he decides to show Inwoo. He grabs the doorknob, but the door won't open. He realizes he actually locked it and quickly unlocks it.

It's a shock to his system to see Inwoo sitting right there, on the bed. He's sitting on the edge, seemingly scrolling on his phone. He lifts his gaze to meet Dongsik's.

Dongsik tries to right his posture. He feels shy and awkward, but not because he doesn't like the suit. In fact it's the best suit he's ever worn.

He just finds the whole situation... exposing. Like his vulnerability is on display.

"Ah, that's a good suit," Inwoo gets up from the bed. He takes long strides towards Dongsik, stopping right in front of him. He strokes the lapels of the jacket down his upper chest with both hands, before firmly adjusting it.

"It fits you like a glove. What do you think?" he asks expectantly.

There's something in Inwoo's gaze. Dongsik can't put his finger on it, but it's... intense? And hopeful almost?

Is Inwoo... making a move on him?!

Even though he's awkward, he likes it. Likes that Inwoo studies him so closely.

"Th-that's really, uhm, it's like you said... fits like a glove. I-I, erm, I think it fits really well," he stammers and Inwoo just keeps looking at him. His head a little tilted, hands still lingering, playing with the lapels.

Suddenly Inwoo's gaze falls to Dongsik's chest and the firm pressure of his hands leaves his body. Inwoo's fingers flutter down his shirt, and Dongsik has to hold his breath and will himself not to moan.

His eyes close of their own accord, and he thinks he sways a little. 

Inwoo is unbuttoning his shirt! Oh my god!

"There you go, one of the buttons was undone," Inwoo points out, patting Dongsik on the shoulder. They're still standing close, toe to toe.

"Oh thank you," is all he can say, taking a step back. They're standing way too close and he's having trouble thinking.

And he can't think like that! Inwoo has done so much for him. He has a great need to thank him for both the suit and for saving him from Kong.

He has to show his gratitude even though Inwoo insists otherwise.

He can buy him flowers, right? But maybe that's a bit silly? Dongsik doesn't know if Inwoo likes flowers, he hasn't seen any flowers, or plants for that matter, in his apartment.

He's interested in skin care, a cream maybe? No, that's definitely silly, Dongsik has no idea which brands are good.

A dinner then? Can he invite him to dinner? Or treat him to eating out? That's possible! Dongsik remembers that it's over two weeks until he gets paid and that his bank account is a ghost town. But he eats for free at his father's restaurant, and can take him there!

"Hello?"

Dongsik stops his train of thought when he hears Inwoo's voice.

"What? Sorry Seo, I was just getting carried away again. What did you say?"

"Okay. No, I just said you should put on your shoes and see how everything looks together."

"Yes, of course! Yes, I will," Dongsik shuffles out of the bedroom and toward the hallway.

He puts on his dress shoes and checks how he looks in the full-length mirror. The suit looks so good, he wants to do a little victory dance, but refrains.

Inwoo has followed him out into the hallway and nods encouragingly.

"Perfect. Absolutely perfect," he says.

Dongsik blushes like he always does around him. Of course he means the suit. Still...

"Uhm, Seo?"

Inwoo doesn't answer, just looks at him and nods briefly.

"I have to thank you for the suit. And you have to let me do it. It's not much but.. I'd like to take you out to eat. Uhm, just like to... To thank you, I mean. Both for the thing with Kong, and for the suit of course!"

"Take me out... to eat?" Inwoo repeats, as if he hasn't heard of the phenomenon before and Dongsik regrets it. It might have been a stupid suggestion.

Of course his boss wouldn't agree to that.

"E-eh, y-yeah, only if you don't think it'll be, uh, weird or something! My dad owns a restaurant that serves really good food, I think you would like it," Dongsik bites his tongue.

Now that he hears the suggestion out loud it just sounds dumber and dumber.

Inwoo doesn't answer for what feels like an eternity. Eternity lasts for ten seconds.

"That's so incredibly kind of you, Dongsik. I'd like that."

Chapter Text

Saturday, April 20, 2019

DONGSIK

"It's just so unusual that you're the one obsessing over someone, and not me," Bo-kyung helps herself to another handful of seaweed snacks, the kind she always brings when she sleeps over at his place.

The fact that they're both over thirty and have regular sleepovers had, at one point, made his father suspicious. Dongsik had to remind him that he had never been romantically interested in woman, and that Bo-kyung didn't like him that way either.

Dongsik doesn't have many close friends, to be honest, only Bo-kyung. He's not one to go out and party; he prefers watching movies to just about anything else. Sleepovers with movies and snacks have simply become a natural part of their routine.

Dongsik and Bo-kyung can stay up until 3 am, watching horror movies, chatting away, or being antisocial on their respective phones.

They're two lonely souls who found each other, and he's eternally grateful for that.

"I don't really obsess," he replies, somewhat offended, yet calling himself a liar mentally.

They've both seen the movie they've put on before, it's some kind of thriller comedy. Dongsik doesn't immerse himself in the film.

"You can't neglect me when you get together, and I hope I can join you guys on movie nights like this," Bo-kyung whines and he nudges her shoulder lightly with his foot.

They're sitting at the opposite ends of his couch, Dongsik half sitting, half lying down. "You won't be neglected, you always come first! And I don't even know if he likes me back!"

"I hope so. But it seems like he's interested in you. And you're definitely interested in him!"

Dongsik can't help but smile at her statement, and hope she's right. The looks Inwoo has been sending his way lately... it can't just be collegial. They must at least be friendly.

Maybe Inwoo just wants to be friends? On the other hand, there's undeniably some kind of flirting going on.

People don't usually look at their friends like that. Right?

Lost in his own thoughts, Dongsik notices that Bo-kyung has pulled out her phone and is swiping through Tinder. He straightens up from his slouched position and sits down next to her, peering at the screen with interest.

"I'm going to look for him on Tinder," she says, smiling.

An involuntary, excited squeal erupts from Dongsik, who looks around the room fearfully, as if expecting Inwoo to suddenly materialize and catch them in the act.

"But what if you actually find him there? Are you going to match with him?"

Bo-kyung keeps swiping and quickly shakes her head. "No, no, of course not! But if I find his profile, we can see whether he likes both women and men, or just one. We don't even know that right now."

She swipes and swipes, and Dongsik, who isn't on Tinder himself, always finds it weirdly entertaining to look at all the bizarre profiles that pop up.

"Oh, he's handsome! Look!" Bo-kyung points at the profile of a man who's exactly her type.

"Well, he's quite decent," he says, not sounding very convinced.

He can't really focus. He just can't picture Inwoo on Tinder. What he can imagine is Inwoo judging people who are on dating apps. Even though he has no reason to assume.

"This one only has one picture, and it's of two men. Want to bet he's the less attractive one?" She keeps swiping for a while, before she shouts out, way too enthusiastically.

Dongsik feels a tug in his stomach. He leans in, already bracing himself to see Inwoo's fine face on the screen.

Which is why the disappointment hits even harder when he's met with the face of... Ji-Hun.

"Oh, for a second I thought this was Inwoo! I just saw the family name and workplace," Bo-kyung scrolls down the profile.

"That's Inwoo's brother. He works at Daehan Securities too. They're... not exactly close. I'm not sure why. Inwoo's pretty private and hasn't said much about it."

'Looking for someone to have fun with,' the profile reads, along with that he's interested in both women and men.

"Hm, not much of a family resemblance, I think?" Bo-kyung wrinkles her nose.

No. Absolutely not. Inwoo is a hundred times nicer and sweeter, Dongsik thinks, but out loud he says, "Nah, and this guy's really nasty. I came across him on Facebook once, he was smiling while posing with dead animals and stuff. Probably a psychopath."

She throws him a look. Unimpressed, displeased. "Aha, he's one of those guys. Yeah, no thanks! I'm definitely not matching with him," she presses the cross and sits there swiping a little longer.

They never find Inwoo.


Wednesday, April 24, 2019

DONGSIK

How quickly can someone fall for another person?

Dongsik has known about Inwoo for a long time. He's always found him very attractive, the kind of pretty that makes you think; Yeah, too sexy. He'd never even look in my direction. Move on.

But it's not just his looks. There's something about his personality, his mannerism. It's almost fascinating. And now that Dongsik sees him every day, actually talks to him? It's getting harder to deny the feelings he has for him. To pretend he's not head over heels.

He catches himself fixating and daydreaming. There's something about Inwoo that has captivated him.

Like Inwoo has some kind of strange, magnetic power over him. Like he could suggest the strangest things and Dongsik would have agreed to carry them out, without a single thought spared for the consequences. "Hey, want to rob a bank?" "Sure, what time?"

He's like a moth being drawn to the flame, unable to stay away even though he knows he should.

Love might make you blind, but clearly, it also makes you stupid.

Dongsik knows he has to be careful not to get too obsessed. He has no idea how to deal with this because the feeling is so intense. And wonderful.

Inwoo is now his direct superior at work. Which makes the whole thing even more wrong. Taboo and absolutely not allowed.

If anyone found out, Dongsik could be transferred to another department. Inwoo could lose his role as team leader, and with it, his personnel responsibility.

There are a lot of factors at play. A long list of potential consequences.

Which only makes it ten times more thrilling.


Thursday, May 16, 2019

INWOO

When Dongsik had asked him out to dinner, he had to mentally pinch his arm to keep from laughing out loud. Common sense had rebelled hard when Dongsik had made the suggestion.

It wasn't just a regular dinner, no. It was a dinner at Dongsik's father's restaurant. So incredibly idiotic.

But Inwoo didn't really have a choice. He needed to win Dongsik's favor even more.

Come to think of it, this fits his plan perfectly; he wants to hang out with Dongsik outside of work.

He had seen how excited Dongsik got when he said yes. Standing there, trying so hard not to blush. What a fucking loser.

Inwoo had deliberately dragged out the moment before answering. Just to torment him a little longer.

Dongsik is too kind for his own good. Inwoo had watched him standing there, racking his overheated brain for a way to thank him until his face was red. It was almost a little scary how easy it was to read the timid little bitch.

He looked ridiculously relieved when Inwoo accepted the invitation, and Dongsik stammered out that maybe they could eat together the next week. Inwoo said he needed to check his schedule, and didn’t want to give Dongsik a clear answer right away.

He wanted to torture him a little. Give him some hope, then take it away.

Dongsik had stood in his new suit, looking like a kid who just got his heart's desire for Christmas. So easy to make him happy. Even easier to freak him out. Inwoo knew exactly what he was doing when they were in the kitchen and he had ordered Dongsik to 'lose the clothes'.

Inwoo is almost 100% sure by now that Dongsik has a crush on him.

So gullible, the perfect little victim, but also... somehow a very attractive man in the most absurd way.

Inwoo has to admit, the suit looked damn good on him. In some alternate universe, maybe Inwoo would have liked him romantically.

But Inwoo isn't capable of such feelings. He has never been in love, not even close.

And he sure as hell isn't about to start now.

He'd been in a couple of short-term relationships in the past, if you could call them that. Mostly, they were just casual sex, nothing deeper. Sex could be nice, sure, but it wasn't a necessity for him.

Besides, Inwoo always had to throw his so-called 'lover' out after he had ejaculated. He couldn't stand having anyone sleep next to him. The second they turned in bed, he'd be wide awake, zero chance of relaxing.

And the hugging? The aftercare? The soft little whispers people expected after sex? Out of the question. 

Despite how coldly he treated his sex partners, most of them kept coming back for more, and Inwoo knew exactly why. It wasn't out of affection; it was purely selfish. He was obsessively focused on making sure they climaxed. More invested in their orgasms than his own.

He'd be the first to admit that was selfish too. It was all about boosting his own self-esteem, not some noble care for their pleasure.

Men are incredibly simple creatures. Ridiculously easy to satisfy. Most of them come quickly, with little to no effort.

Women, on the other hand, required more patience and technique. But once Inwoo cracked the code, it turned out to be surprisingly easy too.

He felt a rush of control and power lying between their legs, or with them beneath him, begging for more. They were easy to please.

It's been a long time since he's had someone in his bed, and he doesn't feel the need.

Above all, he has to keep his eyes on the prize: Dongsik.

Stupid, beautiful, fluffy mop-haired bitch-ass Dongsik.

Imagine Dongsik paying the price of his gullibility with his life.

Inwoo can't help but smile at how beautifully everything fits together. His well-designed mask has become a part of him by now. He plays his role like a professional actor, even when Dongsik does something that makes him want to lose it.

Like when Dongsik spilled wine on the kitchen counter.

He had had a maddening desire to smash the empty wine glass and stab Dongsik in that fragile throat with it. Wanted to see his blood spurt out and mix with the wine.

He fantasized about what it would be like to see Dongsik's eyes glazed over with terror and death, and the belated realization of Inwoo's deception.

He wanted to grab his hair, yank him back, and crush his face into the kitchen counter, repeatedly, until his face was rearranged and unrecognizable. Until his face was a lump of flesh without contours.

It amazed him that he hadn't killed Dongsik when they'd been alone in his apartment. He'd been tempted so many times that he felt almost impressed by his own restraint.

When Dongsik accepted the suit and headed for the bathroom, all Inwoo could focus on was his lean, long neck. A single, well-calculated blow with a blunt object would have done the trick. Hit the right spot and the skull would separate from the cervical vertebrae. If he had hit Dongsik there, the idiot wouldn't even have realized what had happened.

But it can't happen that quickly.

In his fantasies it always played out slower, longer... Preferably with some torture mixed in.

He took great pleasure in the idea of killing him in the most brutal ways. He wanted to tie him up and stab him with every knife he owned. Pour boiling water over his body, hear him scream in pain. Pour acid down his throat. Maybe burn him from the inside using poison?

Use all kinds of tools on his body, pierce his ears with a screwdriver, and twist it around. Sit on top of him and strangle him, slowly but surely.


Realistically and unfortunately, Inwoo can't kill him in a brutal way. After all, it has to look like a suicide, and it has to be believable. So he's left with the classics: give Dongsik pills, so he overdosed, or maybe hanging. Something pathetic and tragic enough to sell the story.

Not many people slit their own throat with a shattered wine glass in their boss's apartment. Or pour acid down their own throat.

It's depressing that you can't kill someone multiple times.

He knows he can't torture him, knows it can't be messy, but that doesn't stop the fantasies. He zones out in meetings, daydreaming about all the ways he could ruin him.

That fucking man is all he can think about. But that's how it has to be.

After all, Dongsik is Inwoo's sweet little chew toy. Just begging to be torn to shreds.


*


It's been five weeks since Dongsik was at his place.

The extra workload has taken a toll, but Inwoo likes being busy.

One thing he could've done without, though, was the two-day long team leadership seminar he had to attend in another city. It had been excruciatingly boring, hours of sitting with other team leaders pretending to be passionate about corporate values and synergy.

Worse were the ones who offered advice, little nuggets of wisdom for the new guy. As if Inwoo had asked.

Seeing Dongsik in the suit the following Monday made Inwoo feel good. Like he had some kind of power over him. Like Dongsik belonged to him. Like Inwoo owned him.

Without saying a word, Inwoo had pulled him aside when they passed each other, Dongsik on his way to the cafeteria, Inwoo heading to a meeting. Inwoo had smiled. Watched as Dongsik was drawn toward him like he was tugged by an invisible thread.

He'd praised him, told him he looked incredibly good in that new suit. And he'd made sure to fondle Dongsik with his eyes, his gaze caressing every inch of his body while colleagues walked by.

As always, Dongsik had struggled to form a single coherent sentence. His eyes had flickered, but at the same time he looked so blissfully flustered.

It had been the highlight of Inwoo's day, seeing him like that.

Cementing this facade is easy, Dongsik soaks up every compliment Inwoo throws at him like a sponge.

The first week after Dongsik had been at his place, Inwoo had to apologize again and again. Always with the same excuse: he just hadn't had the opportunity to meet up after work.

They'd even made tentative plans to grab dinner the following Wednesday, but of course, Inwoo had to postpone that too.

He told Dongsik he'd check his schedule and get back to him. And that, at least, was the truth. Things came up. Meetings. Unexpected obligations. A never-ending stream of after-hours nonsense.

Some evenings, he also met with acquaintances; he could hardly call them friends. Inwoo doesn't have friends. But reputation is everything, and he has to be seen in the right places, with the right people, from time to time.

No one could ever find out he's a loner. That kind of thing makes you stand out. And Inwoo can't afford to stand out.

Dongsik had looked tragically disappointed. But he didn't ask again, not after the fourth time in a row.

He's a naive fool, but even he seems to understand now: whether they see each other outside of work or not, it's up to Inwoo.

Not that Dongsik has been ignored. Of course not. Inwoo still sees him, talks to him. Every single workday for the past five weeks.

They've either bumped into each other in the hallways and struck up a conversation, or seen each other during department meetings.

Otherwise, Inwoo watches him through the glass walls, Dongsik fetching coffee, or running around working his sweet little ass off to do his best and outperform the rest.

One time, Inwoo just happened to go grab a coffee from the break-room at the exact same time as Dongsik. He'd pointed out, casually, that Dongsik looked much happier now than when they first had a proper conversation.

Dongsik, like the perfect idiot he is, had stammered something about how it was all thanks to Inwoo.

Stupid fucking bitch.

Another day, Inwoo had spotted Dongsik sitting with a colleague in the cafeteria, and promptly sat down with them, without asking. Yu-Jin, who Inwoo was actually supposed to eat with, had ended up joining them, too.

Dongsik had turned strawberry red every time Inwoo so much as looked in his direction.

Inwoo, ever the benevolent puppeteer, had been careful to include him in the conversation. Made him feel seen. Valued and special. Which had made Dongsik relaxed. The moment he let his guard down, he started talking way too much. Rambling, laughing nervously, maybe trying to impress. Like a puppy learning new tricks. 

Inwoo had also noticed how Dongsik kept sneaking glances at him furtively every time Yu-Jin said something that made Inwoo laugh. Dongsik had almost looked jealous. It was hysterical.

Yu-Jin could be funny, sure, but Inwoo turned it into a performance. A little extra show, just to make him jealous.

One day, Inwoo had even run into Dongsik in the locker room at the gym at work. Dongsik had just finished working out. Inwoo had just arrived. Perfectly mistimed. He'd never seen Dongsik there before.

Dongsik, poor thing, had looked so expectant. Like he'd imagined some kind of cinematic, sweat-drenched bonding moment. Then the disappointment hit. Probably realized they wouldn't be training together. No locker room eye contact. No subtle glances in the mirror. No casual towel slip.

Tragic.

Inwoo wouldn't have minded bashing his skull in with a kettlebell. But alas, that would have to stay in the fantasy vault.

Still, the thought had made him so excited, he'd had one of the best workouts of his life. Broke a couple of personal records with that motivation in mind. 

Amazing what a little rage and repressed murder-lust can do for your form.


DONGSIK

He's in deep shit.

Dongsik isn't sure exactly when it happened, but he thinks it was about a week ago, he'd heard a love song on the radio and caught himself daydreaming about Inwoo.

What started as an innocent little attraction has unfortunately mutated into a full-on crazy crush. Not that it was ever really innocent. He doesn't know if it was ever as small or harmless as he tried to convince himself it was.

It doesn't happen often. But when Dongsik falls, he falls hard, and completely flat on his face. And he isn't graceful about it.

He's only been in love once before. Hopelessly in love with someone he studied with. A guy who never gave him a chance. 

His mannerism reminds him a bit of Inwoo now that he thinks about it. A little too pretty, a little too sleazy, and way too cocky. He'd even told Dongsik, back then, that he couldn't be with someone who was so unsure of himself.

Ouch.

...Though honestly? Hopelessly in love might be a stretch. Dongsik can't even remember the guy's name anymore.

The funny thing about being a person who doesn't fall in love easily, and who, at thirty-four, has exactly zero serious relationships under his belt, is that Dongsik sometimes catches himself acting a little... creepy.

He's been going to the gym at work for almost five weeks straight, ever since Jeong-A mentioned seeing Inwoo training there now and then.

The same day she said that, Dongsik went out and bought new workout clothes, because the ones he already had were begging to be thrown in the trash.

He wanted to look like someone who took training seriously. He wanted to feel good.

But in all those weeks, he's only seen Inwoo there once. And even then, Dongsik had already finished his session.

He had been so tempted to stay, to just be near him. But he'd already showered. He was dressed. It would've looked weird to start sweating all over again. Horrible timing.

Besides, what did he think was going to happen?

That they'd train side by side? That Inwoo would watch him struggle with the weights, see that he was out of breath and out of shape? See Dongsik in his workout gear and fall in love?

God, he is so incredibly lost and stupid.

Over the past few weeks, Dongsik has also occasionally found himself writing messages to Inwoo that he never sends. He types them out, and then deletes them.

He has no idea if he's imagining things or not, but there has to be something behind the way Inwoo looks at him. The tone of his voice. It feels... like more than just professionalism.

Or maybe Dongsik is delusional. Probably.

Why would Inwoo like someone like him? When he could have literally anyone?

But still.

Sometimes it really does feel like Inwoo is... Flirting with him? It's most likely just his manner, the kind of personality he has. Some people are just naturally charming, and Inwoo is one of them.

Dongsik had run into him in the breakroom, he'd gone to get coffee and nearly crashed into Inwoo on his way out. Luckily, he'd managed not to spill, either on himself or Inwoo.

Inwoo had stopped him. Lightly touched his arm and asked how his weekend had been.

Dongsik, like a smitten puppy, had thought about that brief touch for the rest of the day.

Another time, Inwoo had sat down with him and Mi-Joo at lunch in the cafeteria. Yu-Jin had joined them too. Dongsik couldn't help but notice the way she made Inwoo laugh.

They worked closely together, so of course there had been rumors. That they'd dated. But according to Jeong-A, who always knew the gossip, they'd both denied it.

Still, he had felt a slight sting of jealousy. He'd tried not to let it get to him.


Naturally, Dongsik thinks a lot about the dinner they still haven't had.

He knows Inwoo is a busy man, but the way dinner keeps getting postponed, again and again, doesn't exactly fill him with hope. In fact, it makes him unreasonably miserable.

It's entirely possible that Inwoo thinks the whole thing was a stupid, unnecessary idea but is too polite to say no outright.

It's been exactly 34 days since Dongsik first suggested it. After the fourth time he asked, he knew he had to back off. Told himself he wouldn't bring it up again unless Inwoo did first. He doesn't want to seem too eager.

And yet, it's striking how often Inwoo just happens to leave the office at the same time as him. Or how often they bump into each other in the building. Even on days when Inwoo is supposedly in back-to-back meetings all day; there he is. In the hallway, or by the elevator. Or near the coffee machine.

It's almost like fate keeps pushing them together.

Dongsik, like any man teetering on the brink of love, overanalyzes everything. He even involved Bo-kyung in this analysis.

Bo-kyung, who at this point must be one-sentence-about-Inwoo away from tearing her hair out at how lost Dongsik is. She hasn't said anything, yet, but even he's getting sick of himself and the eternal fixation now. This is exhausting.

She has to be the most patient best friend in the world.


Friday, May 17, 2019

DONGSIK

Dongsik has just exited work and said goodbye to Mi-Joo when he hears footsteps behind him.

He turns, and there his obsession is, in all his glory.

Inwoo looks at him and smiles, nodding briefly. Perfectly styled hair, flawless suit and tie.

Drop dead gorgeous.

"Oh, h-hi Seo!" Dongsik blurts.

He tries to sound casual and emotionally stable.

Fails.

Why would he suddenly become smooth and indifferent now?

"I'm so sorry again that dinner's been postponed so many times," Inwoo says, voice like velvet.

"Oh, don't... Don't even think about it!" Dongsik laughs, sounding mildly insane. "W-we'll just do it when you're ready! Erm. I mean, when you have the time! The chance!"

Inwoo raises an eyebrow, amused. "How about Monday?"

He says it with an almost hungry look in his eyes.

A warm, embarrassing fireball of anticipation detonates in Dongsik's chest.

It's happening. It's actually happening.

Okay, try not to seem too happy. Keep calm. Breathe. Don't look like a lovesick loser.

"Monday? O-oh. Yes. Yes! Monday's great! Monday is... erm, uh, Monday is perfect!"

Aaand... fail.

Inwoo smirks. He steps forward, puts a hand on Dongsik's shoulder. Dongsik stops breathing entirely.

"I just have to say it again..." Inwoo murmurs, soft and smooth, "You look really good in that suit."

He gives Dongsik's shoulder a light press before stepping back, already turning to leave. "I'm looking forward to Monday," he adds.

Dongsik remains rooted to the spot, stunned, happy, vibrating with giddy panic.

Chapter Text

Monday, May 20, 2019

DONGSIK

It's almost comical how slowly both the weekend and the workday have passed. Last night, he kept waking up, tossing and turning, his stomach fluttering like it was full of butterflies.

Too much excitement, too many thoughts, and no chance of sleeping them away.

Yesterday, he'd called his father to say he was bringing Inwoo to the restaurant. Jong-Cheol had sounded excited, immediately asking whether this was just friendly or something more.

Dongsik had insisted it was just a friendly gesture, that he simply wanted to thank Inwoo for the suit.

But as soon as he said it, he bit his tongue in frustration. He'd said too much, and now he had no choice but to mention the tailor-made suit. That, of course, led to even more questions from his father, until Dongsik, red-faced and squirming, was so uncomfortable and embarrassed that he nearly burst into tears.


Dongsik has put on the suit and his best tie. His hair isn't cooperating today, but when does it ever?

He tries to convince himself to calm the fuck down. He knows he shouldn't feel this intensely. Shouldn't let it take up so much space in his head and heart. But his heart isn't listening.

He tells himself not to overthink it. This is a friendly dinner. A 'thank you for the suit'.

Purely platonic, nothing strange about it.

So why does he have this feeling in his stomach? Why does it feel like he’s going on a date with Inwoo?


Dongsik is standing in the parking garage, trembling with anticipation. He looks around nervously. He has been in Inwoo's car before, but he's still afraid someone might see them together.

He can't go from former victim of bullying to guy dating the boss within weeks. There must be a limit to how many rumors and sideways glances he can endure.

Inwoo steps out of the elevator. He is alone. They are completely alone in the parking garage and will soon get into his car.

Oh no. Not these thoughts again. Not now.

Dongsik has seen videos of just this, videos that end with couples having sex in the backseat of a car. It has actually been one of his fantasies: car sex with Inwoo. A frenzy of limbs in the backseat, on the soft, sexy leather.

He has thought about it while touching himself, lying in bed at night.

Ashamed and frustrated by his own thoughts, Dongsik doesn't hesitate wrapping his arms around Inwoo.

This is definitely not how they usually greet each other. Dongsik considers himself lucky if he gets a toothy smile from him. Most of the time, Inwoo just nods. They don't do hugs.

But Dongsik is overexcited, and he is ashamed of his own thoughts. At the same time, he's way too happy to see Inwoo after not seeing him since Friday. He's been looking forward to this day for so long that his brain is basically short-circuiting now.

Inwoo stiffens in his arms. Dongsik quickly lets go and takes a few steps back, giving him plenty of space, and silently wondering if he just made things awkward for the next decade.

"Uh! I-I'm so sorry, I-I didn't mean to... Or, uh, I-I didn't think twice. I'm so sorry if I crossed your boundaries!" Dongsik curses himself. But it had felt so right and natural to put his arms around him.

Without reacting, Inwoo looks right through him. He doesn't say a word, simply strides toward his car. Dongsik stands still, suddenly afraid to follow.

Inwoo looks really angry for a few seconds before meeting Dongsik's eyes. "Come on. You don't have to apologize, it's just... you surprised me, that's all. Besides, I'm not a big fan of physical contact," his smile seems forced.

Despite being told not to, Dongsik apologizes again as they both get into the car.

This is so confusing. Not a fan of physical contact?

On Friday, Inwoo had willingly touched his shoulder. On Friday, Inwoo had said he was looking forward to Monday, praised him for looking good in the suit while devouring him with his eyes.

Today, it looks like he would prefer a colonoscopy over being near him.

Dongsik is getting dizzy from all the mixed signals; one second they're flirting, the next Inwoo is cold and dismissive.

He knows there's a good chance Inwoo is reserved by nature, and that he needs to stay professional. But it's frustrating.

Ironically, there's something alluring about his distant personality, something that only draws Dongsik in further.

On top of that, Dongsik is more insecure than most, which doesn't exactly help his overthinking. And judging by Inwoo's body language right now, he knows he should dial back the friendliness.

No hugging, no putting your foot in your mouth and saying something weird. He must wait and see how Inwoo behaves when they're at the restaurant, and take it from there.


INWOO

He stares at the sign above the door they're about to enter.

'Mr Yook - Meat Republic'

There's something familiar about the restaurant. Inwoo thinks he's jogged past this place before but never actually eaten here.

"Yeah, so here we are. Erm, I hope you're hungry!" Dongsik awkwardly holds the door open for him. Inwoo just nods and steps inside.

The restaurant is quite large. It smells good, he can't help but acknowledge that. He glances at Dongsik, who's followed him through the door.

Dongsik is smiling brightly, waving at someone behind Inwoo. Curious, he turns to see who the lucky recipient of that smile is.

An older man wearing an apron approaches them. It must be Mr. Yook himself, the chef and the boss. Dongsik's father.

Congratulations on having created such a pitiful and insignificant son, Inwoo thinks, holding out his hand in a gesture of common courtesy, only to be pulled into an embrace instead.

What the fuck is wrong with this family? Are they touch-starved?

Standing stiffly, Inwoo pats the man's back slowly with one hand in a 'there, there' gesture and carefully twists free from the unwanted embrace.

Dongsik looks like he wants to die of shame.

Relax, Dongsik. You're going to die soon enough. Not from shame though.

The man in the apron grabs his hand enthusiastically.
"Welcome! Dongsik told me that you two were coming. It's a real pleasure to meet you! Dongsik is so lucky to have such a good manager, someone who takes such good care of his employees!"

Oh take care of Dongsik I will. And the pleasure will truly be mine.

"I'm his father, you probably figured that out," he chuckles. "My name is Yook Jong-Cheol. I own this place with my wife, Na In-Hye. Now, I really hope you're hungry!"

This motherfucker is anything but concise.

So much unnecessary chatter. Should he add Mr. Yook to his growing list of potential victims?

Putting on his absolute friendliest smile, Inwoo shakes the man's hand. "Seo Inwoo, sir. Nice to meet you. It smells absolutely lovely in here, I'm really looking forward to the meal," he's disgusted by how sweet his own voice sounds, but hey, it works like a charm.

Jong-Cheol smiles back and finally lets go of his hand. He turns to his son.

"Okay, what do you want today?" he looks back at Inwoo. "We've got plenty to choose from, but Dongsik's favorite is our bibimbap with crispy fried tofu, rice, and of course, lots of ginger kimchi."

A tofu dish? A vegetarian dish at a place with 'meat' in its name? Sure. Because that makes perfect sense.

Inwoo fights the urge to bark out a laugh of derision. Instead, he keeps it together and flashes an appreciative smile at the eager man, just to show he’s not actually hating the idea.

"That sounds delicious. I have to try it if it's Dongsik's favorite. It must be amazing, right?" Inwoo watches with quiet satisfaction as Dongsik blushes and stammers that he wants the same dish.

Jong-Cheol shoots his son a silly look, and a petulant frown passes over Dongsik's face in response.

Dongsik is surprisingly cute when he's annoyed.

Oh fuck.
Jong-Cheol probably thinks this is a date. How incredibly unappealing.

"I'll start on your food, and my dear wife will come out with something for you to drink right away. What do you want? Beer?"

Inwoo doesn't bother paying attention to Dongsik, and he's quicker to answer anyway.
"I'll just have water, sir. I'm driving."

"A responsible man!" Jong-Cheol says loudly with a big grin, before disappearing into the kitchen after hearing that Dongsik wants water too.

Oh, just you wait, Inwoo thinks. This responsible man will kill your beloved son. This responsible man will watch the life drain from his pretty eyes, and piss on his grave once he's dead and buried.

Dongsik stands there, bewildered, raising his hand towards the tables. "Uhm, where do you, er, want to sit? Sir?"

Without answering, Inwoo just walks toward a window table with two chairs. It's small and intimate, but the alternatives are either comically tiny or absurdly large. The restaurant is busy. Business must be good.

Inwoo realizes he may have been too hard on Dongsik today and decides he should be softer. He briefly considers pulling out the chair for him, but figures Dongsik would probably die of cardiac arrest from the shock. And, well... death by courtesy? A bit excessive. 

Instead, he sits in the chair facing the exit.

Dongsik sits across from him, the blush has faded from his cheeks and he almost looks... sad? Or defeated. Maybe he's replaying how cold Inwoo was when he hugged him?

I'll make amends, Inwoo thinks, make Dongsik forget about that little slip-up. He figures it won't take long to make him happy. How quickly can Inwoo turn him into a jittery little mess again?

"Dongsiiik," he says his name sugar-sweetly, trying to pronounce it as softly as possible. Dongsik jumps in his chair and the blush flows back into his cheeks.

Flawless execution, predictable results. Like always.

"Y-yes, Seo? Sir?" he answers, looking at him with wide expectant eyes.

Wow, Dongsik jumps at his own name like it's a surprise party. How is this even human behavior?

"Oh, please. You don't have to call me Seo or sir. Just call me Inwoo. Don't you think we're past all that formality? I mean, I definitely do," he smiles at Dongsik as he casually unbuttons the single button on his suit jacket, settling deeper into the chair with effortless ease.

Dongsik's eyes follow the motion like he's hypnotized. His mouth slightly open, as if his brain forgot to close it. He then looks down intently at the table.

"Yes, In-, uh, Inwoo, oh my god, of course I'll do that," Dongsik can't keep eye contact.

This is good, but Inwoo is ready to wrap him even tighter around his little finger.

"And no matter what, don't cut your hair," he says suddenly.

Dongsik looks up from the table in confusion. "E-excuse me? What? M-my hair?" he touches his hair, as if to double-check that it's still attached to his head.

"You have such... Nice hair. It suits you so well," Inwoo continues and, to his great joy, sees that Dongsik is smiling happily and somewhat disbelievingly, still blushing.

"Erm, really? Thank- ehm, thanks! You... erm, you are... You have..." Dongsik stares at him.

Is Dongsik trying to compliment him back?

"You are... You have-" Dongsik stammers.

Anytime now, Inwoo thinks and catches himself waiting for the continuation. He sends Dongsik an encouraging smile, as if he's anything but dangerous.

"You have very nice... hands. Erm!" Dongsik sputters, then looks like he regrets being alive.

Inwoo's having way too much fun with this.
"Yeah? My hands?" he puts his hands on the table so Dongsik can admire them.

Of course, Dongsik likes the hands that are basically signing his death warrant.

"Uhm, th-that came out really wrong! I don't mean to make you uncomfortable, sir! I mean Inwoo. I mean erm, you have nice hair too! I don't know why I started talking about hands! I meant hair! Uhm, I'm so sorry," Dongsik puts his face in his hands, Inwoo almost feels sorry for him.

Poor thing.

"I see, it's easy to mix up hair and hands," Inwoo says sarcastically, but with a good-natured smile, when Dongsik looks at him again. Dongsik offers a sheepish smile in return.

Now Inwoo has to deliver the coup de grace.

"You have very nice hands yourself," he confirms, and it's not even a lie. He's not blind. He makes sure to stare at Dongsik's hands, before meeting his gaze again.

Dongsik looks at him as if Inwoo has just asked him for said hand in marriage. He looks so wrecked with happiness, Inwoo briefly considers checking to see if the poor guy has come in his pants.

Inwoo suddenly notices the presence of a person standing right next to their table, and catches himself getting irritated.

After all, he is buttering up his little victim.

He turns his head with barely masked displeasure, a woman is standing there with a tray in her hands. She sets it down on the table; on it are two large glasses filled with ice and water. She must have overheard part of the conversation, because she smiles shyly, mostly to herself.

She extends her hand, and Inwoo gets up from the chair and grabs it. They bow briefly to each other.

Oh well, Dongsik's father already thinks they're on a date, so why wouldn't this woman jump on board? It must be Dongsik's mother, he thinks. But she's not.

"Hello, nice to meet you! I'm Dongsik's stepmother, Na In-Hye. We just have to thank you so much for helping him out of the horrible situation he was in! We've heard all about it!"

It looks like the woman is considering hugging him but fortunately decides against it. Inwoo can't bear any more physical contact today, unless it's him wrapping his hands around Dongsik's neck.

"Seo Inwoo. It's so nice to meet you. And I didn't really help him that much, Dongsik was brave enough to finally tell someone. He has a lot of courage," Inwoo makes sure his smile reaches his eyes.

If Dongsik hasn't already made a mess in his pants, it will for sure happen now.

"And so humble! We know what you did for him, and we're eternally grateful! We're making your order now but just let us know if there's anything else you want. It's on the house, of course."

Inwoo just nods at her, smiling, as if he's supposed to be grateful for not spending a few measly won on a tofu dish.


Giving Dongsik compliments has turned him into a chatterbox. He talks too much, it's like someone put money in a machine. Even the stuttering is gone.

A once-in-a-lifetime cosmic event.

Inwoo has learned that Dongsik has an older sister who also works here, but that she is on maternity leave. He tells Inwoo that he also considered working here, but that nothing came of it. Blah, blah, he chose to study. Blah, blah, Dongsik is interested in food, but also in stocks.

Dongsik has a stepbrother, but he doesn't see him as often as his sister. He talks warmly about both of them. He must really like his family, Inwoo thinks, and as usual can't relate to anything Dongsik says.

"I also have a stepbrother and an older sister," Inwoo says it mostly to stop listening to Dongsik who seemingly cannot get enough of his own voice.

But this information doesn't stop Dongsik from talking.

"Oh! You and Ji-Hun are stepbrothers? I didn't know that!" Dongsik takes a quick sip from his water glass.

"We are."

"Ah, so that explains- um," Dongsik stops himself.

"Explains what?"

"Um! No, well, you're quite different... Both in personality and appearance, uhh," Dongsik confesses and looks down at his water glass uncomfortably.

"Thanks Dongsik, that's the biggest compliment you can give me," he grins.

Not that the blush ever left Dongsik's face, but he's even redder now, if possible. Before either of them can say anything more, Inwoo's attention is drawn to the door when it opens.

A young woman steps in, she's tiny, probably around 160 cm and has long brown hair. She's wearing a police uniform. She seems deep in thought, but the moment she looks in Inwoo's direction, her face lights up with a huge smile. She raises her hand in greeting.

There is something vaguely familiar about her, but Inwoo can't place where he recognizes her from. He often forgets both faces and names because he can't care enough to remember them.
This has him at a disadvantage since he likes to be in control. He can't remember knowing anyone who works in the police.

When the woman starts moving towards their table, he remembers where he has seen her before. It's the woman in the picture Dongsik has at his desk. His best friend.

So Dongsik's best friend works in the police… that's the last thing Inwoo needs.

And what the fuck is she doing here now?

Dongsik follows Inwoo's eyes and jumps up from his chair when he sees her. They embrace each other as if they haven't seen each other in ages.

Inwoo feels a sharp stab in his chest. He wants Dongsik all to himself.

"What are you doing here?" Dongsik asks after the hug.

The woman looks at Inwoo, at Dongsik, and back at Inwoo again.

She's most likely waiting for Dongsik to make the introduction, but let's be real, his cardboard brain is working overtime just keeping him upright.

Since Dongsik appears to be having a full-on brain stroke, Inwoo takes the initiative, rises smoothly and gives the woman a brief, polite bow. She bows back and Dongsik slaps his forehead.

"Oh! My god, where are my manners? Uhm, Inwoo, this is Shim Bo-kyung, my best friend! Bo-kyung, this is my - erm, my boss Seo Inwoo."

The woman grabs Inwoo's outstretched hand and greets him. Her hand is so thin and small, Inwoo is sure he could break it without even trying.

"So incredibly nice to meet you!" she smiles, "I don't mean to disturb you, I'm just stopping by quickly to pick up the food I ordered. Had to get takeout today, I don't have the energy to lift a finger in the kitchen after work," she offers an apologetic smile, like she's worried she just interrupted something very private.

Did Dongsik invite his best friend here today because he doesn't dare be alone with him or something? Or to have a third person around to keep an eye on him?

But the surprise on Dongsik's face when he saw Bo-kyung had to have been genuine, Dongsik's an open book. Inwoo doesn't know Bo-kyung, but she also looks sincere.

Getting into her good books suddenly seems important. Getting into a policewoman's good books seems smart. She's definitely someone Dongsik shares a lot with, so he must have a good relationship with her too. Make a good first impression.

"You're not disturbing us, I'm just happy to meet someone who means so much to Dongsik. I hope you've got the time to join us and eat here?" Inwoo puts on his most charming smile.

Dongsik and Bo-kyung look at each other. Dongsik nods almost imperceptibly to his best friend and Bo-kyung looks back at Inwoo.

"Are you sure? Because I don't want to disturb you!"

"Extremely sure. It's not a disturbance at all. Please, allow me to find you a chair," Inwoo says, every word tailored to lower defenses.

But Bo-kyung just shakes her head. "That's incredibly nice of you! But that's ok, I'll just take this one," she grabs a chair that's standing by the unused table next to her and places the chair on the side of the table they're sitting at.

She hangs her jacket on the chair and places her bag on the table. "I'll just say I'll have the food here instead, and I'll be right back," she turns and walks towards the counter.

"Thank you so much for suggesting that, that's very kind of you!" Dongsik looks so genuinely grateful now that Inwoo should feel guilty, but he doesn't.

"But of course, she'll be eating anyway, it’s only fitting she does it with us," Inwoo finds himself compelled to smile back.

Bo-kyung returns soon after and sits down.

"We'll get the food any time now, they'll bring everything out to us at the same time," she takes off her police cap and turns to Inwoo.

"I heard from Jong-Cheol that you also ordered bibimbap with tofu. You're in for a treat, it's absolutely amazing! I tell myself every time to try something new, yet I keep coming back for this one."

"Once Bo-kyung finds a tofu dish she likes, she stays loyal to it. It has to be really crispy for her to enjoy it," Dongsik explains and Inwoo can't understand this great need for tofu that these two fools share.

"Yup. And believe me, as a vegetarian, I've come across an extremely large amount of tofu. Both good and bad!" Bo-kyung laughs.

Okay, so there we have the explanation. A fucking vegetarian. This is certainly not something Inwoo can relate to, voluntarily choosing to be a vegetarian just seems completely incomprehensible.

But he has to show his best side, he cannot risk showing displeasure. He must seem genuinely interested.

"Ah, so you're a vegetarian! Have you been one for a long time?" he asks, sensing that he cares so little about the answer that it's almost painful.

"Thanks for not asking me about my protein intake," Bo-kyung dramatically places a hand on her forehead. "There are far too many people who ask about it when they hear I'm a vegetarian. I get so tired of it! But yes, I've been a vegetarian for a while now, almost five years in fact. Almost as long as I've known Dongsik."

"You became one almost right after we met, right?" Dongsik asks.

The big vegetarian conversation is fortunately interrupted by In-Hye and Jong-Cheol standing by their table, setting down plates.

Inwoo can't lie, it both looks and smells very good.

In-Hye also puts a glass of what looks like Coke or Pepsi in front of Bo-kyung and says, "Enjoy! Hope it tastes good," before she and Jong-Cheol disappear again.

Inwoo picks up the chopsticks placed next to his plate and takes a bite. Dongsik and Bo-kyung do the same, and for a few seconds, complete silence settles over the table.

The food tastes better than expected. Inwoo hadn't thought he'd enjoy a dish like this, but he has to admit, he understands why Dongsik and Bo-kyung keep choosing it.

"Wow. This is really good," he says.

Bo-kyung nods eagerly. "Right? Why eat meat when you can eat things like this?"

Inwoo has to stop himself from rolling his eyes. Sure, it's good, but he's not crazy enough to give up meat over it. He's already bored out of his mind, so he mercifully changes the subject.

"So you've known each other for..?" he drags on the question and Dongsik says, "We've known each other for five years now."

"My god, you have to hear about how we met, it's a pretty sick story," Bo-kyung looks at Inwoo and Dongsik nods in agreement. "Haha, it's a bit of a crisis actually," he continues enthusiastically and smiles.

Dongsik is quite cute when he smiles. But he's probably even cuter when he's dead.

Besides, Inwoo's interest has been piqued. What could be so 'sick' and a 'crisis' in their eyes? Fighting over the last tofu package in the store or something?

"Really? Well, now you have to tell me!" Inwoo takes another bite of the food.

"Okay, picture this," Bo-kyung puts down her chopsticks, as if she really needs to concentrate.

"I had had a really long day at work, I'd worked overtime and all I wanted to do was get into my pajamas and get on the couch with a series on TV, but that's not how it went," she stops and looks at Dongsik, "Maybe you'd rather tell the story?"

Dongsik, who has just taken a big bite of his food, just shakes his head and swallows.

"No, you tell it better," he insists and Bo-kyung continues.

"Okay, so I just wanted to go home and relax. My colleague and I were in the car and out of nowhere I suddenly see a guy standing in the middle of the road. As if he just appeared out of thin air! I don't see him until it's too late. So I hear my colleague screaming next to me and I see Dongsik's terrified face. Of course I hit the brakes, but it's too late!" she takes a deliberate pause and Inwoo can't help but wait impatiently for the rest.

Hitting Dongsik with a car, that certainly sounds tempting.

"The next moment we see Dongsik soaring through the air, meters above the ground. I panic and think, oh my god I've gone and killed a man!" she yelps.

Inwoo has to bite his lip to keep from smiling at the thought of Dongsik flying through the air after being hit by a car.

"We both run out of the car and there lies poor Dongsik, completely motionless and I just scream and panic. But he opens his eyes, and he screams even louder than me, so I think he's seriously hurt! My colleague points to the ground, and I realize that I'm standing on Dongsik's hand, and that's why he's screaming like that!"

"That was almost worse than getting hit!" states Dongsik matter-of-factly.

"Poor guy! But Dongsik pushes himself up. He just sits there looking totally confused, can you believe it! He's completely unharmed, except for his hand, he's not even bleeding. He hasn't broken anything!" she explains eagerly, and Dongsik chimes in: "Bo-kyung was standing there, crying hysterically and yelling to her colleague that they had to get me to a hospital! So they carried me to the car, turned on the blue lights, and drove me there."

"You're absolutely right, that's just horrifying! And the fact that you didn't get hurt... Thank god. I'm so relieved. Angels must really have been watching over you that day," Inwoo replies, seemingly happy by the outcome.

He feels the bitter disappointment that Dongsik only got his hand stepped on. Couldn't fate have thrown him a few broken bones for good measure?

"But if that's how you get yourself a best friend, what does it take to be your partner? Does one have to run you over and hope to break your back in the process for that privilege?"

Inwoo laughs at his own suggestion but stops abruptly when he notices the stunned expressions on Dongsik's and Bo-kyung's faces.

Chapter Text

INWOO

Well fuck.

That sounded more murdery than intended. What's next? Straight up offer Dongsik tea laced with arsenic?

He catches the tiniest side-glance those best friends shoot each other. It's subtle, but please, he sees everything. Imagine exposing himself like this.

He who's been oh, so convincing at playing the part of a normal human being.

You don't gut the lamb on day one, not in the first weeks even. You feed it from your palm. Let it nuzzle right up to the knife. But now, just like that, the act slipped. He was careless.

All that work... for nothing?

Fingers crossed Dongsik's still too lovesick to notice the red flags waving in his face. But maybe Bo-kyung sees the cracks in the facade, the danger lurking just beneath the surface.

Inwoo clears his throat. "The food is incredibly good. Tell me, Dongsik, are you as good a cook as your father?" 

Desperate to escape the minefield he just casually walked into, Inwoo does what he does best: steer the conversation away from anything back-breaking and incriminating.

"Hm, I don't know if I'm as good. But I really enjoy cooking," Dongsik smiles bashfully, seemingly distracted. 

"Come on, don't be shy! You make the best food in the world!" Bo-kyung playfully nudges Dongsik's arm. 

"Don't tell Mr. Yook I said this, but Dongsik's cooking is better than this, believe it or not," Bo-kyung continues in a low voice addressed to Inwoo.

Wow, she really is Dongsik's biggest fan, huh? How cute.

It's almost a bit unfortunate that she's going to lose her bestie very soon.

"Uhm! What!" Dongsik says, color rising to his cheeks.

Does he even know how to respond differently? But Inwoo's glad that the topic of conversation has changed. Hopefully Dongsik already forgot about his little blunder.

New mission: Distract Dongsik with even more blush-worthy chaos. Works every time. 

"Really? Better than this? No way, I actually refuse to believe that. I think you're lying, Bo-kyung. Or is this a claim you would want to prove to me, Dongsik?" Inwoo can't help but enjoy the pathetic look on Dongsik's face, who blushes even more.

Nothing kills rational thinking quite like a little flaming heat in the cheeks. 

"Aiii, Dongsik, I think you should invite me and Inwoo to dinner!" Bo-kyung grins.

Dongsik is beaming his silly thousand watt smile, and nodding eagerly. 

Perfect.

If Dongsik invites him over, he could learn a lot more about that sad excuse for a man. The only downside is that Bo-kyung will be there, offensively breathing and existing.

"Yes, yeah, of course! I'd love to invite you to dinner. I'll try to live up to your expectations!" Dongsik looks so happy now, as if he's already started planning. 

"It's a date! I mean, it's a deal," Inwoo winks at him, which results in Dongsik swallowing wrong and having a coughing fit. He takes a big sip of his water and struggles to calm down.

Bo-kyung smiles apologetically at Inwoo. 

They keep talking about Dongsik and Bo-kyung's friendship, about trips they have had together. And about a time Dongsik helped Bo-kyung dye her hair and ended up getting the dye all over himself. It's easy, comfortable and disarming.

Inwoo listens, nodding and gesturing politely.

According to Bo-kyung Dongsik is an animal-lover, just like her. But more of a crybaby than her. Which isn't surprising. "He cried for an hour over a documentary once. About pandas in captivity. A full-on mental breakdown!"

"It was heartbreaking! They shouldn't be in captivity! Anyway, she's exaggerating. I'm not that soft!" Dongsik says, seemingly offended.

Inwoo's smile comes slow and deliberate. "Soft is not bad. You're just sensitive and a good person. Must be so hard for you." 

There's a shy glimmer in Dongsik's eyes, he is visibly touched by the words.

"And what about you, Bo-kyung? What's it like being one of the city's unsung heroes?" Inwoo's tone is light and friendly.

"Honestly? It's not as exciting as it sounds. Not much happens. Paperwork, parking tickets, and old ladies fighting over whose cat peed on whose balcony."

"Tragic! All that power, wasted on cat piss," Inwoo feigns a sympathetic wince.

"You get it!" Bo-kyung says.

"And meanwhile, Dongsik's off being the best in his department. Clean reports, not a single mistake. Never raises his voice. It's a little terrifying actually," Inwoo loves to watch as Dongsik lets out a nervous chuckle.

"What! No, I'm... I'm just doing my job."

"Exactly. You do it so well that you make the rest of your team look like a bunch of rookies," he glances at Bo-kyung, lowers his voice slightly, like he is letting her in on a secret.

"But you didn't hear that from me. I'm his boss, I'm not supposed to have favorites. But it's... hard not to when Dongsik's right there," he flashes a smile.

Dongsik turns red, lips parting like he wants to object. Bo-kyung watches him flounder with obvious amusement.

"Oh okay, do I need to leave you two alone, or..?"
She doesn't even pretend to be neutral anymore. She seems to thinks they're adorable.

"Not unless you want to witness a deeply unprofessional HR incident,» Inwoo murmurs innocently.

That earns a visible flinch from Dongsik, a quiet, flattered sort of panic. Got you.


Inwoo has no idea how it happened, but somehow, they end up sitting there for nearly three hours, just talking. It's a miracle he doesn't completely despise these clowns.

Then again, he's been faking through events like this his entire life. He's gotten far too good at pretending to be a well-adjusted person.

Just as they're about to leave, Dongsik's father and his wife come out again for a round of goodbyes. They both hug Inwoo, one after the other. Naturally, he lets them, what else is he supposed to do?

They launch into lengthy, breathy thank-yous, as if he has saved their son from a burning building. It's clearly unbearable for Dongsik, who looks like he's trying to physically disappear.

When they finally say goodbye to their son, Inwoo catches Bo-kyung giving him the kind of look that says she's taking mental notes. With her watching him so closely, Inwoo takes action. He makes a show of being focused on Dongsik.

His eyes don't just linger on Dongsik, they consume him. Now the dear best friends will really have something to talk about later.

Once they're out of the restaurant, Inwoo extends a hand to Bo-kyung and says, "It was nice meeting you, and I'm looking forward to dinner at Dongsik's," Midway through the sentence, his gaze shifts to Dongsik.

Strangely enough, he isn't blushing. Instead there's an almost glowing look on his face; shy, happy and hopeful.

"I'll get home now, I'll see you tomorrow," Inwoo's tone is gentle.

Dongsik moves closer like he wants to hug him, like something in him aches to hold Inwoo, but he stops himself in time. He's probably traumatized by how Inwoo reacted to his hug earlier today.

And just as well, because this is the absolute limit of physical contact Inwoo can handle in so few hours.

"I'll see you tomorrow. I had a great time," Dongsik says.

Inwoo extends his hand. When Dongsik takes it, Inwoo holds it gently but firmly, lightly caressing it with his thumb. He takes one last look at their joined hands for today, just enough to leave an impression. That should keep Dongsik flustered and eager for hours.

What can he say, he is feeling generous.

"Thank you for the dinner," Inwoo turns on his heel and walks towards his car, which is parked across the road.

As he gets in, he registers a glimpse in the side mirror, the besties are deep in conversation, all energy and open smiles. Dongsik looks unguarded, like he actually believes this is real. Inwoo shuts the door and lets the satisfaction settle in.

They bought it. Every last bit of it.


Tuesday, May 21, 2019

DONGSIK

At first he didn't want to believe Bo-kyung, but she had insisted that Inwoo appeared to be totally smitten with him.

And maybe she was right? Because whatever this was between them, it felt inexplicably like an intimate familiarity. Like they'd known each other before, in another life. The attraction was so enormous. It felt like something that might turn into real love if they let it.

'What does it take to be your partner?'
'It's a date, I mean, a deal'
'You have nice hands yourself'

Dongsik thinks about Inwoo's words over and over. This has to mean that he has feelings for him! Right?

But the best part of yesterday wasn't Inwoo's flirting, it was Bo-kyung's approval. She wasn't easy to impress, but she'd said she liked Inwoo, and that was enough to make Dongsik want to thank a god he didn't believe in.

Because if this ever turned into something more than... professional, or friendly, he wanted her to like the person he might one day call his.


True to tradition, since it's Tuesday, Dongsik and Bo-kyung are once again sitting at his father's restaurant, stuffing their faces with food. They have a lot to discuss after yesterday.

"I'm not coming to that dinner at your place," Bo-kyung remarks.

"Huh? What do you mean?"

"Hello!? Inwoo basically asked you to invite him over for dinner, and you just sat there like a stunned goldfish! I had to jump in and save you," she smiles encouragingly at him.

"Oh!" says Dongsik.

"So no matter what day it is, unfortunately I'm working evenings and won't be able to be there. It's going to be the two of you. Buuuut-" she drags on the last word, apparently unsure of how to phrase it, "He seems like a very decent and nice guy, but he's still your boss. So I'm still a little worried about how it's going to work in practice. If you understand?" 

Dongsik unwillingly nods and agrees with what she says. It complicates things, it would have been problematic enough if he were just a regular colleague, but it's even less favorable considering that he's his boss.

It's a problem Dongsik doesn't want to think about right now. It can wait.

For now, Dongsik is still high on the memories from yesterday, and he's not letting anything ruin that. 

Nice hands!
And that Inwoo likes his hair? One of the first things Dongsik had done today was cancel his appointment with his hairdresser next week. 

Dongsik's father and stepmother come over and plop down like they're part of the friend group. Suddenly, they're in the middle of the conversation, and Dongsik wants to crawl under the table and never come out.

Talking about his love life, if you can even call it that, with them right there?

It's a full body experience of pure cringe. And of course they're loving it. He's never looked this smitten before, and they're treating it like prime-time entertainment.

"It's been over two months since your old team leader was fired, right?" In-Hye looks at Dongsik questioningly.

What she says is true, but he has no idea how or when the time flew by.

Or how he managed to catch an emotional crisis of this magnitude over Inwoo in the process.


Friday, May 24, 2019

DONGSIK

Yesterday, Dongsik had been scheduled for lunch alone again and he'd been waiting for a text message to light up his screen. Not more than five minutes after the lunch list had been sent, he had indeed received a message from Inwoo asking if they should have lunch together again, at the same place as last time.

Color had rushed to Dongsik's face before he could stop it, a silent confession of nerves he couldn't silence.

Later he had met Inwoo on the first floor, heart still unsteady.

Like the last time this happened, they had gone to the restaurant together and had a nice meal. Inwoo had insisted on treating him again and Dongsik had given up after a short discussion.

"You're going to cook dinner for me one of these days, after all," Inwoo had said and winked at him.

Dongsik had wanted to ask what day Inwoo could come over, but Inwoo had started talking about something else, so he had not dared to bring it up again. He didn't want to seem too desperate, even though he knew it might be too late for that.

Inwoo had to understand that Dongsik was crazy about him. It wasn't subtle. Hiding it was getting harder by the second.


Dongsik is standing outside Inwoo's office door again, there are always meetings about all sorts of things. Today, it is time for a performance review.

Everyone had been given a form earlier in the week that they had to fill out before the meeting, so Dongsik had finished that yesterday.

He knocks gently on the door. It opens a few seconds later, and Dongsik looks confused at the face that greets him.

It's not Inwoo standing there, but Ji-Hun. He becomes a little unsure if he's knocked on the wrong door, but he spots Inwoo sitting in his chair further into the office.

Inwoo raises an eyebrow and looks at him. He thinks he can see a hint of a smile on his lips. A smile that is soft and almost smug. Dongsik catches himself wondering whether it means something.

Ji-Hun takes a step to the side. "Yook Dongsik, isn't it? Come on in." 

Dongsik walks in, and his confusion must be written all over his face. Is he going to have the performance review with both Seo brothers?

"Dongsiiik. Good to see you. What time is it?" Inwoo looks at him with a playful smile on his lips.

Dongsik's heart stumbles, cause why not?

"Uhm," Dongsik looks at the clock hanging above the door. "It's 10:01 am?" he continues with a hesitant lilt, as if he's not really sure if that's the right answer.

"Right, and you thought we were supposed to meet at 10:00?" Inwoo's gaze hasn't shifted, still fixed on him with that weird, unreadable look.

Dongsik glances over at Ji-Hun, maybe to get an explanation, but Ji-Hun says nothing. He just looks at Dongsik as if he's insignificant trash that should have been thrown out a long time ago.

"Um-" Dongsik tugs uncertainly at his shirt sleeve.

"You're early, we don't have the meeting until 10:15 am. But Ji-Hun and I just wrapped up, so it's fine. Isn't that right, Ji-Hun?" Inwoo looks at his brother instead and Dongsik feels pretty stupid for having gotten the time wrong.

Ji-Hun doesn't move, just watches Dongsik with that cold, intense stare. "How are you doing at work now, Dongsik? Has Inwoo... taken good care of you after your bully-situation?" he says in a icy tone, and now Dongsik feels a mixture of shame and embarrassment.

The bully-situation? Taken good care of him? There is no good way to answer that.

"Inwoo's been all over you and your little bully-situation, huh? Real concerned. Just do me a favor, if he starts getting too pushy, let me know so I can report him before it turns into something... messy," Ji-Hun retorts.

Dongsik has been so focused on the words, he hasn't noticed that Inwoo has stood up from his seat and is now standing almost right next to them.

For a moment Inwoo's expression hardens, his hand raising slightly and it almost looks like he is about to hit Ji-Hun, but of course he doesn't.

Inwoo grabs the doorknob and holds the door open. "That attitude? Unnecessary and unprofessional. And don't talk to him like that. In fact, don't talk to him at all. Out," he says with controlled rage.

It looks like Ji-Hun wants to say something more but gets a deadly look from Inwoo.

What is this? And why... Why does he like hearing Inwoo talk to Ji-Hun like that?

Ji-Hun leaves the room without saying another word, he just looks at Dongsik one last time. He can't even begin to figure out what that look is about.

Inwoo and Dongsik just stand there, looking at each other before Dongsik speaks. "Um, what was that?"

"Oh, that? Just Ji-Hun's specialty; trying to make me explode. He'll do anything to provoke me."

"Make you explode? P-provoke you?" Dongsik asks, and Inwoo rolls his eyes slightly.

He walks back to his chair, Dongsik follows his example and sits across from him.

"Forget about him, he has major mental problems. Let's talk about you instead."

"About m-me?"

"...That's kind of the point here. This is a performance review, you know," Inwoo starts seriously, but smiles at him again.

"Y-yes, of course, erm, I've brought the form and filled it out. Do-do you want it?"

"Good boy. Yes, there's nothing else I want more in this world," Inwoo looks at him slyly now.

Good boy?! What is this? And why does it turn him on?!

Dongsik hands over the sheet, trying not to shake. Inwoo starts praising him, and Dongsik nearly lets out a noise no adult man should ever make.

Definitely not at work.

Compliments are bad enough, but delivered with that voice and that face? Dongsik feels like his heart is about to jump out of his chest and throw itself out the window.

There are a million points to get through, and Dongsik stumbles through most of them like it's some kind of talent. Compared to Kong's brutal reviews, this should have been easy.

But nope, he's still managing to make a mess of everything. Shocker.

"You haven't had a pay raise in a long time?" Inwoo says in a questioning tone, even though he should know the answer to that.

"N-no... That's-that's right. No, I haven't," Dongsik answers shamefully.

"And why is that, you think?" Inwoo's face is solemn again.

"Uhm," Dongsik says. "Because... maybe because I'm not doing a good enough job? Because I haven't... earned it?"

Dongsik jolts in his chair as Inwoo slams his hand hard on the desk, he stares at Dongsik with a murderous look.

"Why on earth do you talk about yourself like that?!" Inwoo's voice is loud and harsh suddenly, a shocking contrast to all the velvet-toned praise just a few minutes ago.

Dongsik blinks and blinks, trying to consolidate the two opposites. It feels like he's about to cry because of the abrupt change of tone.

"For fucks sake, Dongsik!" Inwoo barks.

Dongsik flinches again, shocked to hear him swear. He's never heard it before. Tears are welling up in his eyes, he can't help it.

Inwoo holds the form in front of Dongsik's face for a few seconds, before he puts it on the desk and points at it with a pen he's holding.

"You're performing way above average on all these points. See? You're so much better and more... valuable than you think. The reason you haven't gotten a raise is because of Kong. He favored everyone else over you! Remember?"

Inwoo drops the pen, leans back in his chair and locks eyes with Dongsik. It's confusing to hear the words of praise at the same time as he looks at him so... disapprovingly. It almost looks like he wants to slap him.

Tough love much?

"I... I'm sorry, I... I don't know what to say. I'm sorry," Dongsik answers honestly, blinking away tears.

"No, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to yell at you, but the self-criticism ends here. The way you talk about yourself matters, and if you keep putting yourself down, you'll start to believe it. And I'm not letting you do that," Inwoo's voice is soft again. The words are a mix of sweet and strict.

Dongsik's already in deep, but after this? He's completely gone. How can someone be so kind?

Inwoo turns to the laptop on the side of his desk, types on the keyboard before turning back to Dongsik.

"Luckily, it's not up to Kong anymore. Ji-Hun and I have discussed this, and everyone in the department is getting a raise, but you're getting 4% more than the others. If you value your life, maybe don't bring up that last part," a sly smile tugs at the corner of his lips.

Dongsik looks at him in shock. They hadn't even had a salary discussion and now he was going to get a raise? 4% more than the others?

"But... Why?" Dongsik blurts.

Inwoo sighs deeply, seemingly praying for patience he doesn't possess. "I explained why. I just sent you an email with all the information you need and what your new salary will be."

Dongsik wants to ask more, but assumes he just has to say thank you. "Thank you, thank you! Thank you so much."

Inwoo doesn't answer, he just looks at the form and they go through the last two points. When they've finished with all the points, Inwoo takes a ring-file out of the drawer in his desk.

Dongsik studies the veins on Inwoo's hands while he carefully files away the form. Looks at his fingers. Long, elegant fingers, the kind that makes Dongsik imagine things he shouldn't do.

What would it be like to feel those fingers deep inside... You've already ripped me a new asshole, how about we put it to good use? WHO SAID THAT???

He needs to chill before he combusts on the spot. He's complimented Inwoo's hands earlier, he can't stare like that!

"How about Thursday or Friday next week?" Inwoo still doesn't look at Dongsik, he says it casually while putting the file back.

"W-what?" Dongsik has to physically shake himself out of happy-finger-heaven.

"Have you already forgotten about the dinner you were going to make me? Dongsik, I'm disappointed," Inwoo leisurely looks up with a smile playing on his lips.

"Oh-oh you were thinking about the dinner!" a bulb lights above a flustered Dongsik.

"I'm not thinking of anything else, I'm afraid," Inwoo smiles sweetly.

Dongsik should be used to his humor by now. He should be used to him constantly saying and doing things that freak him out, but here comes the blush, uninvited as ever.

"F-friday sounds good, if you can come then?"

"Friday's perfect. I'm looking forward to having dinner with you and Bo-kyung."

"S-she can't come," Dongsik stammers, the redness becoming increasingly prominent.

"You already know that?" Inwoo face tightens just a bit, like he's not buying it.

"Um, yes, she works evenings... All next week. The weekend too!" Dongsik is a bad liar, Inwoo has to see that he's not honest.

"Okay... Sounds like a hard work week. But you know, we'll probably have a good time without her too. Just the two of us. She can join us another time?" Inwoo says, a hint of contentment shows on his face.

Just the two of us!

His heart is pounding so fast, he's half convinced it'll burst out.


Friday, May 31, 2019

DONGSIK

Dongsik has explained the way to his home, and as Inwoo starts the engine, music streams from the dashboard. It's classical music again.

"Do you want to listen to something else?" Inwoo wonders, adjusting the volume. There they are, those majestic fingers.

Look at those fingers. They would feel so... No, don't think about them, it's wrong!

Think about his dick! Wait WHAT?

"Uhm! N-no, this is really, really, nice! But thanks for asking!" Dongsik is terrified Inwoo will read his mind like so many times before.

He looks out the window, pretending to find the road incredibly interesting. Fortunately, Inwoo doesn't say anything, and they sit in silence for a few minutes.

"What are you thinking about?" Inwoo cuts through the stillness.

Dongsik is desperately digging through the archives of his brain, praying to find literally anything to say besides what he's actually thinking.

"Uhm, I'm- I'm thinking about... Uh," Dongsik is buffering like a broken computer, trying to load any thought that's not wildly inappropriate or way too honest. He keeps looking out the window and spots a short woman walking on the sidewalk.
 
"I'm thinking about Bo-kyung," he blurts out.

Yeah, it's silly.

But it's a step up from admitting out loud that he's quietly obsessing over his boss's penis on this fine afternoon. And every single day, let's be real.

"Aha," Inwoo says curtly. "You... You're just friends, right?" he asks and Dongsik can't help but look at him. Inwoo just keeps his eyes on the road which makes sense since he's driving.

Does he look a little jealous? Or is that annoyance?

"Haha, yeah, she's not exactly my... type you could say," Dongsik both hopes and dreads that Inwoo will ask the follow-up question about what his type actually is.

"What's your type then?" Inwoo asks, of course.

Dongsik has to hold himself back from screaming 'men named Seo Inwoo, tall and so absurdly sexy that even the half of it would be too much to handle' or 'you, you, you, you, you’re my whole type and then some, how is that even a question?!'

"Uhm, oh, I don't really know... I, uh. Not women, so to speak," Dongsik admits.

He suddenly has to ask back. He must know. "What... what about you?" he tries to see if Inwoo thinks it's too invasive a question, but his face gives absolutely zero hints.

"I don't date," he answers dryly.

Dongsik feels a small twinge in his heart. "Oh," he says, hoping he doesn't sound as disappointed as he feels.

"But if I were to date... I like women," Inwoo continues.

"Oh..." the twinge in Dongsik's heart grows into an ache. 

Well, fuck my life? Ideally with something sharp and pointy.

"...but I can also go for men," Inwoo smirks.

"Oh!" Dongsik exclaims without thinking.

"Oh indeed," Inwoo quickly looks at him, his smile cocky and mischievous now.

Okay, no sharp and pointy fucking of his life just yet. There is still a chance!

Before Dongsik can ask more or say anything stupid (like 'oh' for the fourth time), a loud ring tone interrupts the mood.

Dongsik instinctively reaches for the phone he has in the pocket of his jacket, even though he knows it's on silent.

"It's mine. Do you mind answering for me? It's in my left pocket," Inwoo directs, with his eyes on the road.

Frozen in place the next ring jolts Dongsik into action, who leans across Inwoo, awkwardly skimming his side to feel the vibration from the phone. His face is really close to Inwoo's in this position.

Eyes straight on the road a hint of a smile tugs at Inwoo's lips, but Dongsik has a job to do: Find the phone without groping his boss too much, while not getting a boner in the journey, and he is failing miserably at both.

"Pants," Inwoo says, unbothered, sweet-tempered and with all the time in the world.

Dongsik almost puts his head on Inwoo's shoulder in defeat.

What is this fresh hell? Or is it heaven?

Clearing his throat, he gently lifts the flap of Inwoo's coat and skims his hand down his hip. In his attempt to still have a job tomorrow by not sexually harass his employer, his fingertips gently caress Inwoo's upper thigh, looking for a pocket.

Just as he is about to take a deep breath and dive into said pocket, and really dig for gold, Inwoo happens upon a revelation: "Oh it's in the jacket-pocket, on the right side. My bad."

Folded around his boss, nuzzled up in the crook of his neck, clutching the headrest with one hand, the other at the ready to end all excavation endeavors, Dongsik sags. All the air leaves him and he accepts defeat. And unemployment.

Seconds before he jumps back awkwardly, rights himself, and fishes the phone out of the easily accessible pocket.

"Can you answer and put it on speaker?"

Ever helpful, Dongsik goes to do as he's asked, but sees that it's Ji-Hun calling. He feels that he must warn him.

"Uhm, it- it's Ji-Hun."

The pleasant smugness leaves Inwoo's expression, and he seems clearly unhappy. "Just let it ring."

Dongsik does as he is told and puts the phone back where he found it.


Inwoo parks the car in the street in front of the apartment. Dongsik feels a little ashamed as they walk towards the building. It's not a bad apartment at all, but Dongsik can't help but compare it to Inwoo's expensive home, which is at least twice as big and infinitely nicer.

When they're in the elevator and Dongsik presses the button that will take them to the 6th floor, he remembers that he didn't make his bed this morning.

But he's pretty sure he closed the door to his bedroom, so Inwoo won't have to witness that pathetic sight. They're not going to spend any time in his bedroom anyway. Unfortunately.

Oh my god, can he get his head out of the gutter already.

Dongsik's hands shake slightly when he's about to unlock the door to the apartment, and drops the keys on the floor. Why does he always have to be so nervous? Inwoo must think he's a nervous wreck. Which is correct.

Inwoo picks up the keys and hands them to him. Dongsik says "thanks" and finally unlocks the door.

Once inside the hallway, Inwoo closes the door behind them. Dongsik furtively looks at Inwoo's face, to see if he's judging his apartment. Inwoo just looks indifferent and if he's judging him, there's nothing on his face to give him away.

Dongsik offers to hang up the jacket for him, but he's already hung it up and taken off his shoes. They walk further into the apartment.

"What an incredibly nice apartment you have," Inwoo looks around and it seems like he means it.

"Where's your bathroom?" he asks before Dongsik can thank him, and Dongsik points to the door right behind him.

While he goes into the bathroom, Dongsik heads to the kitchen and finds the ingredients for the dish he's going to make. It's a recipe from his mother that he hopes Inwoo will like. It's a dish he's made many times before, it's absolutely fool-proof.

He finds a cutting board and a knife, and places them neatly on the kitchen counter.

Dongsik must do his best to relax, this can't stress him out. He's just going to cook, they're going to eat together and then... then Inwoo will go home.

Nothing more will happen, so Dongsik doesn't understand why his heart is pounding so fast.

"What do I have the pleasure of tasting today then?"

Dongsik practically leaps at the voice behind him, and there's Inwoo, casually standing there. He hadn't even heard him enter the room. Either Dongsik is starting to lose his hearing or Inwoo is walking very quietly on purpose.

"Oh! I d-didn't hear you. Erm. It's-it’s a dish of fried noodles and marinated tof-" Dongsik stops and bites his tongue.

"I didn't think about that! I'm making you a dish with even more tofu! You might want something with meat? I-I completely forgot that we ate something similar at Dad's, if you want I can see if I have something else I can come up with!"

"Breathe, Dongsik," Inwoo assures.

Dongsik does the opposite, he holds his breath. He doesn't feel any calmer either, on the contrary he feels rushed by the words.

There's something about the commanding tone in Inwoo's voice, something he finds incredibly... sexy.

Inwoo's stare is so fierce it floors Dongsik, it's so powerful it sends his knees into melting-mode.

This is going straight to hell, no detours here.

"Of course you have to make what you have planned, don't overthink it," Inwoo continues and steps a little closer.

Now Inwoo is asking for too much, Dongsik won't stop overthinking until his final breath, and even then, he'll probably be lying in his grave wondering if he died the right way.

"Besides," Inwoo continues, in the soft voice that turns Dongsik into a little lump of jelly. "Tofu sounds delicious," Inwoo lets go of his gaze and looks at the ingredients Dongsik has placed on the kitchen counter.

An uncertain laugh escapes Dongsik before he also directs his eyes to the kitchen counter. Gotta see if everything is in place.

And it is. Except for the most important thing.

"No, my god!" he shouts dramatically.

He opens the fridge again to check, but can't find it.
"I managed to forget to buy the tofu itself. I don't know how I managed to forget, it's the main ingredient," he curses himself.

It's so ridiculous to be this forgetful. Dongsik turns to the open fridge, hoping that a block or two of tofu will magically appear, but there's no tofu in sight. He closes it again and looks dejectedly at Inwoo.

"No worries, it's easy to forget things. Do you want me to go and buy it for us?" Inwoo offers.

He is so kind!

"N-no, no! Th-that's okay, I got it! The store is right around the corner, I'll run and buy it myself. You can just stay here, and I'll be right back."

Dongsik looks at the kitchen counter again to double-check if the rest of the ingredients are there or if he's managed to forget more things. It doesn't seem like there's anything else missing.

"J-just make yourself at home, I'll be back before you know it!"

Chapter Text

INWOO

Wow.

Dongsik forgot the main ingredient for dinner? Shocking.
Dongsik failing at something? Who would have thought?
In other news, water is wet.

It's painfully obvious that Dongsik's got feelings for him by now. And Inwoo keeps pushing his buttons like it's his favorite hobby. He doubts he'll ever get tired of turning that man into a blushing, stammering mess with the smallest effort, the tiniest nudge.

And honestly?

Inwoo is having a blast, he is positively thriving. He's straight-up glowing from the high of it.

The way Dongsik had leaned in, awkward and flustered... It had been the highlight of Inwoo's week. Maybe even his month. Hell, his entire year.

Folded over him like a human origami project, desperately trying not to grope his boss while simultaneously brushing every possible 'do not touch' zone with trembling fingers.

All because Inwoo, entirely by accident, of course, forgot which pocket his phone was in.

Because where is the fun in remembering that kind of thing?

He wanted to see how far Dongsik would go before imploding from sheer embarrassment. And he hadn't been disappointed.

"Left pocket," he had lied. Tone innocent. Eyes never leaving the road.

Like he wasn't about to send his subordinate on the world's most sexually tense treasure hunt. The poor guy had basically climbed into his lap, hands patting everywhere, hesitant as if Inwoo was some kind of bomb wired to explode if and when touched wrong, which made it ten times better.

And to think of it, Dongsik had smelled... good? Clean and slightly sweet.

Inwoo had to grit his teeth to keep his face neutral, his hands firmly on the steering wheel, when all he wanted to do was tilt his head just a little and lean into that scent.

To freak Dongsik out even more. He could feel the heat radiating off the poor guy, like a kettle about to boil over.

He is full-on laughing now, just thinking about the way Dongsik wilted, with his head practically on his shoulder.

Inwoo had only needed to say one word: Pants.

And it was like watching a deer realize the headlights aren't getting closer, they're above it. Utter chaos behind those pretty eyes.

He keeps replaying the moment Dongsik just sagged in defeat against him, warm and supple, clutching the headrest like a man about to confess his sins. His sigh of defeat had brushed against his jaw, a soft caress.

Disgusting.

A better man would feel bad, but of course, Inwoo doesn't. It was a good time.

And besides, it's not like Dongsik didn't like it. Inwoo had felt the way his fingers lingered, how he had struggled to shake the moment off.

That man is a walking, talking repression fantasy, and Inwoo? He is going to break him open, make him face all those desires.

Slowly. Thoroughly. And with great enjoyment.

He glances out the window and spots Dongsik's tragic little silhouette trudging down the street. Safely out of the way, heading toward the store. Inwoo knows the area, it will take him ten minutes, give or take. Plenty of time.

He pulls out the black gloves from his bag. The ones he always carries, just in case. His fingerprints being all over Dongsik's apartment would make sense. They're friends now. Or acquaintances. Or whatever weird little category they fall into.

Still. No harm in being extra careful. Especially when you're this good at pretending you're harmless.

Besides, Dongsik might not have the cleanest habits, and Inwoo has no interest in touching whatever that entails.

He's not sure where to start, or what he's hoping to find. Maybe some dark little secret Dongsik's been hiding from the world? But that's unlikely. Dongsik is far too clueless and unimportant to be hiding anything at all.

He heads back into the bathroom. It's small, but not nearly as filthy as he expected. Then again, he doesn't trust Dongsik as far as he can throw him, so the bar was on the floor to begin with.

He opens the cabinet above the sink. A box of vitamins, a deodorant, a razor, and a toiletry bag. One little bottle of perfume. And one, just one, face cream. Of course, Dongsik only owns one jar of face cream. Inwoo didn't expect an elaborate 10-step skincare routine, but this is just sad.

He picks up the perfume bottle and sniffs it. It smells like Dongsik. Sweet, clean, innocent. Actually, it smells kind of nice. Cozy, familiar. He considers spraying it on himself, then shudders and immediately shuts that idea down. What even is that thought?

Still, he smells it one last time. Just to confirm. Yup, it somehow still smells like comfort.

Because it's Dongsik's?

He scowls and puts the bottle back and glares at it like it's mocking him.

Focus, you dumb fuck.

He opens the toiletry bag instead. Q-tips, lip balm, and a Hello Kitty bandaid. Dongsik is going to need a hell of a lot more than a Hello Kitty plaster when he's done with him.

He zips up the little bag and puts it back neatly. Like it was never moved.

There's a glass with a toothbrush and toothpaste on the sink, and a laundry basket in the corner of the bathroom. Which Inwoo refuses to poke around in, even with gloves.

He eyes the shower, spotting a lonely bottle boldly labeled 'Body&Hair'. Inwoo shudders with contempt at the miserable sight.

Dongsik is the kind of guy who washes his body with the same product he uses on his hair. No one is surprised. He is someone who only fulfills his bare necessities. A simple man in every single way.

Since the bathroom is so unexciting, he steps into the hallway again.

A picture of a young, beautiful woman hangs in the hallway. It's got to be Dongsik's biological mother. She's holding a small child in her arms, grinning wide at the camera. That smile, the hair and those eyes... definitely Dongsik's parent. No wonder he got the fluffy hair.

And the child? Staring at the camera with a stupid expression that should win an award for 'The most clueless kid'. If there ever were a competition, Dongsik would've crushed it.

Dongsik never talks about his mother. Why's that? They must get along, why else keep her picture up on the wall? Maybe she's dead?

He hopes that she's still alive, so that she can experience losing Dongsik. Looking at the photo, he imagines the shock and grief in those eyes when she hears about her son's sudden and untimely death.

"I'm sorry for your loss," he says aloud to the picture. "Apologies in advance, but your son's days are numbered. It can't be helped." 

The kitchen is equally uninteresting, except for Dongsik's collection of knives. Inwoo has an intense desire to put them to good use, sink them all into his body, but unfortunately that is not the plan.

He takes a look inside the refrigerator and finds it full of food. Then again, Dongsik is clearly interested in cooking. A couple of bottles of beer from the cheapest brand you can find.

He also has strawberry-flavored milk. He sighs loudly. Of course he does.

He decides to go into Dongsik's bedroom next. There must be something more exciting than this?

The duvet is thrown down at the end of the bed. Inwoo stands there, looking down at his bed for a while, and something in him makes him want to... lie in it? It must be because he is tired and overworked.

Next to the bedside table is a pink 10-kilo dumbbell on the floor. The thick layer of dust on it exposes Dongsik for not training that often.

There is a well-used pack of Kleenex on the bedside table. He wrinkles his nose in disgust, this is probably where Dongsik lies every night, crying himself to sleep and wiping away his pathetic tears.

He opens the bedside drawer hoping to find something. Doesn't every normal person have something exciting in their bedside drawer? The only thing in there is a book, a pair of reading glasses and... even more Kleenex. Dongsik should be sponsored by Kleenex.

Dongsik doesn't even have so much as a pack of condoms in his drawer. Even Inwoo has that. But then again, Dongsik having hook-ups? Highly doubtful. The thought of Dongsik having sex is just bizarre, almost comical.

And yet..

His cock stirs, paying attention at that thought. Probably just withdrawal, it's been over a year since Inwoo has had sex. He shakes off the weird feeling.

He closes the drawer and opens the wardrobe, to complete chaos. The smell of fabric softener hits him. The shirts are... technically hung, but clearly emotionally abandoned. These shirts deserved better. An utter mayhem stuffed behind the closet doors. One by one he opens the drawers below the shirts, which reveals socks, boxers and t-shirts. Pants and sweaters.

Folding clothes must be a foreign concept to Dongsik and there has probably never been any organization in this closet. Or his life.

Inwoo's fingers itch to fold and categorize the garments, but he also doesn't feel like touching them. He closes the drawers and the wardrobe. He checks his watch, he should still have quite a bit of time and decides to look in the living room instead.

Hopefully it's less disappointing than the bedroom. The showstopper in the living room is the enormous film collection. Dongsik must be a bit old-fashioned as there are both DVDs and VHSs. Thrillers, crime and horror films. Movies Inwoo himself enjoys, even though he rarely watches them.
 
So, we do have one small thing in common after all, he thinks. We both find murder entertaining, in slightly different ways of course.

He studies Dongsik's desk, pulls out a drawer and rummages through its contents. Invoices, work papers that he really should keep in a ring binder at work, a couple of receipts.

He's about to slam the drawer shut, but a handwritten letter catches his eye. He carefully pries the letter out of the pile. Dongsik doesn't have pretty handwriting, but that he already knew after the performance review.

He skims over the first few sentences. His eyes involuntarily look a little farther down the text. A manic laugh escapes him when he realizes what he is looking at.

A suicide note.

A pathetic, pitiful, perfect suicide note. Can Dongsik make it any easier for him? Not only is he the perfect victim, he has gift-wrapped himself and is ready to go. He's dying for it. Literally.

Dongsik is even weaker than he thought. There's no way he could sink any lower than this. Inwoo won't even need to fake a suicide note now. The letter isn't dated, so Inwoo doesn't know if Dongsik wrote this yesterday or a long time ago.

Another thought comes to him. He better keep those compliments coming, he can't risk Dongsik offing himself. Him dying by any other means than by Inwoo's hands? Nope.

He looks at his watch again, it's time to wrap this up. Still a few minutes to spare, but better safe than sorry.

He pauses, staring down at the letter. For a moment, he considers folding it and slipping it into his bag. But he can't do that. The itch to take a photo burns his fingers. But he doesn't. He's not about to carry this sad little confession around like a souvenir. Instead, he reads it again.

Dongsik writes that he feels completely alone in the world. That even with the 'best family' and the greatest 'best friend' anyone could ever ask for, he can't take it anymore. He wants the pain to go away, for it all to end.

Well Dongsik, consider me your knight in shining armor. I'll save you from this cruel world.

Inwoo puts the letter back in the exact same place, careful not to crease a single corner. Not that Dongsik would ever notice.


DONGSIK

Dongsik takes a deep breath as he walks out the front door. He has to ignore the urge to turn around and look up at his apartment, he senses Inwoo standing there looking at him through the window, but that's an idiotic thought. Why would he bother?

Wow, Dongsik thinks. Inwoo must really like... tofu.

When Dongsik had told him what he was making for dinner, Inwoo had looked at him with something... untamed in his eyes. And he had said that it sounded delicious.

Dongsik wasn't sure Inwoo had meant the food.

Dongsik could've sworn there was a hint of arousal in the way he said that word. But that must be his imagination running wild.

He stumbles over his own feet, of course it's a completely silly thought. There is no way he was 'aroused' by Dongsik, especially after that shitshow in the car... but maybe he was just... happy? Excited? Looking forward to dinner?

Dongsik slaps his forehead. Of course! Inwoo was just happy and expecting a good dinner! He had said it himself, he doesn't cook, and it had been a long day at work!

As far as Dongsik knows, no one cooks for him. Neither family, nor friends. Maybe he doesn't really have anyone he's close with? Really, actually close. He's not on good terms with his brother, and he barely talks about the rest of his family.

Maybe Inwoo is starving for affection, for someone to care about him? For someone to go that extra mile, like inviting him into their home and cook for him. Just spend time with him.

Dongsik realizes that Inwoo must be lonelier than even he is. At least Dongsik has Bo-kyung and his family. What if Inwoo doesn't have anyone?

What if he's completely alone in the world?

The sadness hits so hard he stops right in the middle of the sidewalk. He blinks furiously, but a solitary tear escapes, and he quickly wipes it away. He starts walking again, steps brisk, embarrassed someone might see him crying.

What if Inwoo is hungry for something as simple as kindness, desperate for someone to care? Maybe he is too proud, or too scared to ask for it?

He's always so guarded, so cold on the surface. So... detached.

But Dongsik knows better. He's seen it. Inwoo can be kind and gentle. And maybe he's just waiting for someone to see that.

Inwoo probably just wants someone to really care about him. It's almost a bit poetic, two men, both starved for love and connection, both drowning in their own quiet loneliness.

Tears threaten to break free again, but instead Dongsik uses his feelings to make a resolve. I have to look after him, he decides.

And not because I pity him. But because I want to. Because I care for him.

If anyone knows what it's like to carry that kind of quiet sadness, it's Dongsik. Maybe that's why he sees Inwoo so clearly.

With his head full of thoughts, he walks into the store and heads straight for the tofu. He grabs two blocks. He considers planning a dessert, but realizes he has no idea if Inwoo's has any food allergies, or a sweet tooth. He could call and ask, but decides against it. No dessert then.

Still, at the last second, he grabs a bar of milk chocolate with hazelnuts. Everyone likes chocolate, right? It's a safe choice.

At the checkout, the cashier hands him the bag with a polite smile.

If Inwoo doesn't like the chocolate, he'll just pretend it was for himself. Is it really possible to overthink something this simple? (Yes, it is)


Dongsik shifts the bag from his right hand to his left, pries the keys out of his jacket pocket. He unlocks the door and enters his apartment, this time without dropping the keys. Once inside, he quietly moves through the empty hallway, no Inwoo in sight.

"H-hello? Inwoo?" his voice cracks slightly, he immediately feels the blush rise to his cheeks.

Can't he just be normal? Say a few words without sounding like a nervous wreck? He feels more like an insecure guest in his own apartment than the host.

"The kitchen," Inwoo calls out.

Dongsik puts away his shoes and jacket and walks into the kitchen. Inwoo is standing by the kitchen counter, completely still, just watching him. His eyes are steady and intense, but there's something warm in them too. He looks pleased to see him. Dongsik's heart skips a little.

"You found what you were looking for?" Inwoo asks, his eyes still fixed on him.

Dongsik nods and puts the bag on the counter, feeling trapped in his unwavering gaze. He needs to break the eye contact.

"Yeah, yes, I did! I hope I didn't take too long!" He pulls out the two blocks of tofu, leaving the chocolate tucked safely in the bag.

"Not at all, I spent the time looking at your movie collection. Apparently we have very similar tastes when it comes to movies."

"Really? Maybe we should watch a horror movie together sometime?" Dongsik suggests.

Inwoo just gives a little nod as he finally moves his focus to the blocks of tofu Dongsik has set on the counter. "Would you like some help with the food?" Inwoo picks up the knife already lying on the kitchen counter. He seems to study it meticulously.

"No, no! I'll make the food, it doesn't take long to cook. You can just sit on the couch and relax if you want."

Inwoo doesn't answer, his eyes still on the knife he's holding.

"Uhm, but thank you so much for offering to do it! You said that you don't like cooking, so you should definitely not be forced to do it when I've invited you over for dinner!" Dongsik’s voice rises at the end.

He hears himself rambling, and hates it. He's talking too fast, his mouth always betraying him when he's nervous. His palms are damp, and Inwoo still hasn't said a word. He hasn't even looked at him, his eyes still fixed on the knife.

Inwoo stands there silently, staring down at the knife like it's something rare and valuable. Turning it in his fingers, testing the weight. There's something unsettling about the way he holds it, like he's not holding a kitchen tool, but something far more valuable, and... dangerous.

Dongsik swallows.

"You're too kind, I really don't deserve it," Inwoo finally answers and puts the knife down.

"What! Of course you deserve it. Think about everything you've done for me! You've kind of saved my life!" Dongsik feels like hitting himself.

He feels like putting on a permanent muzzle so he can never speak again. Imagine saying something so melodramatic! He's so pathetic.

"Saved your life?" Inwoo stares at him in surprise, but he has a tiny smile on his lips.

"Uhm! Y-yeah, well, now I'm just being dramatic. So maybe that was a bit exaggerated, but uh, yes, you got Kong fired and you've been so nice to me since we met and uh, what I mean to say is just that... Ehm. That I appreciate you!"

Dongsik wants to book an assassin to kill himself so he can just leave this world for good, he's so embarrassed.

Inwoo just looks more and more pleased as he babbles on. Maybe Inwoo realizes that Dongsik is an idiot in love and finds it charming? One can hope?

Dongsik doesn't know what he expected, but it wasn't this.

Without warning, Inwoo bursts out laughing. One hand clutches his stomach while the other one grips the kitchen counter.

Dongsik offers an uncertain half-smile, watching as the high-and-mighty Inwoo dissolves into a genuine fit of laughter.

After a while Inwoo straightens up, still clutching his side and wiping a little tear with the other hand, a relaxed grin on his face. "Sorry. I just... You have such funny facial expressions when you're embarrassed."

"Oh, I, uh, I say weird things too! Sorry about that!" Dongsik replies with an apologetic smile.

"You don't have to apologize. I... I like it."

"You-you like it?" Dongsik's eyes flicker, unsure of how to interpret the statement.

"Yes. And I appreciate you too," Inwoo murmurs, his smile broad and sincere, lighting up his whole face.

Almost dizzy from Inwoo's comment, Dongsik desperately wants to change the subject. Passing out is definitely not on his agenda.

Is it very hot in here?

The suits! They're both still wearing suits. Why are they wearing suits? It feels so unnatural to wear a suit inside your own apartment, and all of a sudden Dongsik has the strongest urge to rip his off right then and there.

That is followed by an even stronger urge to rip Inwoo's suit off. This is a problem because that thought comes with the attached visual, and that only makes his words tumble out even more incoherently.

"EH, yeah, eh Seo or no, oh my god, I mean In-Inwoo, you can borrow some clothes from me. You'll probably want to get out of the suit, eh, it can't be comfortable for you to wear it at home! Ehhh, not that you're at home now, but, uh, at my place! Heh, those are work clothes, eh, that you've been working in and stuff so eh, yeah, you might want to change, and I have clothes! So, ehm, you can borrow some clothes from me. Uhm, I already said that!"

In response to his babbling, Inwoo raises one eyebrow ever so slightly. "You want me to wear your clothes?" he says dryly. And unimpressed. His intense gaze seems to bore right through Dongsik.

Dongsik blushes even deeper, if that's even possible, and stammers, "Eh, well, if you think it's stupid-"

Without breaking eye contact, Inwoo steps closer. Dongsik's heart stops beating for a few seconds.

"I'll keep my suit on for now. We'll see if you're as good at cooking as I've heard, then maybe I'll feel like undressing," he says.

Dongsik holds his breath, certain that if this were a cartoon, sweat would be pouring from his palms and his face would be blood red.

Inwoo is standing right in front of him, leaning in with a smirk, their faces only inches apart. "You look hot, Dongsik. Do you need my help in undressing, maybe?"

"Um, I... Uh," Dongsik croaks, once again losing speech, and brain-power.

"Wow, that blush is really doing all the talking, huh? Am I really that intimidating?" Inwoo's smile is pure mischief, like he's savoring every second of Dongsik's discomfort.

Did he just lean in even more?

If Inwoo's goal is to end him with words alone, he's doing a damn good job. Dongsik's vision is literally going blurry, his brain has melted, and he can almost feel his soul exiting his body.

"Relax, drama queen. I'm joking. You cook, and I'll be on the couch. I have to answer some emails anyways," Inwoo pulls back, finally showing mercy, and leaves the room as if he hasn't just short-circuited Dongsik's system.

He stands there feeling stupid, humiliated and utterly flustered. There's something about Inwoo that makes him extra jumpy.

Inwoo is such a... tease?!

Always pushing just the right buttons, making him squirm with those comments. And that fucking smirk! And Dongsik just lets him talk to him like that.

Because... somehow... he's weirdly into it?

Dongsik stares down at the floor, cheeks burning, trying to calm down. Wondering if catching feelings for Inwoo counts as a form of masochism.

'Then maybe I'll feel like undressing' Please do.
'I appreciate you too' WHAT?
'Am I really that intimidating?' WHAT DO YOU THINK?!

The moment he grabs the tofu package, Inwoo calls out from the living room, "I hope you wash your hands before you cook for us, Dongsik."


With the food ready and placed invitingly on plates, Dongsik sets them on the table, one in front of Inwoo. He sinks down onto the couch himself.

Inwoo still hasn't looked up from his phone, either to look at him or at the food. He's clearly working really hard, poor thing, and probably has hundreds of emails to answer.

Finally, Inwoo puts his phone on the table and looks up, first at Dongsik, then at the food and then back to him.

"It really looks... mouth-watering," he hums, eyes still locked on Dongsik. It's almost like he's... fucking him with his gaze. Can you get pregnant from this?!

He should expect this by now, and yet. His heart skips a beat, and a shocked little laugh escapes him stupidly. If Inwoo keeps this up much longer, Dongsik will soon have to see a cardiologist.

Inwoo is flirting with him, hard. Should he flirt back? Dongsik can't flirt! How on earth do you flirt with someone like Inwoo? But he must try!

"You look... erm, I mean... the food is ready for you, or ehm, you look... hungry," Dongsik wants to facepalm, but settles for biting his lower lip in frustration. 

You look hungry. Is it possible to say anything more idiotic?!

Inwoo's eyes don't even flicker to the food. "You're right, I am hungry. But I'm not sure if I'm hungrier for the meal... or the chef."

It's a full-system-shut down.
Dongsik's brain and heart flatline. He can't think, or breathe, or move.

After what feels like an eternity, Inwoo chuckles softly and shifts his focus to the food.

"I'm kidding. I couldn't help myself, your reactions are so funny. I'll stop before I freak you out completely and scare you off."

Dongsik wants to say something, but his mouth isn't working.

Attack him.

Forget about the food, just kiss and fuck Inwoo right here on the couch.

"But you didn't change?" Inwoo says suddenly.

In response, Dongsik looks down at himself, aware that he's still wearing a full suit in his own apartment, like an absolute fool. He jumps up from the couch.

"Right, uhm, that's right. I'll put on something a little less tight. Erm! N-not that the suit is tight, it fits like a glove actually, but you know what I mean."

"I know what you mean, Dongsiiik," Inwoo replies sweetly, flashing him a wide, amused grin.

Dongsik, horrified by his own babbling, rushes into the bedroom and shuts the door behind him. With a little too much force.

He freezes for a few seconds, breathing deeply in and out. He starts unbuttoning his shirt and pulling off his pants, trying to ignore the heat rising in his face. And in his boxers.

He can't have a boner now! 
Okay, think about unsexy things. Please send help.

As he catches his reflection in the mirror, he winces. God, he wants to punch himself. Hard. The idiot staring back at him is a wide-eyed, red-cheeked mess. Okay, boner gone. Self-loathing clearly has its perks.

Breathe, you got this.

Dongsik tosses the suit onto the bed, he can hang it up later. He grabs a pair of loose pants and yanks open his t-shirt-drawer. The first one he pulls out has a hole near the collar.

"Aiiiishhh," he mutters. Even his clothes are trying to sabotage him. The second t-shirt is intact, miraculously. He throws it on and steels himself before heading back out.

Inwoo is still on the couch, sitting unnaturally straight, chopsticks in hand. But he hasn't touched the food.

"Is something wrong?" Dongsik asks, choosing the far side of the couch, even though every part of him wants to sit closer. But he plays it safe. He doesn't want to overstep, despite Inwoo quite recently bulldozing every boundary between them.

"I was just waiting for you. Didn't want to start without you," Inwoo replies.

Inwoo glances at his clothes, but makes no comments. Dongsik knows he should buy some new loungewear, these are at least ten years old and worn out. He wonders if Inwoo even owns loungewear, or if he wears suit pants and a dress shirt at home in his overly neat apartment.

What would he even look like in sweats? Scratch that, he probably sleeps in a crisp button-up.

It really doesn't look comfortable, sitting so straight and wearing a suit, but Dongsik decides not to mention it. Inwoo is effortlessly elegant, he thinks. They both start eating, and to Dongsik's great delight, Inwoo is inhaling his food.

"Wow! Bo-kyung was absolutely right. You really can cook! What are you doing in that office? You should be a chef or something. You're way too good at this."

Dongsik blushes at the compliment. Inwoo is praising him? About his cooking?

"Really? You like it?"

"It's mindblowing. Is this a recipe you came up with yourself?" Inwoo puts a piece of tofu in his mouth and chews happily.

Dongsik feels his stomach clench. "Uhm, no, I just changed it a little. But it's actually my mom's recipe. She used to make it for me and my sister when we were kids."

"But she doesn't make it for you anymore?" Inwoo wonders.

Dongsik realizes that he hasn't told him about his mother. "No, uh. She's not... I mean, she. Erm, she died," he takes a bite of his food to have something else to focus on, suddenly feeling a sharp pang of longing for her.

"Oh, I didn't know... I'm so sorry. Did it happen recently?" Inwoo's voice is gentle and cautious.

Dongsik is a little unsure of how much he really wants to say. "No, no, it was ten years ago, when I was twenty-four. She... Erm, she didn't get that old. It just happened... suddenly."

"I see. Was she sick?" Inwoo looks away, carefully stabbing another piece of tofu with his chopsticks.

"Well," Dongsik begins. "She... she took her own life," he lowers his head, letting his hair fall forward to shield his eyes.

The back of his neck burns with discomfort. This definitely wasn't the romantic dinner he'd imagined.

"Suicide?"

There's something in Inwoo's tone, just the faintest edge. A trace of amusement?

No, that can't be right. He looks over at Inwoo, expecting some flippant expression, but instead finds him looking completely serious. There's even a small frown between his brows.

"How... What did she do?"

Dongsik stares at him wide-eyed. Caught completely off guard.

"How did she take her life?" Inwoo presses and Dongsik just looks at him.

There's something in his eyes. Something dark. It almost feels like fascination. But Dongsik doesn't trust his own instincts. He's terrible at reading people. For all he knows, he could be misinterpreting everything. Maybe Inwoo's just... awkward for the first time in his life.

Before Dongsik can say anything, Inwoo's expression changes. He gently sets his chopsticks down and scoots closer. Without hesitation, he places a hand on Dongsik's arm.

"I'm so sorry Dongsik, that was thoughtless of me. That's a very morbid thing to ask. I didn't mean to be insensitive."

"No, no!" Dongsik defends. "You-erm, it's natural to get curious when you hear things like that. But I'd rather not... think about it. How she did it, I mean. Erm, I can tell you another time."
 
Inwoo's hand still lingers on his arm, warm and soft against his skin. If the mood weren't so heavy, he probably would've blushed at the touch.

"I'm really sorry, I don't know what came over me. Maybe I was just a little extra curious because... because my mother died too," Inwoo doesn't look at him as he says it, and his tone is difficult to read, flat maybe. Or careful.

Dongsik wonders, was that why he asked? Could it be that Inwoo's mother died the same tragic way?

"Oh, s-sorry! That's so sad to hear! erm. Did she also... take her own life?" Dongsik stammers, and his hand moves, resting on top of Inwoo's hand.

Inwoo's eyes drop to the touch. He stares at it for a few seconds.

"No. No, she didn't take her own life," he says, and finally looks straight at Dongsik.

"I killed her."

Chapter Text

INWOO

It's obvious that Inwoo can't help himself.

There's a wicked kind of satisfaction in watching fear bloom in Dongsik's delicate face. Those wide, innocent eyes were practically made for panic.

Hearing about his mother's suicide...

It makes so much sense. Dongsik came from weakness. The mother of a man like that had to be a coward.

The miserable little apple didn't fall far from the pathetic tree.

He imagines the woman with the sweet, serene smile in the hallway photo. He feels a fierce hatred for her, hates her for the softness she left behind. For raising someone this breakable. Hates her for leaving someone so easily shattered unsupervised.

How could you leave such a perfectly kind-hearted and soft son behind?

Inwoo wants to know exactly what she did. Pills? Women don't often do it in brutal ways. He would have done anything to witness it, anything to see how Dongsik took the news. Dongsik must have been absolutely devastated.

Even now, a full ten years since it happened, he clearly struggles to talk about it. He imagines a younger Dongsik just finding out, how he must have completely fallen apart.

The thought has Inwoo's heart racing and a smile threatening to break out, but he knows he can't. You're supposed to care about the man next to you, he reminds himself.

Focus, and act right.

You can't risk Dongsik being too suspicious. You need him to see you as someone kind. Someone safe. Someone he can talk to.

A friend.

But the temptation had been too great when Dongsik had asked if Inwoo's mother also took her own life.

Inwoo always tells it like that when her death is brought up.

'I killed her'.

The best part is that it isn't even a lie.

"Excuse me? What? Kill-killed her?" Dongsik stares at him, startled and scared. He pulls his hand away from Inwoo's.

He loves seeing Dongsik like this, so anxious. He could watch all the different expressions dance on that delicate face all day and not get tired of it. Inwoo waits a few more seconds, lets the silence stretch. He wants to savor it.

"That's a dramatic way of putting it," Inwoo says, his voice now lowered into something somber.

"But that's how it is. She died because of me. She died bringing me into the world. Complications, too much blood loss. They couldn't save her. So yes, technically, I killed my own mother."

Dongsik raises a hand to his mouth.
"Oh my god!" he exclaims behind a trembling hand.

He notes, with great displeasure, that tears are already forming in Dongsik's eyes. He should've predicted that. How much sympathy and tears can one pitiful man hold for Christ's sake?

"My god! Inwoo, that's terrible! Of course you didn't kill her! You must feel so guilty, but it wasn't your fault! I hope no one ever told you it was your fault!" Dongsik blinks fast, swiping at the corner of his eye, he takes Inwoo's hand in both of his, squeezing it tightly. His thumb strokes over Inwoo's skin, slow and comforting, his hold surprisingly firm.

Inwoo resists the urge to pull away, instead choosing to play along. He tilts his head just a little, the picture of tragic elegance.

Guilty, Dongsik said. Now that's a word. A wasteful feeling.

One Inwoo's never bothered to try on for size. Especially not when it comes to his mother.

Wrinkling his brows he looks deep into Dongsik's eyes.
"Of course I carry that guilt with me every day. How can I not?"

"Because that was never your fault! I'm so sorry you had to go through it, but please don't carry the blame, you don't deserve it! No child does!" Dongsik looks at him with such raw emotions of understanding and sympathy that Inwoo has to glance away, down at the floor.

It's too much, too uncomfortable. Seeing Dongsik sit there, radiating compassion like that, it's unbearable.

He suddenly feels the urge to steer the conversation elsewhere, he didn't plan for it to get this funeral-esque. Not yet and not in this way.

"Hey, why don't we try to finish the food and maybe talk about something else?" he suggests, forcing a half-smile.

Before I fucking choke on and drown in your empathy.


DONGSIK

He feels so much pain for Inwoo. They've both lost a mother, but Inwoo never even had the chance to get to know his.

No wonder the guy has such strange reactions when death is brought up. He's clearly scarred and traumatized. Carrying a burden so heavy.

And he walks around with that guilt, day in and day out! Of course he does. That must be what Dongsik often sees in his eyes, that distant, serious look. That must be what fuels his dark humor. That has to be his coping mechanism. He probably feels like he has to seem tough all the time.

Like he's not allowed to be soft, not allowed to show feelings.

Dongsik just wants to comfort him. He wants to hug him, pull him close, tell him that everything will be okay.

That he's not alone.

But he doesn't want to cross a line, not when Inwoo is already being so uncharacteristically vulnerable. Even holding his hand feels like an overstep, like it's too intimate. Like he's manhandling something fragile.

Gently, Dongsik lets go. Inwoo doesn't say anything. But he looks relieved.

Dongsik is still processing this newest information. He wants to ask more, but he respects Inwoo's need for a change of subject. He won't push.

They've started eating again, the silence is less heavy, but still present.

"The food isn't too spicy?" Dongsik asks, mostly to say something that doesn't involve dead mothers.

As soon as he says it, he realizes that he never brought out anything to drink. And Inwoo hasn't said a word about it. Too polite. Poor man.

He jumps up from the couch before Inwoo can even answer. "Oh my god, we need something to drink with the food! What do you want? Wine?» he blurts out, already halfway to the kitchen.

But he doesn't have wine. Nothing that even remotely resembles wine. The best he can offer is a couple of sad, leftover beers from some godforsaken brand that probably taste like death. He mentally smacks himself.

"No thank you. Water is fine for me," Inwoo replies calmly.

Dongsik is relieved, but surprised by the answer. 
"Of course! Water! Coming right up!" he practically sprints to the kitchen.

He grabs two glasses and pulls out the water bottle from the fridge, trying to salvage this disaster of a dinner, then opens the freezer for ice cubes. Only to find an empty tray. Empty!

Why, in the name of everything holy, had he put an empty ice tray back in the freezer? What kind of clown puts an empty ice tray back?
Oh, right.
This fucking clown.

You're not just a bad host, you're a tragedy.
You're a walking hospitality crime scene.

He returns to his guest, carefully balancing the glasses and water bottle in his hands.

"You can drink wine, even if I'm not drinking tonight," Inwoo says while watching Dongsik fill the glasses.

"Oh, no, that's fine, I don't like wine," Dongsik says and immediately regrets it. 

Great, Dongsik, just amazing. Why do you always have to admit too much? What kind of adult man, over thirty, openly confesses to not liking wine?

To his surprise, Inwoo just gives a little shrug, says nothing, and keeps eating.

After a few quiet bites, Inwoo speaks, his voice low and unhurried. "You know... you don't have to pretend to like things you don't. Not around me."

It's simple. Gentle.

But something about the way he says it makes Dongsik's heart do that ridiculous somersault again. His fingers tighten around his water glass. He doesn't trust his voice enough to answer right away, so he just nods. Looking down at his food and trying very hard not to smile like an idiot.


INWOO

He has to admit it. The food is actually very good. That part wasn't an act.

What had taken effort was pretending not to judge the outfit. A pair of sad, worn-out pants and a t-shirt that looked like it had survived a decade-long war. Inwoo had tried not to let it show, hoping that Dongsik hadn't noticed the momentary flicker of disgust in his eyes.

He feels an intense desire to drag him along for a shopping spree; clean him up, elevate him, fix the mess. Utterly idiotic, considering Dongsik will be dead soon enough. He doesn't need clothes where he's going.

Inwoo, however, might splurge on a new funeral-attire for himself.

The funeral. He'll have to show up. Put on a solemn face, being the grieving friend. Sit in the pews beside Dongsik's father and Bo-kyung, eyes misty with grief. Maybe he'll squeeze out a tear or two.

Pretending to mourn this great loss.
So humiliating. Degrading.

He just hopes they bury him in his tailored suit. That would be fitting. Poetic.
And fucking hilarious.


After dinner, the conversation drifts back to Dongsik's film collection. Turns out the guy's not just a casual fan. He's a full-blown collector, proudly boasting well over a hundred films. He speaks with so much enthusiasm it's almost endearing. Almost.

"I must be a real masochist. I really hate anything scary, but I'm weak for horror movies? It's kind of weird!" Dongsik's beaming, handing Inwoo a DVD. "This one kept me up all night when I watched it. I guess I like things that aren't good for me!"

I bet you do.

"Really?" Inwoo reads the back of the DVD. "So you willingly subject yourself to psychological torment for fun?" he smirks.

"Uhm. Well, I guess? Heh," Dongsik blushes.

"I see, we all have our little... destructive tendencies. Maybe fear comforts you? Or maybe..." He trails off.

"...Maybe you just like being... punished?"

Dongsik's breath catches audibly. Watching him squirm is addicting.

"I haven't seen this one. Maybe I should watch it with you sometime then?" he continues and it's clear from Dongsik's expression that he likes the idea. Dongsik nods eagerly and takes a big sip from the glass of water he's holding.

Inwoo is not done yet, he's ready to push every button until Dongsik's cheeks burn and his words trip over themselves.

"...In case I get too scared, I mean. Then you can... take care of me."

The big sip of water Dongsik had just taken and not yet swallowed, explodes from his mouth and hits Inwoo square on the shoulders and down the chest. Water drips down the lapel of his suit-jacket.

Stunned, Inwoo stares slowly down at the wet patch, then lifts his gaze back up to Dongsik, who is looking like a deer caught in the headlights. A very mortified deer.

"Well. That's one way to mark your territory," Inwoo says, deadpan.

Dongsik's face goes bright red as he jumps to his feet, nearly losing the glass in the process. "No, my god! I- I'm sorry, I- I didn't mean to do that!" he yelps, looking around frantically.

Inwoo's first instinct is disgust.

Water and spit on his expensive tailored suit. He looks down at the darkened patch spreading across the fabric and feels a surge of revulsion curl in his gut.

But then, something else takes over. The expression on Dongsik's face is of pure panic. Eyes wide, mouth open in horror, it's just too funny.

It makes him laugh. Again. A full on belly laugh. He's not used to laughing this much in a single day. It keeps slipping out, and it's starting to piss him off. But he can't stop.

Dongsik, who's finally gotten hold of some napkins, stands frozen for a second, just staring at him. His eyes are filled with something like awe, like he can't believe Inwoo isn't angry.

Maybe he thinks Inwoo's finally lost it, and maybe he has.

Inwoo isn't sure what bothers him more: that he's letting himself laugh like this, or that he doesn't entirely hate it.

Dongsik leans in, daring to enter Inwoo's personal space, pressing the napkin gently to his damp jacket. It's such a stupidly intimate gesture. Inwoo grabs the napkin from him, more abruptly than he needs to, and starts drying himself off.

"You really want to get me out of this suit, don't you?" he's looking up at Dongsik with a sly grin he barely has to fake.

The shade of red in Dongsik's cheeks is impressive, even for him.

"Um, oh! No! No, no, uh. No, uh, I'm so sorry! I'm completely hopeless! I don't know what to do with myself when you say things like that!" Dongsik presses his lips together, visibly struggling to hold the rest in. Like he's afraid of giving himself away.

As if it's not written all over him. Inwoo watches him twitch and struggle, and something in his chest twists. He tells himself it's just amusement. Just entertainment.

But part of him, some stupid, traitorous part, thinks it's almost... cute.

He shuts that part up. Hard.

"I'm sorry, I have a terrible sense of humor, as you already know," Inwoo says, removing his suit jacket and draping it over the couch.

Dongsik carefully sits down again, his eyes following Inwoo's gaze to the wet spot. "I'm-I'm so sorry about that!" he squeaks.

"It's just water, no harm done," Inwoo reassures him, surprised by his own lack of revulsion. In fact, there's something oddly endearing about Dongsik's clumsiness.

Endearing? The fuck is that thought?

"But you usually watch horror movies all alone?" Inwoo picks up the DVD again. He refuses to entertain the idiotic spiral his brain just started, he needs to shift gears. Now. For both their sakes.

"No, I usually watch them with Bo-kyung. We both really enjoy horror movies. She says hi, by the way! She had a great time when we all ate together at the restaurant!" Dongsik seems more relaxed now, the redness has subsided in his cheeks.

"You must say hi to her from me. We'll all meet again soon," Inwoo responds.

Dongsik looks so happy and content now that it's almost a bit horrible to end him before what Inwoo suggested happens.

The next time I see Bo-kyung is when I see her ugly-crying at your funeral.

Despite his murderous desires and intentions, he catches himself enjoying Dongsik's company. For real? He's supposed to hate this. The awkwardness, the silly smiles, the constant stammering.

The oversized heart practically bungee jumping off of Dongsik's sleeve. But instead, he finds himself strangely... hooked. Against all logic.

Why? How?

He tells himself that it's just because he's too good at playing the role. The role of charming boss and trusted friend fits like a glove now. He's scarily convincing. Maybe he missed his calling, he should've become an actor. This right here is an Oscar-worthy performance. No one could guess the thoughts residing behind his polite smile.

At least not sweet, trusting little Dongsik. It's scary how naturally he's playing Dongsik like a game now.


Speaking of games; Dongsik suddenly lights up, wanting to show him some computer-game he clearly adores.

"I can't count how many times I've played this," he laughs, glowing with excitement.

They've moved to the desk now. Dongsik is perched on a stool, and he's generously offered Inwoo the office chair.

"I like zerg the best. They're like these creepy alien things," Dongsik is gesturing enthusiastically at the screen.

"How old is this game?" Inwoo squints at the blocky graphics.

"This came out in 1998. There are newer Starcraft-games too, but I love the first one! Do you want to give it a go?" Dongsik asks cheerfully.

Inwoo wants to say no.
He's not the type to waste time on computer games, he's never been. But Dongsik looks so stupidly hopeful, so he nods and takes the mouse. He fumbles his way through a short round, clicking aimlessly. Nothing makes sense. A few minutes in, the screen flashes: You failed to achieve victory!

"Oh no, you died!" Dongsik exclaims. "Don't worry. I died my first time too," he grins at Inwoo.

They take turns playing and Inwoo doesn't hate it. He should hate it, especially when he dies in the game again.

"Damn, you're really horrible at this, aren't you? But it's your lucky day, I'm here to save you!" Dongsik laughs, nudging him with his elbow.

Is Dongsik seriously teasing him? Where did he find the balls? Does he realize who he's messing with? The little...

He should put him in his place. He should say something sharp and cutting. Instead, his mouth twitches like it wants to break into a smile. A genuine smile.

No. Absolutely not.

...And why is Dongsik's laugh so contagious? He has a very pleasant smile... and a sweet laugh. An irritating warmth feeling is creeping up Inwoo's neck.

No.

What is this?

Inwoo excuses himself, claiming he needs to use the restroom. The truth is he just needs to breathe.

To get away. Regroup.

Inside the bathroom, he checks his watch. How the hell is it already this late?
That's... concerning.

He turns on the faucet and lets the cold water run, watching the stream swirl pointlessly down the drain. He splashes water on his face, washes his hands slowly, dries them deliberately.

This isn't you, he tells himself. You're not here to feel anything.

When he returns, Dongsik is curled up on the couch again. Looking peaceful and annoyingly content.

Inwoo's first thought is to press himself right up against him. To sit beside him, maybe even rest his head on his shoulder.

Not because he wants it. Just to mess with him, freak him out. To see that perfect smile crack under pressure.

No other reasons, of course.

"Turns out, I'm not that good at saving the day! Everyone was out to kill me, so I just had to give in," Dongsik explains.

Inwoo lets out a low chuckle as he sits down on the opposite end of the couch. "Hate it when that happens," he replies smoothly, settling back with crossed legs, pretending casual indifference.

He wonders what his next move should be.

Should he sleep over? It's getting late.

He quickly dismisses it. Sleep over? Is he fucking crazy?

Sure, he wants Dongsik to like him and have feelings for him. He wants him emotionally entangled.

But spending the night? Sharing a bed with him? Laying there, feeling his warmth next to him? Listening to him breathe? He could never. He can't give up control like that. If he slept, he'd be vulnerable.

What the hell is that thought?

"Thank you again for the lovely food," he says with a gracious nod at the empty plate.

Dongsik smiles at him, a little dreamy, a little hesitant. Unsure, like always.

"Uhm, Inwoo?" Nervous tone. Classic Dongsik.

"Yes?"

"Can I... ask you something?"

"Of course, Dongsik."

Inwoo's addicted to the way Dongsik lights up every time he says his name. It's pathetic. He's already relishing whatever awkward, adorable mess is about to come out of that mouth.

Maybe Dongsik is tired of their 'games' by now?

He'll probably ask if there's something between them, ask what Inwoo really wants. Inwoo has said way too many inappropriate things today. Which Dongsik probably has read into.

He's crossed too many lines, even for him. There's been so much flirting. So many lingering looks. Way too many words that could be mistaken for tokens of affection. Words that Dongsik no doubt took at face value, because he always does.

It dawns on him that judging from Dongsik's body language, he must already be in love with him. Not just a little crush or an infatuation. A victim who's in love with his own future murderer.

It's so absurd, so perfectly twisted, that Inwoo has to bite back a laugh. What kind of tragic cliche is this?

...But it's that feeling again.

That annoying thing in his chest. It twists and tightens, refusing to let go.

Disgusting. Vile.

Maybe Dongsik wants to confess his puny little feelings for him at this very moment? Should he pretend that he reciprocates those feelings? Should he play along, drag him deeper into this mess?

Faking it some more could be so much fun, just to break him completely? Watch him fall harder with every glance, every touch, every lie, until there's nothing left but deceit. How entertaining will it be to see the realization in Dongsik's eventual glassy gaze, as life seeps out of his beautiful body?

Or will Dongsik's heartbreak be slow, delicious, like a petal being plucked one by one?

"Uhm. Do you like milk chocolate with hazelnuts?"

Of all the questions Dongsik could throw at him, this was definitely not what Inwoo was expecting. He anticipated something deeper, something more meaningful. Not a dessert debate.

Again, classic Dongsik: simple and totally oblivious.

He can feel his mood plummet, and disappointment taking over. No, he isn't disappointed. Angry is what he is.

"What? Why on earth are you asking about that? And no, I don't eat chocolate," he can hear the faint sting of defeat in his own voice, and hopes that Dongsik's too dense to notice.

What did you want him to ask you anyway? What the fuck is wrong with you?

"You don't eat chocolate?! Are you allergic?" Dongsik looks at him like he's just committed a moral sin.

Only Dongsik could get worked up over chocolate. Inwoo briefly considers storming to the kitchen, grabbing a knife, or all of them, and sticking them in Dongsik's throat, one by one. To put an end to this ridiculous conversation. To end the fucking man. Fuck him right the fuck off.

"I try not to eat... sweet things. Chocolate, sugar, you know."

Dongsik is still staring at him, wide-eyed, then smacks his forehead like he just realized something earth-shattering.

"Oh! Right, of course! You're being careful, jogging and working out every day. No wonder you look so insanely good! Your body must be inhumanly beautiful!"

Dongsik's face burns red, and to Inwoo's great dismay, he feels the same heat rising in his own. The flush feels filthy and unwanted, like something he needs to scrub off.

No. No.

That's out of the question.

Inwoo is not a guy who blushes at stupid compliments. At least not from someone like Dongsik.

Kill him now! End this shitshow!

"I'm sorry! Uhm, I didn't mean- Erm, that came out completely wrong," Dongsik looks embarrassed, but a small smile plays on his lips.

No. This is not happening.

Inwoo quickly gets up from the couch and says, "I have to get home now."

He doesn't spare Dongsik a single look. He's not going to respond to Dongsik's worthless compliment, he refuses to stoop that low. He bows to him, and sees the irony of the respectful gesture to something as pathetic and pitiful as him, but does it anyway to keep up the pretense.

Dongsik also gets up from the couch, keeping a good distance between them. "Uhm, you need to leave already?"

Already? Inwoo has been here for hours. What the hell is Dongsik talking about?

"Yeah, it's getting late. I have to get up early tomorrow for an appointment."

The last part is a complete lie, but he needs to get out. Now.

"Oh sure. Okay... I see. It's getting late," the disappointment is clear on Dongsik's face.

Surprised and angry by how much that disappointment gets under his skin, Inwoo grabs his suit jacket and reaches for his bag without another word. He strides to the hallway and starts slipping on his shoes, putting on his still damp suit jacket.

He catches himself in the mirror. He's still blushing.

He wants to scream. He should just kill Dongsik now, get it over with. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Dongsik standing right beside him. His heart hammers like a caged bird attempting escape.

What the hell is this?

Dongsik's standing there, holding out Inwoo's coat like some devoted little servant. Their fingers brush, barely, skin against skin for the briefest second.

But it's enough.

Enough to make something coil, low and unwanted, in his gut. A sick pulse of heat he refuses to name. He shuts it down instantly and violently. Pushing it down so deep it may as well rot there.

What the fuck? And an even better question: why the fuck?

He looks at Dongsik's hands, the hands he's called nice before. Because they actually are? He looks at his bare forearms, at his fair skin. A sudden urge hits him. An urge to reach out and... touch him.

To hurt and kill him, that is. Of course.
 
"Ah, before you go, just wait five seconds," Dongsik says, before disappearing into the kitchen. Inwoo hears him fumbling around, and moments later he returns, holding a bag. He holds it out, revealing its contents: a lunchbox full of leftovers. Dongsik places the bag on the furniture beside.

"Uhm, there was quite a lot left. And I'm going to eat at my sister's tomorrow so... you can have it. I want you to have it. Then you don't have to order anything, you can just heat it up tomorrow, and have a home-made meal."

Shockingly enough gratitude wells up in Inwoo's chest. Pathetic. What is he, soft now? He bites down on the inside of his cheek, furious at himself for even feeling something so useless.

And then Dongsik does something so painfully stupid, so laughably silly, it borders on performance art. He slowly brings his thumb and index finger together, lifting his hand like he's unveiling some grand gesture, forming a heart with his fingers.

A finger heart.

He holds it there, beaming and proud, like he's just delivered a speech that'll go down in history.

Of all the things he could've done, that's what he went with. So deeply unserious it should be illegal. Inwoo wants to scoff, to say something rude, and dim his stupid light. But his throat is dry, and his heart is full.

He looks adorable like this.

Dongsik laughs a little silly and cute laugh - wait no, not cute. Just silly. And Inwoo? He doesn't scoff. He doesn't say anything flirty, or rude. He breaks into a real smile. A full, fucking smile, for no reason at all. He feels the corners of his mouth twitching and wants to claw them off his face.

He stares at the bag, then back at Dongsik. Inwoo's smile drops just as his gaze drops to Dongsik's mouth. To his lips. He has obscenely nice lips. Pink and pillowy-soft.

Has he always had such nice lips? Yes, of course he has.

Imagine... kissing those lips.

The thought hits Inwoo like a punch to the gut. It's sudden, unwelcome and humiliating. What the hell is wrong with him?

He leans in, desperate to regain control. He's overwhelmed by his own offensive feelings. He locks eyes with Dongsik instead. Eyes are safer. Eyes don't look kissable.

Attack is the best defense. He wants to rattle Dongsik, turn him into a flustered mess. Maybe if he stutters or blushes, Inwoo will regain some power and feel like himself again.

But Dongsik doesn't flinch, he doesn't even blink. Inwoo does. It's his pulse that races. He's the one taken aback.

Dongsik only looks slightly puzzled, but there's that damn smile again. That infuriating, playful little smile.

As if he knows exactly what Inwoo's thinking.

Leaning in didn't help. Up close he's... so incredibly beautiful? Like always. So beautiful that it almost hurts to look at him. The soft curve of his mouth. The delicate line of his jaw, the way his lashes cast shadow across his cheekbones.

It's unreal. And cruel.

What in the fucking hell of fucks?

Dongsik has leaned in too.
Just a little, just enough.

And this time, he doesn't avert his eyes. He looks straight at Inwoo, calm and steady. There's no confusion in his gaze, just something quiet and open and terrifyingly certain.

Expectation. Openness.

He's standing there, saying nothing, doing nothing. Just waiting. For what? Waiting for Inwoo to... kiss him?
 
Every fiber in Inwoo's body says kiss him. Kiss this fucking soft and beautiful Dongsik, and cut his throat afterwards. But he does neither.

Can't do that, at least not kiss him.

Instead, he tilts his head slightly to the side and gives Dongsik a kind of hug. A strange, stiff, awkward thing. Barely a hug at all. He only touches him with his cheek, arms still hanging uselessly at his sides. He's not a hugger.

Dongsik's arms wrap around him instantly. One hand moves gently, tentatively up and down his back. Dongsik presses closer, warm and solid. Inwoo feels his breath catch, because suddenly Dongsik feels... firm, secure against his chest. And he smells so good. A mix of aromas from the delicious cooking and cedarwood, that same perfume Inwoo smelled in the bathroom.

He hates that it's comforting. Hates that it makes his chest ache.

He should pull away. He needs to. He should say something and ruin the moment before it ruins everything.

Before it ruins him.

This is dangerous. This is crossing a line he can't uncross.

But instead, something in him cracks.

There's something so goddamned unbearable about being held like this. It burns through him. His whole body is screaming to pull back, but it's impossible. His body won't obey. The heat of Dongsik's body is all-consuming. Suffocating. Perfect.

He wants it. To melt into Dongsik's embrace. Against his conscious will his body leans into the embrace.

Wants to let go of everything and just exist here, pressed into that too-soft t-shirt and that maddening scent and the impossibly secure way Dongsik holds him.

The stroking on his back deepens. Slower and firmer. Dongsik pulls him in even tighter. Like he knows how badly Inwoo wants this. Needs this. Like he needs it too.

Inwoo's arms move without permission, heavy and slow, his body betraying him yet again. He wraps them around Dongsik. His hands land on Dongsik's lower back. He can feel the thin fabric of his t-shirt beneath his fingertips. The warm skin beneath it. His hands linger there, he presses in. Just enough to feel the shape of him. Just enough to feel a maddening craving for him.

He shouldn't crave him, he can't have him. But crave he does.

The longing that follows is insane. Like hunger, like thirst, like a need buried and cultivated for years, that is just now tearing its way to the surface. He holds on to Dongsik like he is the only thing keeping him from falling.

This craving, no, this yearning is overwhelming. He wants to slide his hands under his t-shirt, to finally feel skin. Warm and smooth, and alive under his fingertips.

Wants to feel the softness, the texture of him, the muscles shifting under his touch. He wants to know what Dongsik feels like against his hands, against his lips.

What the hell is happening?

It's driving him mad, infuriating him, that Dongsik is wearing a t-shirt. Thin cotton clinging to the shape of him, hinting at his perfect body underneath. While Inwoo is trapped under layers upon layers of material; a shirt, stiff suit, another fucking coat on top of that. A barrier, a prison. Keeping him from what he desires to feel...

What the hell are they doing? 

Inwoo allows himself a few seconds longer, steels himself, then tears himself away. It physically hurts to do so.

"I... Thank you. Really. For the food, I mean. You didn't have to-" the words spill out of his mouth. He grabs the bag with food, just to keep his hands from shaking.

He doesn't dare meet Dongsik's eyes now. One glance and he knows he'll lose whatever semblance of control he has left.

He'll end up kissing him. He'll beg for it.

"A-anytime. This was... really nice. We should do it again sometime. Drive safe," Dongsik's voice trembles.

Inwoo wants to look at him. But he knows that if he does, he won't be able to walk away.

Inwoo opens the door and walks out the apartment, his face still burning with shame and forbidden desire. He refuses to let Dongsik turn him into this mess. He just keeps walking and mumbles a barely audible "bye", not even sure if Dongsik hears it.


But why does it feel like Dongsik's warmth is still clinging to him, holding him captive?

It's fucked up.

And worse... why does he want it again?

Chapter Text

DONGSIK

He can't have been wrong.

He might be bad at reading people, and he's terrible with social cues and body language, but that look Inwoo gave him in the hallway... Inwoo had considered kissing him.

Even after Dongsik had spit water on him and spent the whole day acting like a dumb little mess.
 
He can feel the butterflies in his stomach and the corners of his mouth defying the laws of physics, his smile is so wide it hurts. Whoever came up with the phrase 'smiling from ear to ear' must've known someone like Inwoo, because oh my god, Dongsik cannot stop beaming.

Breathe Dongsik. Breathe. You got this.

He desperately wants to look at Inwoo through the window, but has to resist the temptation. He can't just stand there watching like a creep. What he wants to do even more is running after him and throwing himself into his arms.

Thankfully, he still has a few brain cells left to rub together, that stop him from acting on this impulse.

Something tells him that that's probably not something Inwoo would appreciate anyway.

Still...

Inwoo had let him hug him.

For the first time.

He had imagined this moment, just a hug, a hundred times. Dongsik had wanted this for so long, knew he needed it. But nothing could have prepared him for the way it actually felt.

Inwoo didn't stiffen up or pull away. He didn't sigh or roll his eyes, or push him off. His quiet acceptance, the heat of him. He had stood there, still at first.

Then, so carefully it almost broke Dongsik's heart, Inwoo had lifted his arms and wrapped them around him. Like he meant it, like he needed it just as much. The grip of Inwoo's hands on his back...

Inwoo had blushed at the too honest compliment Dongsik gave him. Dongsik has always considered himself the reigning champion of blushing, but Inwoo? Inwoo won this round. Easily.

It was the first time he'd ever seen Inwoo like that, blushing, flustered and a little off-balance. A little less guarded. And it made him look so real.

He had blushed at something Dongsik said to him, and had been so taken aback by his own reaction that he'd run home. So, thankfully, it wasn't just Dongsik having pathetic reactions anymore. And Inwoo had said so many things in an unmistakably flirtatious tone today, that it had to mean he liked him back.

"Oh my god," he says out loud, and immediately breaks into a silly little victory dance in the middle of the living room, arms flailing, feet barely coordinated. He nearly trips over a slipper and keeps going anyway.

Then his eyes land on the plate and chopsticks Inwoo had used, and for a brief, unhinged moment he wants to lick the chopsticks. Just because they've touched Inwoo's lips.

Of course, he doesn't. He's not that far gone. No one should be that sick and desperate. Right?

He wants to text him, and thank him for the day. He wants to call him. Just to hear his voice again. Just to hear the way he says his name. So sugary-sweet. But he doesn't want to be annoying.

This is a crisis.

He can't possibly be this excited just because he likes someone, and they might like him back. That's not normal.

But Dongsik's not normal.

He tries to shake off the euphoria and grabs the plates and chopsticks to take them into the kitchen instead.

It's Friday. Which means two whole days before he has to go back to work. And for the first time in, maybe five years, he's not looking forward to the weekend.

He wants it to be Monday. Because Monday means work, and work means Inwoo.

Sure, in theory, he could text him. Ask if they could do something this weekend, maybe each other. But they've never done anything together on a Saturday or Sunday. It's always been at work, or just after. Weekend plans are for people who already have something, right? And he's not sure they do. 

He never knows what Inwoo is thinking, because the man is impossible to read. Always a little too composed, a little too detached.

But those moments on the couch, and then in the hallway...

It had been so clear.
Inwoo had been embarrassed. Flushed. Felt things and responded strongly. He had been open in a way Dongsik had never seen before.

Inwoo had wanted to kiss him. He had so visibly wanted him.

He'd seen the way Inwoo's gaze had gotten caught on his lips, and leaned in as if he were in a trance, right before the hug.

Dongsik smacks himself on the forehead. Of course! Inwoo had been waiting for him to reciprocate, to take the next step!

Because Inwoo is also unsure. Which is ridiculous, someone that beautiful should never be unsure of something like that.

He can't be alone with his thoughts right now, absolutely not. He needs to call Bo-kyung immediately. He has to tell her everything. Everything that was said. Then they can break it all down together, event by event. A proper analysis is in order.


INWOO

Inwoo hasn't driven off yet.

He's been sitting in his car, stunned, for almost ten minutes. Still parked outside Dongsik's apartment building, like a fucking idiot with nowhere else to be.

One hand pressed to his chest. His heart is pounding. Not just beating, but pounding, fast and frantic, like he's just escaped death. But he's sitting in a parked car, motionless, and somehow his heart is acting like he just ran a marathon.

So why is his heart acting like this now? Because of that walking disaster with a sweet smile and those kissable lips?

He stares at the door handle, reaches for it. Stops, then leaves his hand hovering there.

He wants to get out.

Why? Because he wants to go back to Dongsik.
Why? Because he wants to kill him, of course.

... Right after he's done kissing him?

The sound of his phone ringing does absolutely nothing to help his already-pounding heart, but it snaps him out of his idiotic thoughts.

Dongsik?

He glances at the screen. It's Ji-Hun.

"What the hell do you want!" he snaps as he answers, his hand is no longer resting on the door handle.

"What the fuck? Why are you so angry?" Despite the harsh words, Ji-Hun doesn't sound surprised. It's not the first time, and definitely not the last, Inwoo has answered his calls like this.

"What the hell do you want?!" he repeats, even sharper this time.

He looks out the car window, tilting his head forward and to the side to try and catch a glimpse of Dongsik. Nothing. The glass reflects too much. It's late, but the sky's still bright. Annoyingly so.

"I'm calling because one of the President's guns has been stolen. Naturally, you were the first person we thought of who'd do something like that. Was it you?"

"Why the fuck would I do that?" Inwoo asks, genuinely confused. He has plenty of his own guns. The last thing he needs is one that belongs to his father.

"Because you're reckless, dramatic and permanently pissed off. And if anyone was going to steal a gun just to prove a point, it'd be you," Ji-Hun grunts on the other end.

Inwoo lets his head fall back against the headrest, closing his eyes. "That logic is offensively stupid." 

"So it wasn't you?"

"Oh please," he mutters, "I have enough of my own guns to shoot myself with if you keep calling me like this. It's Friday night, why are you even calling me?"

"You're in a mood. I think you took it. Maybe you're planning to kill a few more dogs or cats and figured you'd use a gun that's not traceable to you. I don't know, man, how do full-blown psychopaths operate these days?" Ji-Hun replies, full of sarcasm.

"I don't kill dogs and cats," Inwoo's voice is perfectly flat, "At least not with a gun. Where's the fun in that? Much better to kill them with hands. Hypothetically speaking, of course. Was there anything else you wanted?"

There's a short pause.

"You need help," Ji-Hun says, tone dry as sandpaper. "Like actual help. Therapy, medication, exorcism. Something."

"Sure," Inwoo lets out a quiet snort. "But the real tragedy is that I'll still get away with it. A little smile, a lowered voice, and people eat it up. You always hated that part, didn't you?"

"You're sick, you know that? No matter how charming you think you are, people still end up hurt when they get too close to you. So maybe do the world a favor and shoot yourself with one of your guns, like you suggested."

Inwoo doesn't answer. He ends the call and shuts off his phone, the screen going black. His reflection stares back at him, distorted. It fits.

Ji-Hun might be a bitch, but he's not wrong.

Inwoo doesn't deserve much of anything, really.

Least of all a life.

Or a hug. A life-altering hug.


He's already put the lunch box in the fridge. For a few seconds, he considered throwing out the leftovers, maybe even the whole lunchbox. But the food had actually tasted great.

It's fine, it's just food. No big deal.

What's harder to admit is the shift in his feelings toward Dongsik. How sudden it seems. Or... was it ever sudden?

Going from wanting to take his life to wanting to... Well. Take him.

Inwoo has, admittedly, always found Dongsik attractive. He admitted that to himself a long time ago. But that shouldn't mean anything. It shouldn't matter.

He's noticed Dongsik's sweet, infectious laugh. The way he blushes when he stutters, when he gets all awkward and unsure. It's... adorable.

There was something special about Dongsik that had caught his attention from the first moment they spoke together. That he could be his perfect victim. And he still could be, nothing about that had to change.

After all... he is, deep down, a murderous psychopath void of emotions, so killing Dongsik must still be part of his plan.

But maybe... maybe the plan can be postponed a little? Adjusted?

Inwoo can kiss him. Have him. Just once?
And kill him afterwards.

There are plenty of murderers who sleep with their victims before they kill them. Whether the victims want to or not. It's really not that unusual.

But no matter how much Inwoo hates to admit it, the thought of raping Dongsik is not appealing. He'd go so far as to say he actually hates it. Not because it would hurt Dongsik, because he'll kill him eventually.

But he hates the thought of Dongsik not wanting him back. And he doesn't want to damage Dongsik the way rape does. If there's anyone Inwoo hates more than the weakest and stupidest in society, it's rapists. They're the lowest of the low.

Just the thought of taking Dongsik by force makes him sick. As if he suddenly has grown a conscience. Of course not.

But he wants him willing and eager. He wants Dongsik to like him. If he's being honest with himself, he's always wanted that.

Could he have been such an idiot and not realized that maybe his feelings are... romantic? Not murderous? Or are they both? Is he really that blind? That fucking stupid?

He grabs his phone and scrolls to Dongsik's contact. A sudden, strong urge to call him wells up in his chest, to hear Dongsik stumble over his words again. But he sets the phone down on the bench and just glares angrily at it.

No, Inwoo isn't an idiot. He's not someone who falls in love. At least, not with someone like Dongsik.

It's just that...
When Inwoo thinks about him, there's a knot in his stomach. He wants Dongsik to need him. Inwoo wants to own him.

Wants Dongsik to beg on his knees, he wants Dongsik to call out his name in pleasure. He wants to see what Dongsik looks like when he's naked. He wants to kiss and explore him.

Make him... come.

At that thought all the blood flows down and he feels the throbbing in his cock. 

Well fuck.

He strips off his clothes and steps into the shower. Shame clings to him, heavier than the steam. He tilts his head back, lets the hot water pound against his face. He tries to stop his mind, erase his thoughts, but it's useless.

When he closes his eyes, all he sees is him.

Inwoo lathers his hands with soap, scrubbing his body harder than he needs to, like he's trying to peel off his skin. He tries to think of something else, anything else. But Dongsik is everywhere.

He needs a stronger distraction.

He thinks of Kong, thinks of the footage, fists and kicks landing on Dongsik like he's nothing. It makes Inwoo see red. Makes him feral. He imagines walking in at that exact moment. Grabbing Dongsik, shielding him. Slamming Kong into the floor without hesitation. Punching him until his knuckles bleed.

Defending Dongsik. Saving him.

Only I may touch Dongsik. He's mine. No one else is allowed.

He thinks about Dongsik's lips. They're pink. They're always pink. And they look soft, distractingly pillowy. He wonders how they'd feel. If they'd yield under his touch.

He thinks about his smile, wide and easy, like he has no idea what it does to him. That laugh, real and carefree.

And the way his hair falls across his forehead, messy and curly. He wants to yank it. Hard.
His beautiful eyes, too innocent for their own good.

The quiet strength in his forearms, the way his body moves without even trying to be noticed, and yet... he notices.

And Inwoo wants all of it.

To his horror, he feels it again. The reminder of his arousal is jutting up against his stomach, stiff and undeniable. He grits his teeth and tells himself that it's the thought of killing Dongsik that makes him this hard. Nothing else.

Just the thought of his hands wrapped around Dongsik's neck, squeezing tighter and tighter... and kissing him.

He shuts the water off and blinks hard, reaching for a towel with shaking hands. He stares at himself in the bathroom mirror, looking at his hard cock in displeasure. Being this aroused and ready just at the thought of having his hands on Dongsik? He can't. He has to ignore it.

But his mind drifts back to Dongsik's arms around him in the hallway. The feeling stirs again, deep and warm, and unwelcome.

No one, least of all Inwoo, gets horny from a fucking hug.

And yet he is hard as a fucking rock. His cock refuses to be ignored. It begs to be handled roughly. He is both angry and ashamed when he realizes that his only option is to... take care of it.

After the short and humiliating shower, he lies down in bed. Not even bothering with the covers. By now he is feverish with desire. He needs to come. Now.

He can't remember the last time he was this turned on, he hasn't felt this kind of need in a long time. But now, when his thoughts drift back to Dongsik... Dongsik and his beautiful smile...

So incredibly innocent and... delicious...

He can admit it to himself now, and somehow that feels okay. Dongsik is delicious, and he wants him. Wants to kiss him, to run his fingers through his soft, fluffy hair. He wants to kiss him deeply, messily. He wants to trail kisses down his neck and unbutton his shirt. Feel his skin against his lips. Bite and then lick his nipples.

Taking his sweet time with Dongsik, tease him til he hates him just a little, just the right amount.

Just the thought of Dongsik's naked body...

Inwoo lies motionless with his eyes closed and just imagines what he's going to do to him, but he refuses to touch himself.

Not yet.

He's decided he's not desperate enough. If he thinks about this a little more, thinks about exactly what this means, maybe reason will catch up with his lust and pull him out of his unwanted fantasies.

His cock is throbbing painfully. To not touch himself when he thinks about Dongsik's face and body feels like torture.

He opens his eyes and looks down at his erection. Mortified of losing control over his thoughts and body. Mortified of being powerless against his own feelings. This should absolutely not happen.

Thinking about what could have been had he actually kissed Dongsik in the hallway. Dongsik would have let him, he would have kissed him back. He's certain of that. Thinking about how it could have ended if he had actually slept over at his place tonight.

He can't hold back any longer, needs to feel his cock in his hand.

He's horrified when a pathetic little moan escapes his lips as he thinks about what it would be like if it were Dongsik touching him right now. If it were Dongsik jerking him off.

Inwoo thinks about Dongsik's body, what it would be like to lie next to him. Pressing himself against him. Pressing his cock inside him.

Fucking him like there is no tomorrow.

It's been a long time since Inwoo has felt the need to touch himself, can't remember the last time he had an ejaculation. But the thought of Dongsik makes it impossible to resist. The thought of taking Dongsik in his unmade bed, throwing him around and hearing him groan. He just knows that Dongsik likes it rough. It's always the innocent ones who are the wildest.

He's so fucking delicious.

Inwoo moves his hand faster and faster, knowing that he won't last long once he's in this mindset, but he can't care anymore.

To imagine what it would be like to lie between Dongsik's legs, slowly suck his cock and empty his balls. The thought of what Dongsik looks like when he comes. How he... tastes.

There's something primal that takes hold of him, something raw and uncontrolled. He has no choice but to surrender to the flood of desire and feelings. They're stronger than he is, consuming him completely.

He imagines Dongsik lying beneath him and begging for more. A Dongsik that begs for more and deeper and faster and more and...

"Dongsik, I have to... have you," he hears himself pant as he comes hard and long, and the only thing he can see clearly is Dongsik.

Beautiful, fucking Dongsik.

Chapter Text

Sunday, June 2, 2019

INWOO

He's spent all of yesterday punishing himself, tearing himself apart, mind and body. Woke up at 07:00 am, went for a jog.

Like routine could fix anything.

Six kilometers turned into ten, then more. He ran until his legs gave out and he collapsed onto a bench, lungs burning. His heart was racing. But not because of that. Just from the run. Just his body catching up.

Some old lady walking by took one look and asked if he was okay.

"What the hell does it look like? I'm not fucking okay!" he had yelled back. Then he pulled himself together, apologized and confessed. Said he'd overdone it with the training.

It was pathetic. Even on the run, the despicable thoughts wouldn't stop.

As a penalty, he hadn't eaten all day yesterday. Not until 8 pm, when he gave in and reheated the food Dongsik had given him. It should've lasted two meals, but he ate it up in one sitting.

He'd seen Dongsik on Friday. It hadn't even been that long. But missing him already felt unbearable.

He won't accept that he has such strong feelings for him. Not like this. It's one thing to desperately want to kill someone, another thing entirely to... like someone romantically.

And not just wanting to have sex with them, but... but wanting to be... their boyfriend?

Every damn fiber in his body aches for Dongsik. He stares at his phone, actually considering calling him. And say what, exactly?

'Hey, so I was planning on killing you. Yeah, crazy, I know. Anyways, now I want to date you instead. Hope that works for you!'

He scoffs at himself and drops the phone back on the table. He's losing it. For normal people, liking someone is just that: normal. And expected. It fits neatly into their lives, it's a natural part of being human.

But for Inwoo?

Inwoo only knows how to manipulate and destroy. He wears charm like an armour, wields it like a weapon.

Psychopaths don't fall in love. That's a fact.

They're not wired for it. No empathy, no real emotional depth. What they feel is need, possession and control.

Not love.

So, whatever this is, it can't be that. Maybe it's just lust, tangled up in the illusion of something complicated.

Because love?

That's not in his nature. He knows that. He's studied himself more thoroughly than anyone else ever could. There's no room in him for love. No space for softness. No capacity for genuine affection. Love is for people who aren't broken in all the worst ways.

He's a liar. A manipulator. A psychopath pretending to be a normal man. Every part of him is calculating, he is not made for compassion and feeling. He knows he was made wrong. Built wrong. Like someone forgot to give him whatever Dongsik is made of.

Because Dongsik?

Dongsik is everything he isn't.
Kind. Sweet. Good. So genuinely good it hurts. He listens when others speak, and cares when others hurt. He offers trust like it's something that can't be broken. His heart is open in ways Inwoo can't comprehend, generous in a way that makes no sense to someone who has spent his life calculating every move, weighing every word.

Dongsik is pure. Too good for someone like him. They shouldn't even breathe the same air.

But Inwoo wants him. No, needs him.
Not in a way that is fair or right. Not in a way that's safe.

And yet...
There's a shift. A flutter in his chest, in his heart. Something he can't name but can't ignore. Something he can't kill.

He wants to be near that warmth, even if his broken soul doesn't deserve it. Even if it ruins everything.

Even if it ruins Dongsik.

And maybe that's the worst part; he knows it. Knows how much better Dongsik would be without him. And still, he wants him all to himself. Because Inwoo is selfish.

A fucking psychopath.

He'd only destroy him. Even if he doesn't kill him. He should stay away. Protect Dongsik from the damage he brings.

But he won't. He can't.
Why does he want him like this? Why does it feel like something is cracking open in his chest, like something foreign is trying to grow in a place where nothing ever lived?

Is this... love? It can't be...

Can a person like him even have romantic feelings?

He remembers Kim Jo-Min, the girl he'd been obsessed with for so long. She had taken her own life before he could kill her. Not that he'd felt anything romantic for her, but she's the closest thing he can compare this to. Jo-Min and Dongsik, both so heartbreakingly unhappy, both capable of ending their own lives. Two perfect victims.

His heart starts pounding when he thinks of Dongsik's suicide note. Just two days ago, he'd laughed reading it, aloud and unhinged, like it was some sort of joke. And now?

Now he feels sick with worry. Crushed by it. Consumed.

You can't change feelings that quickly. It shouldn't be possible. He can't be that unstable, that crazy, can he? That far removed from reality?

He catches himself thinking about Friday, about genuinely enjoying Dongsik's company. Even enjoying that dinner with Dongsik's best friend. Getting jealous of Bo-kyung. Multiple times.

He'd let his guard down. Forgotten what his plan had been. Forgotten himself. Wanting someone like this means weakness. Needing means danger. Love, if that's what this is, means the ultimate surrender.

Breathe you idiot. Think about this logically.

If these feelings are true... isn't it better to be in love with someone than to want them dead?

What's the worst that can happen? He confesses, gets rejected. That's survivable. And then what? If Dongsik rejects him, he can still kill him.

...But even that thought feels wrong now. It hurts to imagine Dongsik in pain. He doesn't want anything bad to happen to him. Not anymore.

Actually, there are others who deserve to die. Kong Chan-Seok, for one, who made Dongsik's life a living hell. Or Dongsik's mother, who abandoned him so easily, who made him feel so small and unwanted. But she's already dead, so that problem's ironically solved.

Dongsik is too valuable now. Too precious. He can't let him go. Can't let anything or anyone touch him.

He's mine. He belongs to me.

Inwoo has spent his whole life building walls. Not out of fear, but for precision. Control. Efficiency. And yet, here he is, staring at the wreckage of his protective fort. All because of one man.

And to make matters worse...

He doesn't want to rebuild. He wants to wade through the rubble and emerge at the other side.

Maybe...

Maybe, this means something. Something he never thought he could have.

A beginning.


Inwoo barely speaks during dinner. Not that he's ever chatty with his family, but tonight he's set a new record for indifference. He picks at his food, his mind consumed by thoughts of Dongsik and what it will be like to see him at work tomorrow.

He considers calling in sick or working from home to avoid confronting his confusing feelings. But he quickly dismisses the idea. It's too stupid, too cowardly. Inwoo may be many things, but he's not a fucking coward.

His phone lights up on the table. Ji-Hun, who is unfortunately sitting next to him, reaches for it.

Before Ji-Hun can look at it for long, Inwoo yanks it back. Their eyes meet. Ji-Hun smiles broadly.

"Yeah? So the rumors are true then?" Ji-Hun taunts.

Inwoo glances down at the phone in confusion.
'Thank you so much for Friday, I had the most magical time ever!! :) I hope you did too! <3 Was the food still good as leftovers?'

It's a text message from Dongsik.

A fluttering sensation stirs in Inwoo's stomach. He's happy to hear from him.

'Most magical time ever'? That's fucking stupid. Fucking stupid, adorable and sweet. Even the silly smileys are cute. He really is losing it.

Inwoo glances at Ji-Hun, trying not to look guilty, unsure how much of the message he could have read considering how quickly he had snatched the phone back. Maybe he just saw that it was from Dongsik?

"What do you mean by rumors?" Inwoo whispers, not wanting the rest of the family to hear.

"That you're using your office for extracurricular activities, Dongsik being the main one," Ji-Hun doesn't bother to lower his voice. Unlike Inwoo, he speaks louder than normal.

Everyone's eyes are on Inwoo. He has such an intense desire to end Ji-Hun right now. Put a knife in his throat and destroy his vocal cords. Do the world a favor, so no one can ever hear him speak a word again.

"Aishhh, are you sitting there blushing? It's true, then? I was just kidding, there's no rumor! But maybe it should be?" Ji-Hun grins.

Inwoo's cheeks heat up. Clearly this is his new default state.
 
"What are you talking about?" Chung-Hyeon asks, sensing the tension.

"Nothing, it's just Ji-Hun who's started taking drugs again. So, he's a little confused and doesn't know what he's saying, poor thing," Inwoo says, slipping his phone into his pocket to hide the evidence. He keeps his voice neutral.

"What! No! I haven't!" Ji-Hun protests, feigning innocence.

"Can the two of you try to act like grown men for once?" Eun-shil interjects, looking at them pleadingly.

"Of course. I'm sorry," Inwoo is meeting her gaze.

Ji-Hun opens his mouth to respond but is cut off as Chung-Hyeon raises a hand, signalling the end of the conversation.


Monday, June 3, 2019   

INWOO

This shift in his feelings is both frustrating and all-consuming. Ever since that first conversation, Dongsik has taken over every spare thought Inwoo has. When he wanted to kill him he obsessed over it, fantasized about it constantly.

That was easier to understand. Simpler.
But now, the fantasies have changed.

Now he finds himself thinking about kissing him. About holding his stupid hand. About what it might feel like to just... be near him, without all the rage.

And that's the most overwhelming part. This, this fucking softness, feels more terrifying than the thought of planning and getting away with murder ever did. Because for Inwoo, violence made sense.

But love? That's something else entirely.

When he thinks about Dongsik now, in this second, he doesn't want to kill him. He doesn't want to hurt him even a little bit. He tries to imagine it, but it's as if his thoughts have a life of their own and they don't agree with his murderous tendencies anymore.

But only when he thinks about Dongsik. The thought of killing, for example, his father, his brother or Kong, is perfectly fine. It's only the logistics that stop him there.

So, it's Dongsik who is the exception. Dongsik who was supposed to be the perfect victim, who had always been the perfect prey...

The perfect exception.

But he can't feel this for Dongsik. It's wrong. Dongsik is kind and gullible, and in a perfect world would deserve someone who would cherish him.

But I can... I will do anything for him. I want him so badly it hurts.

Inwoo clenches his fists, nails digging into the flesh of his palms. He feels a surge of possessiveness, a desperate need to keep Dongsik to himself. It's not just desire, it's a compulsion, a feverish self-assigned duty to protect him from the world.

But who's going to protect him from you?

The thought gnaws at him, but he pushes it away.

He doesn't need protection from me.

It's Dongsik and me. It has to be.

There's no world where he can walk away from him. No version of reality where he can pretend that he doesn't feel this.

I used to think I wanted him dead. Now I think the only thing that would truly kill me is losing him.

He feels a pang of longing, a deep ache in his chest. He wants to hold Dongsik, kiss him, convince him that he's the one. But instead, he tears at his hair, the frustration boiling over. He hasn't slept more than an hour, and he's already on his fourth cup of coffee. His hands tremble slightly as he holds the mug.

A sudden urge to cry overwhelms him, and he never cries. But then again, he's not one to feel romantic emotions either, so why not start crying too while he's at it? He wants to scream, bawl, destroy something or someone.

Anyone but Dongsik.

But he's not crying. Not screaming. He's doing nothing. He must wear the mask, pretend that everything is normal. He's been faking his whole life. If he can control his emotions and his darker impulses, he should be able to handle this.


DONGSIK

Dongsik had dinner at his sister's on Saturday, and somehow, ended up telling her about Friday. About the almost-kiss.

It had felt awkward to say out loud, but Ji-Yeon had asked a lot of questions. Even her husband was curious. Dongsik still wasn't any clearer afterwards. When he got home, he and Bo-kyung dissected the whole thing again, and he ended up exhausted with himself.

"Just text him. You don't have to confess anything, just say you had a good time. It's polite," Bo-kyung had argued on the phone.

By Sunday, Dongsik couldn't resist. He sent a message. Some invisible force pushed him to do it. And the regret kicked in immediately. He reread it a hundred times, convinced it was stupid.

'I had a magical time'? What kind of grown man writes something like that? Like he's eight years old and just came back from Disneyland? Jesus Christ.

Might as well have added a sparkle emoji and signed it with 'Warm hugs, Dongsik'.

Just thinking about it made him want to go back in time and throw his phone into a river. Maybe throw himself in the river as well?

Still, when the reply finally came, an hour later, he practically dove for his phone.

'Food was good. See you tomorrow'

No warmth, no gratitude. Just nothing. Why would he be so cold and distant? Was the near kiss just in his head?

Did Inwoo see him as nothing more than a fool to be used and discarded?

What did Inwoo really want? To just play with his feelings? Fuck up his head and his heart?

He couldn't bring himself to send a response.


Dongsik sits at his desk, pretending to work, while keeping one eye out for the lunch list.

He's actually angry. Angry, frustrated, and exhausted with the whole situation. He's had it. Part of him hopes to be assigned to eat alone, just so Inwoo will invite him to join. So they can talk. Clear the air? Whatever that even means anymore.

The other part of him wants to slam his keyboard against the wall at the mere thought of seeing Inwoo's face. Because what even is this? What are they doing here?

One moment Inwoo is staring at him like he's the only thing worth looking at. Saying things that leave no room for confusion. Like he wants him. Like he means it. Full-on flirting, eyes lingering, voice low, standing too close, smiling like there's a secret between them.

And Dongsik, the fucking idiot that he is, lets himself believe it.

And then the next day, Inwoo barely looks at him. Says almost nothing. Acts like none of it happened. Like Dongsik imagined the whole thing.

It's infuriating. It's humiliating.

Honestly, he's not sure if he wants to kiss him or throw a stapler at his beautiful, smug face. Possibly both.

He keeps telling himself he needs distance. That if Inwoo won't give him clarity, then he has to walk away from this. But some traitorous part of him keeps holding out for an answer. A real one. This constant emotional whiplash is tearing him apart.

He is not scheduled for lunch alone, he gets lunch with Mi-Joo and Jeong-A.

After lunch, Dongsik drops back into his chair, drained. He takes a sip of his coffee cup. He puts down the almost full cup while focusing on the screen.

"Aish!" He has managed to spill some coffee on his desk, luckily nothing has gotten on the keyboard or himself. He gets up and runs to get some tissue paper.

Inside the break room, Inwoo is standing next to the coffee machine. He just stands and stares at the coffee cup in front of him. Dongsik stops in his tracks. His first instinct is to run out, but he freezes. He's too late to slip out unnoticed, Inwoo's eyes are already on him. 

He notices Inwoo's hair; it's not aggressively perfect today. No smugly polished look. There's strands falling down his forehead, slightly messy. And he looks... tired. Like he hasn't slept all night, maybe because he's been busy plotting the murder of Dongsik's heart.

His instinct is to ask if he's okay, but he has to be strong now. Dongsik doesn't want to look at him anymore.

"Hi," Inwoo says, almost in a whisper.

Dongsik doesn't answer, doesn't meet his eyes. He goes straight to get the tissue paper on the kitchen counter. He is about to storm out, dramatic exit fully intended, when he feels a hand close around his lower arm. The grip is surprisingly firm, almost like Inwoo's trying to stop a hostage from escaping. Which isn't wrong.

He glares down at the offending hand, scowling, then turns to glare at its owner with all the displeasure he can muster.

Which, unfortunately, isn't much. Because it's Inwoo. Even now, when Dongsik is actively trying to be furious, the man has the audacity to look beautifully exhausted and unnecessarily attractive.

The grip loosens, just barely, but Inwoo still doesn't let go. They stand there in silence, just staring at each other with blank expressions. Like it's the world's most awkward staring contest.
Why isn't Inwoo saying anything? Why is he just standing there, holding his arm like it means nothing and everything at the same time?

Dongsik feels his patience snap. Where is that stapler when he needs it? "Let. Go. Off. Me."

The words come out sharper than expected, stern and surprisingly commanding. Dongsik yanks his arm back, harder than necessary, more dramatic than necessary. But also kind of satisfying.

Especially when Inwoo blinks at him, visibly confused. He glances down at his own hand, staring at it in surprise. As if he's only just realized he had Dongsik in his grasp, holding on for dear life.

Dongsik doesn't wait. He spins on his heel and storms out. Maybe a bit theatrical, but rightfully so. He feels guilty, but the cold, impersonal message from Inwoo still stings. He's annoyed with the never-ending mindfuck.

He's fully aware that he might be overreacting, but he's really pissed off right now. He just wants to get away from him.

Back at his desk, he wipes up the coffee spill. As he tosses the tissue paper, he comes face to face with Inwoo again, who's just entered the office. Dongsik doesn't want to look at him, but his eyes betray him.

"Got five minutes?" Inwoo asks and suddenly every eye in the room is on them. Dongsik can't ignore his boss. Not now, not here.

"Yes, of course, Seo. Sir," Dongsik responds, his tone laced with subtle dissatisfaction.

Inwoo looks momentarily puzzled before nodding toward Kong's former office. Dongsik catches the unspoken cue. There's a weight at his back, the watchful eyes of his colleagues.

Inside the glass-walled office, Inwoo remains standing, so Dongsik does the same. He avoids meeting Inwoo's gaze, finding the floor very fascinating.

"Are you... Is something wrong?" Inwoo's voice carries an unfamiliar uncertainty. An oddity, as Inwoo is never uncertain.
 
Reluctantly, Dongsik lifts his eyes to meet Inwoo's.

For a moment, he considers confessing everything. Laying it all bare. Putting himself out of his misery and ending these games.

I like you. I want to be with you.

But he doesn't. Inwoo is his boss. Freezing him out feels cruel, but the alternative feels too dangerous. He doesn't even know if Inwoo shares these feelings or if he's the only one with romantic inclinations. 

God, I'm such an idiot, he thinks.

"Uhm. I... I'm just, I'm a little tired today," he says, still looking at Inwoo. Trying to read his expression, but he can't. As usual.

"I see. I didn't mean to grab you in the kitchen. Or. I did, but not that hard. I hope it didn't hurt?" Inwoo's face is completely neutral now.

Dongsik just gives a small shake of his head, so Inwoo goes on. "I got your message while I was having dinner at Chung-Hyeon's. Uh, my father's. My reply ended up sounding a bit less engaging than I'd intended," he takes a step closer to Dongsik.

Dongsik, for his part, takes a step back and stares hard at him.

"Right," he replies flatly. He decides it's a lousy excuse. Hell, he's not even trying.

"Are you mad at me?"
Over the weekend, Inwoo seems to have adopted a whole new personality, he sounds sad and concerned. His usual self-confidence is nowhere to be found. Like Inwoo is the insecure one now, and Dongsik's the one in control.

Dongsik feels bad for him, but he's not going to let him off the hook so easily.

"You know what? Yeah, I am mad at you. You're so hot and cold, it's exhausting! Would it have killed you to sound even remotely warm in that message? Like... God forbid you show the bare minimum of human feeling. Or is that too much to ask from someone like you?" Dongsik's words land hard, laced with bitterness he didn't even know he'd been carrying.

He regrets the sharpness of his words the second they leave his mouth. But the anger's still there. Hold on to it, he tells himself. Don't let him get away with this behavior.

"Wow, Dongsik. That was a bit harsh. I didn't think you'd dare talk to me like that. To your boss," Inwoo says, raising an eyebrow, a ghost of a smirk tugging at his lips. Like he's already regained control. Like none of this matters.

"Maybe I'm tired of never knowing which version of you I'm going to get. One minute you're kind. The next; cold and rude. Manipulative. Like this. I'm done putting up with that kind of bullshit," Dongsik crosses his arms tightly over his chest.

Why the hell is he talking to Inwoo like this?

"Look at you," Inwoo lets the short sentence come out smooth, with something close to amusement. He tilts his head slightly, just enough smugness to cover the crack in his armor.

He must think this is funny. Fuck off.

"All fired up. Is this you setting boundaries? Cute. Really cute," he chuckles.

His eyes trail slowly down Dongsik's face, then lower. He doesn't hide it. Doesn't pretend. He's watching. Deliberately. And it’s not just condescending, it's flirtatious.

It feels like a slap.

Dongsik feels small. Feels stupid. Cute? No way. He's not ready to back down.

"You think this is funny, don't you? That all this, the way you act... the way you look at me doesn't have consequences?" Dongsik doesn't wait for Inwoo to answer. The words spill out, urgent and bitter. "You... flirt when it suits you. Then you go cold. Give just enough to keep me hooked, and then act like it never meant a damn thing."

Dongsik turns to leave, but no more than two steps in, Inwoo's voice cuts through the air, low and commanding, and just a little too desperate.

"Don’t walk away from me. Please."

Slowly, Dongsik turns his head, forcing his eyes to stay cold and unreadable. Then he faces Inwoo fully, his expression blank now, Dongsik's face is stripped of everything except quiet contempt and a flash of something darker beneath. 

Why am I like this? What's wrong with me, he thinks.

"Or else? What are you going to do? Hold me back by force?" Dongsik's voice stays steady and controlled. He's succeeding in keeping calm.

Silence falls between them.

It's that awkward staring contest again. Inwoo takes a step forward. Dongsik meets him, stepping closer in return. Not submissive, not afraid. Dongsik doesn't blink.

Without warning, Inwoo leans in and grabs his wrists, pulling him in. Too close. Chest pressed to chest. The air between them shifts. It's charged.

Dongsik stiffens, eyes flaring with disbelief. It feels forbidden. And fucking hot. His heart pounds so fast and frantic, it's a painful, restless rhythm. Why does Inwoo have this effect on him? And why the hell is this office made of glass?

Inwoo says nothing. His grip tightens just enough. Whatever he feels, it doesn't show. Then, just as suddenly, he lets go. Like he's realizing what he's done a split second too late. He glances over Dongsik's shoulder.

"Dongsik... Your colleagues are staring at us," Inwoo's voice is clipped and tightly controlled.

Like he's shocked. Like he's the one who got grabbed.

"Good. Let them see what it looks like when a boss crosses the line. To see a boss who oversteps his boundaries. Why did you grab me?"

"You're right. I shouldn't have... I'm sorry," Inwoo's eyes fill with something close to shame. He looks sincere, almost vulnerable.

Dongsik watches, breath uneven, heartbeat still racing.

Why does he like it when Inwoo grabs him like that?

Still holding Inwoo's gaze, Dongsik steps back and grabs the door handle. Every muscle in his body is begging for motion. For escape. And yet, part of him wants Inwoo to stop him, to grab him again. To reach out, pull him close.

Just as he starts to push the handle down, Inwoo's voice cuts sharply through the air once more. "Wait! I'm sorry. Wait. I... I didn't know how else to stop you. Please. Don't be angry."

"Okay? That's it then?" Dongsik holds his ground, waiting and silently daring Inwoo to say more.

Inwoo shifts on his feet, eyes darting. Glass walls, floor, anywhere but directly at Dongsik. Then he finally directs all his focus back to him.

"This isn't how I normally act. I don't grab people like that. This isn't how I should talk to people," he pauses pointedly, "...especially not you. I'm sorry," his tone is measured and composed, but there is an underlying softness.

"Especially not me?" Dongsik's voice is barely above a whisper.

"Right. You didn't deserve that. Any of it. I've been awful to you. Cold, rude... I've been an idiot. But I don't want to keep acting like that... I don't want to hurt you."

A pause.

"I was frustrated. With myself, not you. I let it bleed into the way I spoke to you, and I shouldn't have. I know better. I'm sorry. I truly am. Not just as your boss, but as me. As your... friend."

Something shifts in Dongsik's chest, something warm. Reluctant but undeniable. He has to ask. Dive in headfirst, no turning back. He needs to know what this is. "What are you trying to do? With... me?"

Silence. The question hangs heavy between them.

"I'm..." Inwoo begins and yet again, he takes a step closer to him.

Dongsik fights the instinct to step back, and instead steps forward, matching him. Now they stand toe to toe. Too close, again.

Neither of them speaks, they don't have to. It's all in the way they look at each other, like they're both one breath away from crossing the line they've been circling for far too long.

Behind them, Dongsik colleagues must be having a gossip-party.

He hates the glass-walls with a burning passion right now.

"I had a... really good time with you on Friday. I just wanted you to know. I guess I'm just trying to say that, but I didn't quite manage it over text," Inwoo says softly.

For once, there's no smirk, no calculation. Just a man who is completely off-script. The anger and frustration in Dongsik's chest dissolve almost instantly, replaced by the flutter of something far more dangerous. Hope. That stubborn flicker he's been trying to smother.

Why am I so weak?

"You did? I didn't make you uncomfortable or something?" Dongsik asks.

He wants, no aches, to pull Inwoo into a hug, to close the little distance and just feel him. But he can't. Not here. Not with their coworkers openly watching the emotional fucking shitshow unfolding behind glass walls.

"Uncomfortable?" Inwoo repeats gently. "No, of course not. I was the one acting inappropriate. I always have a good time when we hang out, Dongsik."

Oh.

"I really like... spending time with you," Dongsik says, and for the first time in this glass prison, he feels a blush creeping up on him.

"Yeah? I like spending time with you too. Especially outside of work," Inwoo's smile is almost shy and soft.

So cute.

Their hands are so close. Just inches apart. Not touching, but aware. Every nerve seems to lean toward the possibility. Inwoo glances down, just for a heartbeat, at Dongsik's mouth. Then back up. Their eyes lock again.

I fucking hate those glass walls. If they weren't here, I'd kiss him, right now, without thinking. I wouldn't stop.

"But... you're angry?" Inwoo's voice is returning to normal. He looks a little unsure, which Dongsik finds strangely charming.

"I was. But it's fine now. I'm fine. How... how are you?" he feels relief loosening something in his chest. It's strange how quickly the anger dissipated. But then again, Dongsik was never one to hold onto anger for long.

A shrill ring cuts through the moment, coming from Inwoo's pocket, making him jump a little.

"Ah, sorry, I have to take this,” he pulls out his phone, frowning. "I'm tied up in meetings the rest of the day, but we... we'll talk more. Soon."

He offers Dongsik an apologetic smile before walking out. As he answers the call, his voice shifts to sharp and bitter.

Ji-Hun, Dongsik thinks. It has to be Ji-Hun.

Chapter Text

Thursday, June 6, 2019

INWOO

He starts his workday the same way he has ever since becoming team leader, checking that everyone's logged in and reviewing the previous day's numbers and reports. He's surprised to see that Dongsik is the only one missing.

Still, it's 08:12 am, so maybe he's just running a little late.

He hasn't seen Dongsik since that day, the conversation in Kong's old office. Too many meetings. Too much noise. Too many excuses. Honestly, the distance has been a relief. A temporary pause from the emotional wreckage. He's been busy enough not to think too hard.

But that won't last. He knows it won't.

Because at some point, inevitably, he's going to have to see Dongsik outside of work. He needs that. More than he's willing to admit. More than he should.

He keeps telling himself to stay away. To lie low. Be careful. Dongsik deserves better than this, better than him. Someone stable, someone kind. Not a man who's spent most of his life trying to suppress the urge to ruin everything he touches.

It's cruel. To even think about pulling Dongsik into this mess. Into him.

Because what kind of monster wants someone to love them when they're already know they're unlovable? But the thing is, he can't stop. He can't shut it off. He wants him with a force that borders on violence.

It's like he woke up one day to find that he belongs to Dongsik. He's there in every breath, every thought. He's there in his very soul.

Of course, he knows he should walk away. He knows he's selfish. But the idea of letting go? Of watching Dongsik move on and be happy with someone else?

No. Absolutely not. Over his dead body.

He exhales slowly, staring at the words and numbers on screen in front of him but seeing nothing.

Fine.

Let it burn. Let it fucking happen.

He's done pretending he can manage this. Done acting like he's above it. Like he can rationalize his way out of something this deep, this raw. Because the truth is... it's already too late.

He belongs to Dongsik in a way that defies logic. Dongsik belongs to him.

There's no one else. There will never be anyone else. As if the universe put Dongsik here for him and him alone. And he'll never let anyone else have him.

There's a brutal kind of peace in surrendering to it. No more fighting. No more denying.

He leans back in his chair, a smile tugging at his lips, and lets the thought settle in his chest.

Of course this is right. Real. And Dongsik wants him. How could he not?

That clumsy, nervous energy isn't nothing. It's tension. It's want. Dongsik's too far gone and in love with him. But Dongsik is too careful. Too shy. Too scared of him, maybe. As he should be. But fear can't hide desire.

It's only up to Inwoo now.
He's the one who’s held the reins. He's the one who's kept his distance. Who's decided, again and again, not to reach out. To not... act on it.

But Inwoo doesn't want to pretend anymore. He's seen the way Dongsik's eyes follow him when he walks by. The way he practically vibrates with the need to be chosen, but never dares to ask.

Please. He knows.

If he turned to him now, reached out, said the word, Dongsik would come running. Without question. Without hesitation. Because he wants this just as badly.

Dongsik's just waiting for permission. Waiting for him.

And Inwoo's done ignoring he can resist something that already belongs to him.

He thinks back to Monday, how Dongsik torn himself out of his grip, his eyes blazing and voice sharp with anger. How he'd had the nerve to imply Inwoo was acting like an asshole. That's how Inwoo had interpreted it, at least. Damn. It had been so fucking hot.

There was something intoxicating about seeing Dongsik like that, furious and unfiltered, not holding back. The defiance, the fire in his eyes. It had done something to Inwoo, something immediate and physical. He hadn't been able to stop himself.

The part of him that liked control, that liked pushing buttons, it blurred with something softer. And in that moment, he couldn't separate the version of himself he was trying to be from the version that just wanted to tease Dongsik until he snapped.

And he had snapped. Beautifully.

He couldn't tell the difference anymore between the part of him that was trying to be professional, and the part of him that ached to grab Dongsik by the waist, press him up against the glass, and kiss him hard.

Slow, possessive, and desperate.

Move against him, rub till the ache went away, or they shattered into a million pieces. Something that would've ruined them both and felt so fucking good. And he would have if it weren't for those bitch-ass glass walls.

He'd gone home that night so worked up he could barely think. Couldn't get Dongsik's voice out of his head, his pretty face, and the way his body had tensed when he touched him.

He'd jerked off with a kind of intensity that was just pathetic and needy; fast, rough, like it was the only thing keeping him from losing his mind. And still, it hadn’t been enough.


At exactly 8:30 am, his phone rings.

"Seo," he answers curtly, eyes still on the screen. Dongsik hasn't logged in yet. He frowns slightly, checking again.

"Good morning, sir," Mi-Joo says. "I hope I'm not disturbing you. I just wanted to inform you that Dongsik hasn't arrived at work today. Both Seok-Hyun and I have tried calling him, but his phone appears to be off; it goes straight to voicemail."

"Thank you for letting me know," he replies, a tight edge creeping into his tone. "Has this happened before? Him being this late?"

"Oh, no, never. Never more than five minutes at most. And even then, he always sends one of us a message. That's why I thought I should inform you, I was a little concerned."

"I appreciate it. I'll follow up," Inwoo ends the call and immediately pulls up his contacts. A cold knot settles low in his chest.

He calls Dongsik. For a few seconds, he thinks he's getting through, there's a click, a small pause, then the familiar voice kicks in.
 
'Hallo? Hello!? Halllo-oo? Ha, fooled you! Dongsik speaking. I'm not available right now. Which is a good thing since I'm chronically on my phone. Maybe I’m doing something productive? Or just napping? Leave a message, and I promise to feel guilty enough to call you back! Beep with love!'

Inwoo stares at his phone, deadpan, as the laugh echoes in his ear. Despite himself, he smiles. Stupid voicemail. Beep with love? So stupid, but cute.

The smile vanishes quickly. He hangs up and glares at the screen. His chest tightens.

He's just oversleeping. That's all.

And yet...
He thinks about that note. That damn suicide note.

He rubs a hand over his face, annoyed. Get a grip. You're spiraling. But the knot in his stomach twist tighter. Something doesn't feel right, and it's driving him mad. God, he's being hysterical. And he knows it.

He calls again. Straight to voicemail. Of course. What the hell?

He's not dead, he didn't suddenly take his own life. That's not where this is going. He's not being bullied anymore, not drowning under pressure. He has his family, he has Bo-Kyung. He's been happy lately.

He's probably just sleeping in. People oversleep all the time. It happens every day. It's not a crisis. His phone rings, sharp and sudden. He jumps, heart lurching. He answers so fast he doesn't even register the name on the screen.

"Hello? Dongsik?!" His own voice startles him, high-pitched and too loud. He hopes he didn't just scare the life out of Dongsik. Ironically enough.

"What? No. It's me," Ji-Hun comes through the line.

Inwoo exhales sharply, already irritated. "Oh. What do you want?"

"I can't make the meeting with Sales at 2:30 today, can you cover it?"

Inwoo resist the urge to sigh again, instead settling for an eye roll.

"Actually, I can't-" he starts, but Ji-Hun cuts him off.
"Yeah, you can. I already told the President you'd handle it. You know how disappointed he gets when things don't go as planned. But whatever. More importantly, what the hell is going on with you and Dongsik?"

Inwoo looks at his phone, considers hanging up, but doesn't. "Dongsik still hasn't shown up. He was supposed to start half an hour ago, and I keep getting his voicemail every time I call. I'm a little... worried," he admits, surprised at how genuine he is.

Which makes Ji-Hun's laugh on the other end even more infuriating. "You? Worried? Dongsik must give amazing head for you to care this much."

Inwoo doesn't even think this time, he hangs up. Damn Ji-Hun.

He swipes over to the company database, quickly pulling up Dongsik's employee file and scrolling to the emergency contacts. Two names: Jong-Cheol and Bo-kyung.

Without hesitation, Inwoo dials the number listed for Dongsik's father. It rings. And rings. Far too long.

Just as he's about to give up and try Bo-kyung's number, the line clicks.

A familiar, steady voice answers. "Yes, hello? This is Jong-Cheol speaking."

"Sir, this is Seo Inwoo. Dongsik's colleague."

"Oh? Is everything alright?" there's a flicker of concern, or at least confusion, when he speaks.

"I'm sure it's nothing serious," Inwoo is trying to sound calm and unaffected. "Dongsik was scheduled to start half an hour ago, and he hasn't arrived yet. I've tried calling a few times, but I keep getting his voicemail. He's probably just overslept, but-"
He trails off, aware that no matter how relaxed and professional he tries to sound, it's not working.

There's a short silence on the line.

Jong-Cheol responds, reassuring and efficient. "I'll head over there right away. I have a spare key. He's always had a talent for sleeping through anything, probably just in dreamland. I'll give you a call once I've spoken to him."

Inwoo thanks him politely and ends the call with the usual formalities. But the tightness in his chest doesn't go away. Even if Jong-Cheol sounds calm, Inwoo can't shake the feeling that something is wrong.

That damn note.


DONGSIK

Dongsik doesn't question Inwoo lying beside him, gently stroking his back. He doesn't even question the soft kiss pressed to his lips, light and lingering. It just feels natural.

Like something they've always done. Like something they're supposed to do.

Lying there, faces close, breathing the same air. It feels perfect. Just right.

Dongsik thinks he could stay like this forever. Why would he want anything else?

Suddenly Inwoo pulls back. His eyes sharp, dark and distant. "What are you doing?" he asks harshly.

The shift is so abrupt it takes his breath away.

"What do you mean? I'm kissing you! Why aren't you kissing me back, Inwoo?" Dongsik doesn't understand why he's angry.

"You can't just lie here!" he glares at him. His hand is tugging at Dongsik's arm, Dongsik can't see it, only feel it. Everything is hazy and off. What's happening? He doesn't want Inwoo to be angry.

Dongsik's eyes flutter open. Someone saying again "you can't just lie here."

But this time the voice isn't Inwoo's. It's his fathers.

He opens his eyes fully and nearly jumps out of his skin, Jong-Cheol's face is just inches from his own.

Dongsik lets out a dramatic scream, his heart jerking violently in his chest. It hurts, really hurts. Like it's ready to escape.

"Sorry! But you don't wake up when people talk to you normally! I had to shake and pull your arm to get any reaction."

His father is backing up a little.

Dongsik blinks at him, utterly disoriented. Why is his father here? What's going on? He frowns, trying to piece things together. Wait! It's a weekday, isn't it? Wednesday? No... Thursday?

"What... what's going on? What time is it?" he mumbles, voice thick with sleep as he looks around.

He reaches for his phone and taps the screen. Nothing. Completely black and dead.

"It's exactly 9:15 am. I got a call from your boss a little while ago asking about you."

"Inwoo?" Dongsik asks dumbly, like there's a chance he's somehow gotten a different boss overnight.

"Yes, that's the one. The one you were dreaming about," Jong-Cheol grins.

Dongsik's face is instantly bright red. He buries his face in his hands with a groan.

"Appaaaa!" he groan-mumbles dramatically, voice muffled against his palms.

His father just laughs harder. "He called and sounded so worried, I barely recognized his voice! Thought it was a prank call at first. So serious. Like someone reporting a crime."

Dongsik wishes the mattress would open up and swallow him whole. That would be ideal. Peaceful and eternal.

He taps his phone again out of sheer desperation, but the screen is, of course, still dead. A black, traitors void. With a heavy sigh, he plugs it into the charger.

"My phone died," he mutters, focusing hard on the device instead of the fact that his father knows he was dreaming about his boss.

Jong-Cheol hands over his own phone. "Call Inwoo from mine. I told him I'd get back to him as soon as I found you, but something tells me he'd rather hear your voice."

Dongsik stares at the phone like it's a live bomb. "I... Oh my god. I can't. I sound horrible! My voice is all weird and sleepy and emotional. He's going to think I had some kind of breakdown."

"You sound just fine. Maybe a little in love. Now call him."

"Appa!" Dongsik rolls his eyes and grabs the phone his father hands him. He spots Inwoo's number in the recent calls list and taps it.

It doesn't even ring once before he picks up.

"Mr Yook!"

Dongsik freezes for a second. His father might actually be right. Inwoo's voice is tight, clearly laced with worry. Not that Dongsik wants him to be stressed, but... part of him can't help but feel something warm and fluttery in his chest. Inwoo had been worried, just because he didn't show up for work on time.

"Yes. Or uhm, I mean. It's-it's me. Dongsik," he says awkwardly, glancing sideways to catch his father giving him a curious look.

"Are you okay? I was so- I mean... I was afraid something had happened. Are you okay?"

"Uhm! Sorry! Yes. Yeah. I'm okay, I was just dreaming. Ehm! Sleeping, I mean. Sleeping. The alarm didn't go off because my phone died. I'm really, really sorry! I'll get there as fast as I can," he rubs his eyes and tries to gather the bits of his scattered dignity.

"Don't worry. The most important thing is that you are safe. Okay. I meant to say okay. You don't need to rush. Just come when you're ready," Inwoo sounds calmer now, but still soft. Still different.

It makes Dongsik's heart do that idiotic, swooping thing again. Inwoo sounds relieved. Had he really been that worried about him?

Dongsik ends the call and feels the blush rise again when his father shoots him that knowing look.

"So... you two really like each other, huh?" Jong-Cheol teases, and Dongsik wants to disappear on the spot.

"Dad, it's way too early for this! Stop it! But... um, I didn't talk in my sleep, right?" Dongsik pulls the covers up just over his chin, dreading the answer.

"Oh, just something like... 'Why aren't you kissing me back, Inwoo?' Haha!" his father tries to stifle his laughter. Sensing Dongsik's discomfort, he quickly leaves the room. Giving him some much-needed privacy.

Oh my god, he can even make a fool out of himself while sleeping? That's a special kind of talent.

Taking Inwoo's advice to heart, Dongsik doesn't rush. But he's definitely not taking his sweet time either.

"I can drive you to work when you're ready," his father calls from the living room.


Wednesday, June 19, 2019

DONGSIK

He feels the weight pressing heavier with each passing day. Weeks have gone by without them really being together, no real time outside of work.

Sure, they've seen each other almost daily. At work. Shared lunches, stolen moments between meetings, and yet, it's never enough.

He wants more, needs more.

Inwoo flirts, but then pulls back, reserved and careful, as if reeling in something that dared to drift too far.

Dongsik clings to those subtle signs, trying to decode their meaning, but doubts keeps creeping in. The question gnaws at him relentlessly: does Inwoo only want to be friends? After all, he has used those words, 'as your friend'.

He longs for clarity, craves it, but the thought of asking outright terrifies him. Because what if the answer is simple?

And what if it's not the one he wants to hear?


"I've met someone. Someone I can really fall for. Well, actually... I already have. I'm in love."

Mi-Joo doesn't meet his gaze as she says it. She nervously twists the chopsticks between her fingers, her cheeks faintly pink.

"Really? That's amazing! Where did you meet him or her?" Dongsik wonders.

Mi-Joo blush deepens. She confesses it's a 'he', that they met through a mutual friend, and they've only seen each other five times.

"It feels ridiculous to say I'm in love so soon, but it just feels so..."

"... right?" Dongsik finishes for her. She nods, a small smile breaking through.

Dongsik hearts ache with the truth he can't voice, that he's falling too. Hard, for someone he can't openly admit to her.

Mi-Joo may be the closest person to him at work, but Dongsik knows that if she finds out something, it won't be long before Jeong-A mysteriously knows too. And when that happens, everyone in the department will know within minutes.

They sit together in the cafeteria, eating lunch, but now it's time to head back to the office. As they walk toward the elevator, Mi-Joo eagerly talks about the man she likes, and Dongsik can't help but find it absolutely adorable. He knows Mi-Joo had been through a tough divorce a couple of years ago and had sworn off love, but maybe miracles do happen.

Standing side by side in the elevator, Dongsik's phone buzzes in his pocket. He pulls it out, and the screen flashes:  'SEO INWOO IS CALLING'

His heart skips a beat, and a stupid little inhale slips out before he quickly shoves the phone into his pocket.

"Huh? What was that?" Mi-Joo looks at him confused.

A few others in the elevator glance his way, curious, but Dongsik just lets out a nervous, silly little laugh.

"Oh, uh, it's just... Bo-kyung! She called me, but she knows I'm at work, so I don't know what she's up to. I'll call her in a bit," he blushes hard at his own lie.

Mi-Joo just nods, clearly believing him. She has no reason to doubt.

As they step out of the elevator, Dongsik offers to grab Mi-Joo a coffee, and she smiles and accepts.

Making his way to the break room, Dongsik listens for voices, hoping to see Inwoo. But his hopes sink when he spots the wrong Seo: Ji-Hun is standing by the coffee machine, chatting loudly with an older man.

Dongsik recognizes the other man immediately: Chung-Hyeon, Ji-Hun and Inwoo's father. The chairman of Daehan Securities. He's rarely here.

"Oh, look, here comes the man of the hour!" Ji-Hun exclaims, his voice dripping with mock surprise.

Dongsik glances behind him, half-expecting to see someone else, but no one is there.

"I meant you, Yook Dongsik. We were just talking about you," Ji-Hun continues, his tone heavy with condescension. Chung-Hyeon stands beside him, arms crossed. His expression undeniably critical.

A wave of heat rises to Dongsik's face, his hands clammy. He wishes he could disappear into the floor.

"E-excuse me, sir? About me?" His voice cracks slightly, betraying his unease. His phone vibrates in his pocket. A text? Perhaps from Inwoo? He dares not to check.

"You see, there's been a similar... bullying incident at Kong's new job," Ji-Hun's eyes gleaming with something between amusement and disdain. "We were just talking about it. And then, of course, you came up in the conversation since you-" he is interrupted by his father.

"Since you were so... affected by it," Chung-Hyeon interjects sharply, his gaze is piercing. "How are you doing now? Are you doing better after Kong Chan-Seok got fired?"

Dongsik's stomach churns. He wants to shrink away, to escape this interrogation.

"Y-yes, I'm doing much better, sir," he stammers, his face burning with shame.

"So, you think Inwoo is doing an okay job?" Chung-Hyeon presses, his voice is hard and skeptical.

Dongsik hesitates, caught off guard. "Yeah. Yes, sir. Seo does a great job! He's very... skilled," he says, and hopes his blush isn't too obvious.

The weight of their scrutiny makes him feel exposed.

"Good. He fought hard for that team leader position, argued that it was crucial for the 'team'. That boy, always messing with things he has no business involving himself in. He has a thing for the small and insignificant details," every word from Chung-Hyeon is laced with something bitter.

Dongsik forces a sheepish smile, trying to not look guilty. He suddenly feels transparent, like they can see right through him. See the way his pulse jumps at the mention of Inwoo's name.

"Yes, sir. Erm, uhm. I was just... I was actually going to get coffee," He keeps his eyes low, terrified they'll pick up on something. He feels like an intruder.

The two men don't move. Ji-Hun finally turns, places a cup beneath the machine.

"Black?" he asks, watching Dongsik like he's trying to read him. Dongsik just nods. The machine hums, the smell of coffee is slowly filling the awkward silence.

Ji-Hun hands him the cup. Dongsik takes it with both hands like it's a peace offering he didn't ask for.

"Th-thank you so much. Ehm, sir," he mutters, taking a small step back.

He's almost free when Ji-Hun clears his throat.
"You know... You can always come to me if Inwoo's being a little too enthusiastic. He's fucking intense. Not everyone can handle him. I'm the nicer brother, anyway," he says, slick with mock concern.

Dongsik has to resist the urge to throw the hot coffee in his face. It's a stupid impulse, he knows that, but something about Ji-Hun smug, entitled expression makes his skin crawl. He doesn't even know why he dislikes him so much. Maybe it's because he calls himself 'the nicer brother'. Or maybe just because Inwoo clearly despises him.

"Seo... He's not intense. He's actually very... uhm, kind and thoughtful. He helped me. Helped me a lot. He's-" Dongsik cuts himself off, realizing he's rambling.

Both Ji-Hun and Chung-Hyeon burst into laughter, loud and hyena-like. Full, open mockery.

Ji-Hun shakes his head, chuckling. "Wow. You've got it bad, huh? Careful, my brother tends to break the... things he likes."

Chung-Hyeon speaks again, voice flat and dry. "Well. I guess we all show poor judgement sometimes. Some more than others."

Dongsik can't breathe for a second. He clutches the coffee tighter, bows stiffly, and turns to leave.

"Relax Yook Dongsik," Ji-Hun calls after him. "I'm just joking. Don't be so sensitive."

Dongsik doesn't answer. Out in the hallway, he exhales shakily, trying to ground himself. Imagine having them as in-laws.

In-laws! Jesus Christ. He really needs to get a grip.

Safely back in the office, he hands Mi-Joo the coffee cup.

"Thank you so much, you're so sweet! You were gone for a little while, did you get to call Bo-kyung?" she sips her coffee happily.

"Oh, erm, no, I stopped and talked to... someone in the kitchen."

Mi-Joo is about to say something, but he interrupts her.
"So! I'll just call Bo-Kyung now, and I'll help you with the assignment we're going to write, okay?"

He takes his phone out of his pocket and sees the missed call from Inwoo, as well as a message from him.

'Hey Dongsik:) Can you call me when you have time?'

A smiley?!

He quickly looks up, hoping Mi-Joo didn't notice the goofy grin spreading across his face.

Dongsik runs and enters the glass-enclosed office, ensuring the door clicks shut behind him. He dials Inwoo's number, his heart is racing in his chest.

"Dongsiiik," Inwoo murmurs softly, sending a wave of warmth through him. His cheeks flush at the mere sound.

He's really in deep shit.

"Inwoo! Erm, hey. You... y-you called, but I had lunch, erm, so I couldn't answer you, but erm, yeah! I-I also picked up coffee for Mi-Joo, it took a while to call you back! I, erm," he wants to slap himself for his nonsensical babbling but manages to hold back.

"I see. That's okay, no worries," Inwoo says, and Dongsik hears what sounds like a smile in his voice.  "I'm working until 4:30 pm today, but I was wondering if you-" Inwoo pauses, and Dongsik holds his breath, anxiety and anticipation swirling in his stomach.

"I was wondering if you wanted to... hang out? With me. Maybe... go for a walk?"

Hang out! With him! Together? Yes?!

But it hits Dongsik, he promised to walk Bo-kyung's parent's dogs today. And Inwoo doesn't like dogs. Maybe he's even a little scared of them, though he'd never admit it.

"Oh, I'd really love to, but I need to look after Mihi and Micha, uhm, that's-"

"Ah, the dogs? I remember them," there's a tiny edge of disappointment in Inwoo's tone.

Dongsik's heart flutters wildly. It feels like a door is about to slam shut, and he's desperate to keep it open.

"Yeah, that's right! But I'll pick them up right after work and walk them in the park nearby, so, uhm, we could meet there after you're done, if you want? But if not, I get it, you don't like dogs. But they're really sweet! Super obedient, I promise they won't bother you!"

He waits, hoping Inwoo won’t say no.

He is met by silence. Had Inwoo hung up?

"Hello? Inwoo?"

"Oh. Okay. Sure. Yeah, I'll meet you there, after 4:30 sometime. Where in the park should we meet?"

Chapter Text

INWOO

He spots Dongsik standing near the edge of the park, the two small dogs circling his feet. The moment Dongsik sees him, his whole face lights up, like the sun just came out for him and no one else. He lifts his hand in a stupid wave, his eyes crinkling as he smiles.

Inwoo's chest aches. Why does it hurt just to look at him now? He hates the lack of control, and how easily Dongsik's presence knocks the air out of his lungs. He tries to keep his expression cool and composed, but when Dongsik comes closer, he can't stop the smile coming. Helplessly.

Dongsik's wearing a light blue jacket today. Underneath it, a pale shirt peeks out at the collar. His pants are black and neat. His hair is as fluffy as ever, a little messy in the breeze, like he barely tried but still looks perfect.

There's something in the way he stands, just slightly off-balance with the dogs tugging around him, that makes Inwoo want to reach out and steady him. Or maybe just hold him close.

But they don't hug, don't touch. Even though Inwoo wants to.

One of the dogs, the smaller one with pink ribbons on its collar, pauses to sniff the air. Inwoo stiffens. Its innocent stare unnerves him, triggers a weird jolt of discomfort. For a split second, he has an irrational urge to kick it, but of course he doesn't. He's clearly not normal. He clenches his jaw and breathes through it.

"Hi! So nice that you wanted to meet us!" Dongsik's giving a soft tug on the leash to pull the dog back to him.

"Of course. Shall we go for a little walk, then?" Inwoo says, a bit unsteady despite his effort to sound calm.

Dongsik nods, and they fall into step down the winding path. It's June, but there's a coolness in the air. Somewhere, birds are chirping lazily in the trees.

Inwoo glances sideways. Dongsik is even prettier in the late afternoon sun. He looks so soft and kind. And beautiful. He wants to tell him that. But instead he just walks beside him, his hands clenched tightly in his pockets.

The park is busy this afternoon, full of people with children who squeal and dogs who bark and sniff. Wandering paths and crossing each other's trajectories. Despite the crowds, Mihi and Micha behave perfectly.

When a stranger and their labrador pause to say hello, Dongsik crouches down and gently guides the dogs back toward him. They obey immediately, not a single bark, just curious tail-wags and shiny eyes.

They've walked a slow circuit through the park, talking about nothing in particular, when Dongsik slows down, and sinks onto a nearby bench beneath a tree. The dogs follow without complaint.

Inwoo hesitates for half a second before sitting beside him, keeping a distance between their thighs. Close enough to feel him, but not touch.

One of the dogs lies down with an exaggerated sigh, tongue lolling out. She's clearly had enough of walking.

"They don't need long walks," Dongsik explains, reaching down to stroke the dog's back. "They get tired pretty quickly. They like to nap more than they like to move."

Inwoo lets out a small laugh, the sound is dry and faint. He doesn't know how to just sit here next to him, and not lean in.

"You're very good with them, Dongsik. You must really love animals."

"Oh, yes! I love animals. Especially dogs. They're so loyal, you know?" Dongsik looks at him with that open and hopeful face.
"What about you? Do you like animals?" His eyes are so sincere, so painfully bright. There's no suspicion there. Just the desire to connect.

Inwoo's mind flashes: the memory of the dog they had when he was a child. The sound of breaking bones. The quiet, final way the earth folded over its body. The kittens next door, that never made it past their first week of being there.

"Well," Inwoo begins. "I'm not... good with animals. Animals don't really like me."
It's easier than admitting the dark truth, how he'd killed animals just for fun.

"But what about cats? You said you're a cat person, right?" Dongsik asks with innocent curiosity.

Inwoo's stomach twists painfully. The memory surges unbidden. How he put a plastic bag over their tiny faces. Suffocating them, and the silence after their struggles stopped.

If Dongsik ever knew, he wouldn't be sitting here, smiling like that and talking to him. Like Inwoo was someone who deserved kindness.

"And I don't believe that they don't like you," Dongsik's eyes meet his with unwavering sincerity.

"Because that's impossible."

"Impossible?" Inwoo echoes, confused.

"Yes. It's impossible not to like you. You're very easy to like," Dongsik's cheeks flushing slightly.

Easy to like?

The words hit him like a cruel joke. The real him, the part no one knows, is far from easy to like.

A psychopath. A fucking monster.

That compliment is unbearable. It's too pure, too kind for someone like him. It's undeserved.

"I'm not. I'm not likeable at all. I'm a terrible person," he huffs bitterly. "I... I killed..."

I first killed a dog, later two kittens. And I wanted to kill you.

"That's bullshit," Dongsik's voice is calm but resolute. "You didn't kill your mother. She died because of complications during childbirth, because of something beyond your control! You can't keep blaming yourself for that."

His eyes rest on him, filled with tenderness.
"You're a good person, Inwoo."

For a moment, everything feels unsteady.

You're wrong, Inwoo wants to scream.

He blinks rapidly, trying to clear the sudden wetness in his eyes, desperate to hide the weakness threatening to spill out.

"Inwoo? Is everything okay? Are you crying? Is it something I said?" Dongsik says, filled with concern.

The question cuts through Inwoo's defenses. He snaps, irritated and flustered. "What! No, of course I'm not crying!" he scoffs harshly. But he is indeed sitting here with fucking tears in his eyes.

What the hell is this? Crying, really?

Is it a guilty conscience for the animals that have lost their lives because of him, or is it simply selfish fear? That Dongsik might see right through him and refuse to give him a chance? He's about to change the subject when Dongsik shifts closer, sitting next to him until their thighs touch. The sudden closeness sends a flutter through his heart.

A single tear breaks free, streaming down Inwoo's cheek. He's about to swipe it away angrily, but Dongsik's hand wraps firmly around his. They hold each other's gaze for a few seconds before Dongsik lets go, and Inwoo's hand falls back to his side. Dongsik then gently brushes his jacket sleeve over his cheek.

"About time I got to comfort you too. Now we're even," Dongsik murmurs softly.

Dongsik takes his hand, fingers threading together hesitantly before squeezing gently. The touch unleashes a thousand restless butterflies in Inwoo's chest, their wings beating like drums against his ribs. As if love itself is dancing through his fucking veins.

"Is this okay? Is it okay if I hold your hand?" Dongsik wonders hopefully. Inwoo wants to say; not just okay, never let go of me.

"Yes, it's okay. It's... okay," Inwoo admits, his cheeks heating up.

Dongsik's grip firms, feeling protective. Time seems to slow as they sit in stillness, their hands clasped.

At least, Dongsik speaks. "The way you talk about yourself? That stops here. No more self-loathing, not while I'm around. That's an order. And if you don't follow it, I'll get really mad. Like... scary mad."

Inwoo's heart flutters even more, caught off guard by how perfect Dongsik is.

"And we both know you can get pretty angry," Inwoo teases.

"Oh, you mean the rage behind the glass walls? That was me being civilized. I can really mess you up. Trust me, you don't wanna see the dark side. It's terrifying! But don't worry, I save that side for special occasions," Dongsik grins.

Inwoo laughs as the tension is melting away. "Yeah? Special occasions, huh? Guess I better behave then."

"Or else..." Dongsik says with a little wink, squeezing Inwoo's hand tighter.

"Damn Dongsik. I'm scared now. You're evil," Inwoo's laugh turns into a bashful smile.

"Only for you. You bring out the worst in me. And honestly, I kinda love it."

Inwoo chuckles quietly, then tilts his head slightly as he replies, "Guess I must be special then."

Without thinking, Inwoo leans his head against Dongsik's shoulder, like it's the most natural thing in the world.

Dongsik leans into him instantly. "You are. You are special," he says softly.

It feels surreal, like something fragile and impossible, yet completely right. And in that stillness, surrounded by warmth, it feels safe.

It's Dongsik who breaks the silence again. "I'm going to prove you wrong. That it's impossible not to like you."

He straightens up, the shift in movement prompting Inwoo to do the same. Inwoo looks at him, confused, eyes searching his face.

Dongsik lifts one of the dogs, Inwoo thinks it's Mihi, onto his lap with his free hand. The dog looks up at him with round, black eyes but settles quickly as Dongsik starts gently stroking the fur.

"Are you okay with her being this close?" he asks. Inwoo wants to push the dog off his lap, lay Dongsik down on the bench, and kiss him until the world fades away. But he can't.

"Yes. I'm okay," Inwoo says quietly.

He knows how much this matters to Dongsik, that he can at least tolerate these scruffy little animals. Dongsik slowly slips his fingers out of Inwoo's and takes his hand, placing it gently on Mihi's back. Inwoo lets it rest there, feeling the softness of her fur beneath his palm.

A few seconds pass. He realizes Dongsik is waiting for something. So, with a bit of hesitation, he gives the dog a couple of soft pats. The dog doesn't seem to mind, she just lies there, perfectly content.

"See? She likes you!" Dongsik looks at him triumphantly.

Then he places his hand over Inwoo's, and Inwoo freezes, not because of the dog, but because of that simple, electrifying touch.

He turns to look at Dongsik, and finds him already staring. Eyes hungry, fixed on his lips. That look... there's no mistaking it.

It's here, on a worn-out bench, with a fucking dog between them, that they're going to have their first kiss.

That's a choice.

But Inwoo has to kiss him. Right now. The need is overwhelming, hot, dizzying and pressing. He can't breathe, can't think, can't do anything but stare at Dongsik's pink lips.

He needs him. Right fucking now.

Dongsik is so close, his eyes full of longing, like he's been waiting for this all along.

Inwoo can feel it, that pull between them, thick in the air.

The want is deafening, louder than the blood rushing in his ears.

He leans in slightly. Just a little closer...

"Oooooh my god! So cute!"

Inwoo jerks back like he's been burned. His head snaps toward the offensive voice, visibly displeased.

A young girl, maybe twelve or thirteen, stands in front of them, wide-eyed and beaming. She stares at the dog like she's just discovered a pile of magic and sunshine wrapped in fur.

"Can I pet your dog?" The girl's hand already hovering above Mihi's head.

"Oh!" Dongsik lets out a loud sigh, like he's trying not to sound annoyed but failing just a little.

Inwoo glances at him. Yep. That's frustration written all over his face. Inwoo's not the only one who wanted that kiss. Dongsik looks like someone stole his dessert. Lips slightly pursed. He's cute when he's like this, flustered and a little annoyed, still trying to be polite.

"Y-yes, of course, that's okay. She is very kind," Dongsik smiles at the girl now.

Of course he's smiling, of course he's a far better person than Inwoo will ever be.

The girl start petting the dog's heads and chirps, "How old is she? And what's the little princess's name?"

She looks at Inwoo as she says it. Like it's his dog. Like he's part of this 'cute' little dog moment. He stares back at her, dead-eyed.

Nope.
The murderous intent is still pulsing through his veins. He wants her gone. Expelled from existence. If a sinkhole opened beneath her feet at this very moment, he wouldn't flinch. He wants to take the leash off the dog and strangle her with it. Cheerfully and slowly.

"This is Mihi, and the other one is called Micha! They are both two years old," Dongsik answers, stepping in when Inwoo doesn't say anything. He even lifts up the other dog so the girl can pet it too.

"Oh my god! Such cute names! What breed are they? I want a dog too. I had a dog when I was younger!" The girl gasps with delight. And she just keeps talking.

Inwoo hears the words, but they don't register. Dongsik is chatting back, sweet and attentive, and the two of them are now apparently in a full-blown conversation about dog breeds and childhood memories.

Inwoo has checked out entirely.

He's already pulled his hand away from the dog, the same hand Dongsik had been holding just moments ago. That brief moment of warmth and connection has evaporated like mist under a heat lamp.

It was going to happen. He was so close to kissing him.

But he knows it now: their first kiss isn't happening here. Not in a park full of people and barking dogs and small, obnoxious, nosy children that can't read the room.

The girl eventually wanders off. Thankfully leaving them in peace. They stay sitting talking.
Not about what just almost happened, but about random things; music, a weird comment from a colleague, which horror movie is objectively the best.

After a pause, Inwoo shifts slightly, trying to sound casual even as his heart betrays him. "Are you doing anything after work on Friday?"

"Maybe..." Dongsik hesitates. "Maybe... something with you?"

"Yeah?" Inwoo tilts his head, his voice is light and teasing. "Something with me? Sounds mysterious. Should I be excited?"

"Uhm, I-I, I mean-" Dongsik's eyes flicker.

Cute.

"Something that gets us sweaty and our blood pumping?" Inwoo leans in, and Dongsik's face reads 'ERROR, ERROR, NOT PROCESSING' at this point.

Fucking adorable.

"Let's work out together," Inwoo leans back again, smiling and enjoying himself.

"S-sweaty... blood pumping... Work out?" Dongsik repeats, clearly still struggling with language comprehension.

"I was thinking of hitting the gym at work after Friday's shift. Want to come?" Inwoo asks.

Dongsik hesitates again. He's only seen Dongsik at the gym once, maybe it's not his natural habitat.

"Y-yes. I'd like that," Dongsik's blushes again, soft pink blooming across his cheeks like always.


Friday, June 21, 2019

DONGSIK

It's surprisingly grey for a June day. Rain's been falling since morning, making everything outside feel quiet and heavy. Dongsik glances out the window again. It looks like the rain's finally stopped, but the sky still hangs low. Like it could start again at any moment.

He'd thought about asking Inwoo if he wanted to go for a walk instead. Or maybe get an iced coffee somewhere nearby. Just... something that felt a little more personal, private. Like a date. But with this weather... Nope.

The gym at work? It's not exactly what he had hoped for. He's been there, but never felt confident. The machines stress him out. He never knows if he's using them right, and he always ends up overthinking everything. His posture, how much he's sweating, what he looks like. But he wants to spend time with Inwoo, so he'll do it.

He wants to say something today.

Something honest. That he likes him.

But he can't make declarations of love surrounded by treadmills. That would just be weird.

He considers whether he should go to Inwoo's office when the workday ends, or if he should just meet him downstairs in the locker room.

The thought of the locker room makes him blush. The two of them... changing. Next to each other. Dongsik is overwhelmed by the thought of maybe seeing Inwoo's body without clothes, he absolutely can't think about that when he's trying to work.

He's looking forward to seeing Inwoo in something else. He hasn't seen him outside of his carefully structured image. Always in tailored suits, crisp collars, polished shoes. Always controlled. But today, he'll see a different side of him.

Maybe something looser, or something... tighter? Something that shows more. He can feel his dick waking up.

Dongsik presses his lips together. He needs to stop thinking about this if he wants to survive the workday. He grabs his coffee, mostly to do something else than giving his dick attention. There's still work to do.

His phone vibrates in his pocket. He jolts, nearly spills his coffee, and fumbles for it.

'Leaving early today, heading down to start without you. Locker 13's mine. Come find me by the treadmills. Can't wait to see what you wear when the tie comes off.'

What!

His mouth goes dry. He blinks. Reads it again. He looks around, like someone else might have seen it too. His first instinct is to play it safe. Write something cordial back. But then again... this is Inwoo. And that text was definitely flirtatious.

So Dongsik takes a breath. Gathers whatever is left of his confidence. And types.

'Not gonna lie, I'm way more excited to see you out of that damn suit. And you better show me how those machines work... because I'm pretty sure I'll need a hands-on lesson.'

Sent.

Oh my god.

He regrets everything. What the hell did he just write?! That wasn't flirty, that was too much. 'Hands-on lesson'? Now Inwoo's definitely going to think he's desperate. Or creepy. Or both.

He locks his phone and places it face-down on his desk. He just stares at it. Fully spiraling.

A few minutes later, the phone buzzes. He flips it over with trembling fingers.

'Hands-on, you say? Now that sounds tempting. Trust me, I'll be keeping my eyes (and hands) on you the whole time.'

His eyes scan the message again. Slowly. Then for the fifth time, just to be sure. Inwoo didn't just flirt back, he matched him. No, he escalated it!

This is happening. He's into me.

Even though he's pretty sure Inwoo likes him now, there's always that tiny, evil voice in the back of his head whispering: What if he's simply looking for a good time and you're a convenient office-fling?

But friends with benefits don't look at each other's lips like that.

He's liked Inwoo for a long time now. He knows exactly how long; it's been 102 days since that day he broke down crying and ruined Inwoo's suit jacket. Yes, he'd kept track. Like any man who is losing his mind would.

Those 102 days haven't been easy. Most of them have been him spiraling, dying over every mixed signal, every half-smile and kind word.

Does he like me? Does he not? Does he even realize what he's doing?

But now? Now he's pretty sure.
Maybe not 100%. But a very confident 97%.


Dongsik clocks out at exactly 4:00 pm, grabs his gym bag, and makes a beeline for the elevator. He's barely pressed the button before he hears footsteps behind him.

"Hey, wait up!" Jae-Ho stands beside him, his eyes immediately dropping to the bag slung over Dongsik's shoulder. "Ah, are you going to work out?"

"Yes. With Inwoo."

Shit.

Why did he say that? Jae-Ho didn't ask who he was going with. There was no reason to blurt that out like some eager announcement. He can already feel it, Jae-Ho's imagination is going to run wild with this.

"Really? So you guys are..?" Jae-Ho lets the sentence trail off, suggestive, his eyebrows is raised like he already knows something.

"So we are what? We work out together. We're... bros." Dongsik says, like the idiot he is.

Bros?!

That might be the single most heterosexual thing he's ever said in his entire life.

"...Right. I've always thought he had a crush on you, ever since the day he threw Kong out."

"Wait what?! A crush? On me?" Dongsik's voice pitches higher than he means it to.

"Yup. Do you know what he did that day?" Jae-Ho grins, like he's been waiting for this moment since that very day.

The elevator finally arrives, now that Dongsik is dying to know more. They get in.

"I... I know he waited outside the office so Kong couldn't bother me again. If that's what you mean?"

"No, no! Not that," Jae-Ho is shaking his head enthusiastically, like he's holding the juiciest secret in the company. "He saw that photo on your desk, the one of you and your best friend. He asked me if she was your girlfriend! And I swear, he looked so damn relieved and happy when I told him no, she's just your bestie, and you don't have a partner!"

"What!" Dongsik wants to say something, anything, but nothing remotely normal or appropriate comes to mind.

Jae-Ho reaches his floor, the elevator doors open. He steps out, turns back and claps a hand on Dongsik's shoulder with a wink that's far too smug for Dongsik's peace of mind.

"Think about it. And good luck with... training," Jae-Ho smiles.

Dongsik is left alone in the elevator. A strange little laugh slips out of him.

Wow. Inwoo, you want me, he thinks. 100% sure now.

Dongsik walks into the locker room like a man possessed. His heart won't stop slamming against his ribs. The words are still echoing in his ears.

He asked if she was your girlfriend.
He looked relieved and happy when I said no.

He heads straight to the locker next to the one Inwoo mentioned, number 13. He moves fast. No stalling. He tugs at his tie, pulling it off with a flick, then starts undoing the buttons on his shirt. His hands are a little shaky. He unzips his pants, and changes into gym clothes.

When he goes to fill his water bottle, he catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror. Something in his posture feels different. His reflection meets his gaze with a quiet kind of confidence.

Maybe he's not Inwoo-level smug. But he doesn't look scared or small. He looks ready.

Dongsik steps out of the locker room and into the gym, trying to keep it together.

He doesn't see Inwoo right away, his eyes scan the space fast, borderline frantic, until they land on him.

There. On the treadmill.

Inwoo's got headphones on, completely focused, like he's in his own world. Which is perfect. Because it gives Dongsik a chance to stare.

Inwoo's wearing a tight black t-shirt and black fitted training pants that cling in a way that's criminal.

His arms?! They look even better than Dongsik imagined. Strong and lean, veins pronounced, flexing with every movement. The shirt hugs his chest and shoulders, the fabric stretching slightly each time he swings his arms. And his legs, Dongsik doesn't know where to look. Or where not to.

When Inwoo lifts his arm to wipe his brow, his shirt lifts too, just enough to show a glimpse of his stomach and the waistband of his underwear.

Dongsik's mouth begins to water. This is ridiculous.

He wants to kiss him. Wants to walk up to him, grab his waist, press his lips to his. He wants to push him back against the treadmill and say 'So this is how you look out of that damn suit? Now, show me more.' Just to see what Inwoo would do.

He's never wanted anything this much. Not with this kind of hunger.

His fingers tighten around his water bottle. He swallows hard. He should probably go and say hi. Or lie down. Or scream.

But no.

He's going to say something flirty. Or something stupid. He hasn't decided yet.
He takes a breath. Rolls his shoulders back.

Then he steps forward.

Chapter Text

INWOO

He's mid-run, eyes on the treadmill display, pretending to care about speed and incline. But really, he's just waiting for Dongsik.

He's been listening to music, but not really hearing it. His thoughts have been on Dongsik's text.

It presses against his awareness: a presence. He turns his head, every nerve on edge. Dongsik is there, right next to him. Dark blue shirt, fitted. And he's wearing black shorts.

Shorts.

Damn. His legs.

Smooth, lean, the kind that draw the eye and don't let go. Made to be... grabbed.

Kissable? Hell yes. Bitable? Without question. Inwoo wants his mouth on them, wants to leave marks, to bruise that perfect skin.

Dongsik shouldn't be allowed to walk around like that. Hair tousled. Eyes locked on him like he already knows how flustered he's making him. He doesn't look shy now. He looks... confident?

How can anyone be this sexy?

Inwoo can't even pretend to act unaffected. He almost misses a step on the treadmill. He quickly turns off the machine, taking off his headset. There's no way in hell he can keep on running while he's standing beside him, looking like that.

"There you are. Ready for a workout?"

He half-expects Dongsik to flush or stumble over his words. But instead, Dongsik locks eyes with him, and the intensity sends a shock straight through Inwoo's core. Then further south.

"I'm more than ready. Where do you... want me first?"

A... flirty Dongsik?

Dongsik's smile is radiant and playful. That damn smile is going to be his downfall.

I want you under me, in bed. I want to blow off this work out session. Instead, I want to blow you.

Beads of sweat are forming on his forehead, and it has nothing to do with the workout.

Inwoo does his best to keep his voice steady. "Let's get started. The machines. I'll show you how."

"I'm completely lost. You'll have to be gentle. Clear. And slow. I need you to... take control," Dongsik's smirk deepens, teasing.

Inwoo's blood runs hot.

This new Dongsik, so confident and so in control, is intoxicating. Every look, every word feels like a challenge. Inwoo is stunned, breathless, and aching for more. He's desperate to regain control. He steps off the treadmill, closing the distance until he's standing right in front of him.

"You like it when someone tells you what to do, don't you?" Inwoo arches a brow, lips curving into a smirk, daring him to flirt more.

"Hm, not exactly. But I like it when you tell me what to do..." Dongsik tilts his head with mock innocence, but the gleam in his eyes is anything but.

Dongsik shouldn't sound and look like that. That shouldn't be legal.

Inwoo lets the tension hang there for a beat. Leaning in a little he speaks again.

"Yeah?" his eyes flick down Dongsik's frame and back up again, shamelessly appreciative. "Then go to that machine. And I'll tell you exactly what to do."

Dongsik holds his gaze for a few seconds, before he turns, sauntering toward the machine like he loves being watched. Every movement is just a bit exaggerated, hips shifting, legs stretching, like he's putting on a show just for him.

And Inwoo watches. Every step. Every line of muscle that flexes and moves beneath those clothes.

His eyes catch on the backs of Dongsik's lickable thighs, the way his shorts ride just a little higher with every step. It's obvious Dongsik knows he's being looked at, and he's reveling in it.

Dongsik stands in front of the machine, looking just a little restless. He glances over at Inwoo, waiting.

"Sit down. Legs apart," Inwoo says curtly.

To his sheer pleasure, Dongsik opens his mouth just slightly, like he might say something back, but stops himself. A flicker of pink rises in his cheeks, and he lowers himself into the seat without a word. He spreads his legs just like he's been told, and rests his hands casually on the sides of the seat.

"Like this?" He looks up at Inwoo through half-lidded eyes.

Fuck.

Fuck.

Inwoo swears under his breath and moves slowly, until he's standing close enough to smell Dongsik's skin, faint body wash or perfume. He doesn't say anything right away. Just let his eyes travel.

"Yes," Inwoo sighs, "Just... just like that."

Inwoo's cock begins to throb. But he can't have that. Not here.

The position is... compromising, to say the least. Dongsik's legs are spread by the machine, thighs framed perfectly by the pads. His posture relaxed and open.

Inwoo reaches for the weight pin.

"We'll start light. Focus on control. It's not about pushing out fast, it's about squeezing through the motion. Feel the stretch here-" he brushes the side of Dongsik's thigh.

"Outer glutes. And here," he adds, grazing his hand down toward the edge of Dongsik's hip.

Dongsik shifts barely, but not away from the touch. If anything, closer.

"Push your legs apart," Inwoo commands, stepping back a little. "Slowly. As far as they'll go. Then hold."

Dongsik obeys, pressing out against the pads with a steady rhythm. His thighs tense, jaw tight with focus. When he glances up at Inwoo, there's nothing innocent in that look.

"How long do I hold it?"

"Three seconds," Inwoo's eyes locked on the movement. "Then bring them back in. Slow. Controlled. Keep the tension, don't let the machine do the work."

Dongsik repeats the movement, slower this time. The press outward, the pause. The return. His breathing changes ever so slightly, lips parting. Inwoo watches everything. Tracks the rhythm, and the effort.

"You're doing so well. Good form and control," Inwoo praises.

"Yeah? Just following orders," Dongsik breathes, watching him back.

His eyes are still lingering on Dongsik's frame a moment longer than necessary.

"You're a quick learner. And surprisingly flexible," Inwoo lets out a low, amused hum.

"Surprisingly?"

"Well... I had my suspicions."

"I don't know, I feel a little stiff... Guess you'll have to stretch me out sometime. See just how far I can go?" Dongsik eats up the effect he has on Inwoo. He can see it.

Inwoo exhales sharply. Blushes. His gaze drops to his legs again, they are still spread slightly, still tense from the last rep.

"Damn Dongsik... You can't just say things like that," Inwoo whispers, caught somewhere between amusement and arousal.

"Why not?" Dongsik's smile is too easy. "We're just talking about working out... right?"

"I don't know... are we?" A bead of sweat slips down Inwoo's temple, and he wipes it away quickly, like that'll help him get a grip. But Dongsik, looking the way he does, moving the way he is, speaking like that... it's almost too much to handle.

"I am. Are you?" Dongsik's giving a lazy shrug. The curve of his mouth is pure sin, like he has the answer, and he's daring Inwoo to admit it.

Inwoo doesn't reply immediately.

Instead, he steps closer. He leans down, just a breath away from his ear. "What I’m thinking about," his lips almost touching Dongsik's cheek. "...I can't say out loud here."

He pulls back, the damage is done.

Dongsik blinks up at him, eyes wide. It looks like he wants to say something, but nothing comes out.

"But wouldn't you like to know?"

"I, uhm, I mean-" Dongsik stutters.

Inwoo cuts him off. "You like it when I tell you what to do, right? Guess what? I'm not done with you yet."

"What... what do you want me to do now?" Dongsik asks. His pulse is visible now, fluttering in his throat.

"Stay on that machine. Give me ten more. Slowly," Inwoo's stepping back just enough to think straight again.

"As you wish."

Dongsik finishes his reps on the leg machine and looks up, flushed and still catching his breath. "That good enough for you?"

"Mhm. You know you are. Come on," Inwoo smirks.

He leads him to the chest press. Dongsik follows, blush rising in his cheeks.

"Sit. Feet planted. Back flat."

Dongsik obeys, his hands gripping the handles, arms spread wide. The stretch pulls tight across his chest. Inwoo is dragging his eyes over him, drinking him in.

"Training's all about control. You're not just pushing mindlessly. You're squeezing while visualizing the target muscles. From here-" His fingers press to the center of Dongsik's chest, slow and firm. "And out."

"Like this?" Dongsik breathes in, then pushes the handles forward, steady and smooth.

"Almost there... Slower."

Dongsik obeys again. Muscles tense, breathing deep.

After more reps, Inwoo shows him the way to the hip thrust station, nodding toward the padded bench. He loads a moderate weight and demonstrates, lowering his hips before pressing up in a restrained tempo.

"Watch closely. It's about driving the strength through your core by pressing your heels, and squeezing your glutes at the top. Don't rush it. Feel every inch."

"Every inch, huh?"

Inwoo nearly loses his grip on the handle but catches himself just in time. His legs tense under the weight, though the sudden flush creeping up his body has nothing to do with the reps.

He glances over at Dongsik, who is blushing just a little, but looking far too pleased with himself.

Dongsik shrugs again, barely a twitch of his shoulders.
"Oh, come on. You knew I was going to say something like that. It's impossible not to, when you talk like that..."

Inwoo lets out a breath through his nose, fighting the smirk threatening to take over. "Every inch of what, exactly?" Inwoo thrust his hips upward into the next rep, painfully slow, while locking eyes with Dongsik.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Dongsik's smile widens.

"You're really on fire today, aren't you?"

"Like you're not?" Dongsik laughs softly.

Inwoo doesn't answer. Doesn't need to. Instead, he racks the weight in silence, breathing steadily but shallow.

Dongsik watches him intently, just observing at first. When Inwoo is done, Dongsik steps forward, and positions himself on the padded bench. His hands adjust the grip. Resting it carefully on his hips. As he thrusts upward, his muscles strain slightly, and a soft groan escapes his lips. Barely audible, but unmistakable.

And God, does Inwoo hear it, the sound traveling directly to his cock. His fingers twitch.

He wants to hear it again. Wants to pull it from Dongsik's throat himself. Grinding, breathless, under entirely different circumstances. Not here. Not surrounded by people, weights, and fluorescent lights.

Another rep. Another quiet exhale that sounds suspiciously like a moan of pleasure. Dongsik is doing this to tease him.

He drags his eyes back to Dongsik's face, who's biting back a smile, still mid-rep.

"You're watching me awfully closely," Dongsik barely glances his way.

"Just making sure your form's right. And it looks... perfect. Keep going," Inwoo answers.

He doesn't give a damn if anyone sees him staring at Dongsik or hears the flirting, he can't help it. He wants to touch him so badly, to kiss him right here and now. But the gym is busy enough that he can't just have his way with him.


They've been working out for over an hour when Inwoo notices Dongsik hitting his breaking point. He suggests they call it a day, and Dongsik smiles in relief.

Maybe he has tortured Dongsik enough for one day?

Just when Dongsik starts to relax, thinking he's finally safe, Inwoo points toward the treadmills with a smug little smile.

"Couple minutes. Let's run."

Dongsik lets out an exaggerated groan, loud and dramatic. But he's good at following orders, so he does as he's told.

Just a little punishment for flirting so shamelessly.

And for having legs like that.


Inwoo prefers to shower at home.

He tells Dongsik that too, casually, but it's not really casual. The truth is, he doesn't want to be around when Dongsik undresses for the shower. Not because he doesn't want to see it, he wants that more than anything else right now.

But he's not sure he could hide his arousal. He's afraid of how his cock would behave. Or not behave, in this case.

"Hip thrusts were the worst!" Dongsik laughs as they step into the locker room, his words bouncing off the tiled walls.

It's empty. It's just the two of them.

"My legs are going to hate me tomorrow! You planned that, didn't you?" Dongsik grunts, as he stretches one thigh with a wince.

"You thought I'd go easy on you?" Inwoo teases.

"Hm. No, I think you wanted to see me suffer," Dongsik grins.

All Inwoo can think about is how badly he wants to touch him. How much he wants to press him up against the lockers, bury his hands in his hair and kiss the sweet smile right off his face.

"That chest press for example! I think that was the worst. Or wait, no, my god! The treadmill! That's the real villain. I don't understand how you jog that much. You can't be completely sane, putting yourself through that kind of torture... voluntarily!" Dongsik babbles, then takes a long sip from his water bottle.

He's so cute and silly that Inwoo wants to attack him. With his mouth. And hands. And...

"You're absolutely right. I'm not completely sane," he replies, and it's the most honest thing he's said all day.

"Maybe it’s self-harm? You with the jogging, me with horror movies?» Dongsik laughs, the sound is bright and lovely.

The only self-inflicted pain Inwoo's feeling right now is holding himself back from touching him. Tasting him. Closing the space between them.

It hurts. Not being close to him hurts. It's physical.

The need is crawling up his spine, pulling at every nerve. He can't take it anymore. He wants to kiss him so bad it makes his teeth ache.

He must have him.

Now.

"Dongsik!" He says abruptly, cutting him off mid-babble. He doesn't mean for his voice to come out so loud and harsh, but it does.

They both freeze in front of their lockers, not moving. The silence stretches, it's heavy and thick between them. Inwoo can't remember the last time he felt this wound up.

From desire. Desperation.

Not because he thinks Dongsik will reject him, please, he knows Dongsik wants him. He's certain of it. He felt it, he saw it. He saw it in the way Dongsik looked at him during the workout. It wasn't subtle. Dongsik's gaze had been all heat and hunger, openly inviting. They'd been eating each other alive with their eyes. Devoured each other.

No, it's not rejection he's scared of, but of what might come after they give in. He needs Dongsik to not only want him back, but need him.

Not just with lust, but with... everything.

And it terrifies him, because he knows he doesn't deserve it. But he's past the point of caring. He needs him anyway.

"Y-yes?" Dongsik isn't smiling anymore. He's watching Inwoo carefully now, lips slightly parted, confused maybe. Maybe even a little hurt.

Probably because of Inwoo's sharp tone.

And who could blame him? Inwoo hasn't exactly been consistent.

Inwoo watches as Dongsik lowers his gaze to the floor, looking defeated. The sight is too much. Guilt creeps in, shocking and suffocating.

Inwoo wants to say something, anything, to make it better, but the words won't come. His throat tightens. The silence in the room feels insufferable now, heavy and absolute. Not even a sound from the training room next door.

It's like the world has narrowed down to just the two of them, and Inwoo can't find his voice in it.

"Dongsik, I..." Inwoo starts, but his voice falters.

It comes out rough and thin. Pathetic.

He's been clutching his gym bag like a lifeline, knuckles white. Like if he lets go, everything might fall apart. He forces himself to let go, and slowly sets the bag down.

He wants his hands empty. Wants them to be free and open. Ready.

"What..? What did I say?" Dongsik asks unsure, barely above an unsteady whisper. He finally meets Inwoo's eyes. There's no anger, just raw uncertainty. And hurt.

Dongsik's hands won't stay still, his fingers twisting together, pulling at nothing. Inwoo wants to reach out, steady those restless hands and give him something to hold onto. Do something to change that look on Dongsik's pretty face.

But he doesn't.

Instead, he takes a step forward. It's not a big step, but it's enough to see the way Dongsik's breath stutters. He's definitely in his personal space, the space he's always been a little too careless with.

They're too close, and he knows it. But he doesn't back out. He just stands there, hands open at his sides. His heart is pounding like it's about to explode.

Should he just kiss him? Hug him? The silence is starting to ache. Inwoo can't stand the way Dongsik keeps folding into himself, like he's preparing for impact.

The self-assured and flirty Dongsik from earlier nowhere to be seen. All because of his carelessness.

Say something. Fucking do something. Anything.

Inwoo reaches out slowly, carefully, and lays his hands over Dongsik's. His hands are tentative as they wrap around the restless fingers. He squeezes gently.

Dongsik flinches. For a split second it looks like he's going to pull away, like the touch startled him, even when he saw it coming. But he doesn't budge. He stays. His hands tremble under Inwoo's.

Inwoo tightens his grip. Not to trap, but to ground.
To tell him; I'm here. I'm not going anywhere.

Dongsik blinks fast. His breath catches, he straightens up a little. They lock eyes.

It's enough to make Inwoo finally speak.
"... Dongsik."

"Y-yes?" Dongsik sounds so fragile.

Inwoo takes a breath. "How would you react if I... kissed you?"

He is surprised by the sound of his own voice. It doesn't feel like him, it's too open and raw. Like it came from a part of him he usually keeps locked away. It still feels foreign that this should mean so much. That he should let it mean so much.

Dongsik lets out a soft gasp. He looks at Inwoo with those impossibly beautiful eyes and leans in. The air between them is so charged it feels like it could crack.

"I... I would kiss you back," Dongsik's hands have stopped trembling.

After a beat, almost like it slips out of him before he can stop it, "Please, just kiss me. I'm fucking losing it, Inwoo."

The desperation in Dongsik knocks the breath out of him. The words land like a quiet explosion. Dongsik's eyes widen like he didn't know he was going to say them out loud, he quickly wets his lower lip with the tip of his tongue.

Inwoo should feel triumphant. Should feel joy, and he does, somewhere in there. A rush of warmth spreads through his chest, dizzying in its intensity.

I don't deserve it, he thinks. I'm asking for too much, taking something too good and pure with hands that are too stained.

But he can't pull back. He won't.

The way the relief floods through him right now, weightless and shaking, is too big to ignore. And with it, something close to fucking bliss. Like breathing in air after being underwater for too long. It doesn't ease the guilt, the fear, and the mess inside him. But Dongsik's words, his closeness, cuts through it all.

There's no turning back now.

He slowly lifts one hand, his fingers hovering just above Dongsik's skin, barely grazing the side of his neck.

Dongsik doesn't move. He just looks at Inwoo, like the wait is physically hurting him. His expression is almost pained, frowning, lips parted, eyes dark with something desperate.

It's want. It's need.

Inwoo hesitates for just a second longer, before he moves his hand up to Dongsik's cheek; letting his thumb rest gently beside his ear, fingertips brushing against his soft hair and warm skin.

Dongsik's gaze drops to Inwoo's lips. His throat works as he swallows, eyes flicking up again.

Inwoo leans in, and at long last, presses his lips to what feels like is all he's ever wanted.

He kisses him.

He doesn't rush. His hand cups Dongsik's face, holding him like he might slip away if he lets go.

For a moment, Dongsik stays petrified, too stunned to react. But then he exhales through his nose. It's a tiny broken sound. His hands come up, almost blindly, clutching Inwoo's shoulders, like he needs the support to stay upright. The kiss is soft, reverent, trembling with everything unspoken between them.

In that single, stolen moment, Inwoo forgets who he was before Dongsik. He knows nothing will ever be the same after this.

Reluctantly, Inwoo pulls back. He needs more, but first, he has to look at him again.

A disappointed little sigh escapes Dongsik's lips. He looks almost tormented, as though something inside him cracked when the kiss ended.

Inwoo's eyes drop to his unintentional pout. His lips are flushed, parted, and so clearly ready for more.

"Fuck, Dongsik... you're beautiful."
It has to be said. He needs to know.

Dongsik blushes hard, before he grabs fistfuls of Inwoo's front and yanks him in again, mouths crashing in a kiss that is nothing short of all-consuming.

Inwoo lets out a soft moan, caught off guard. Dongsik's mouth is warm, trembling with want, and Inwoo meets it with equal fervor, losing himself completely in his taste.

His hand finds Dongsik's chest, pressing gently over his heart. It is pounding fast and deliciously beneath his palm. The sheer aliveness of it makes Inwoo feel something wild has been unleashed inside him.

He's not sure if he wants to laugh, cry, or scream.

All he knows is this: he's never felt more alive. Terrifyingly alive. Untamed. Like he might need to pinch himself just to believe this is real, and if this is a dream, he never wants to wake up.

Inwoo can barely breathe, scared to miss out on anything that's happening.

Dongsik's hands, cautious and gentle, sliding over him. There's something so careful about the way they move, like he's afraid of breaking whatever's just formed between them.

Both hands glide up his arms, soft strokes that send quiet shivers through him. Dongsik touches his biceps, gripping it momentarily, like he's checking if Inwoo is real. Like he can't quite believe this is happening either.

Inwoo wants to speak, to assure him, but doesn't want to break loose from the kiss.

Dongsik keeps touching him, softly tracing the lines of his arms like he's memorizing them. Up and down, again and again. All at once, his hands settle firmly on Inwoo's hips. As if he is certain that Inwoo won't vanish, won't break. No more hesitation.

Inwoo sways forward without meaning to. His breath catches.

Dongsik's hands slip just under his t-shirt, fingertips resting on bare skin. Anchoring. So present. The touch of his fingers against the naked skin makes blood flow to Inwoo's nether regions.

The hand he'd had resting over Dongsik's heart moves. He needs to get closer. Even a few inches of space between them feels unbearable.

He brings both hands up, fingers threading through Dongsik's curls. Cupping the back of his neck he finally caresses the soft tufts he has fantasized about so many times.

To think that just kissing could feel this fucking good. So perfectly right.

An involuntary groan escapes Inwoo, encouraging Dongsik to deepen the kiss, throwing them both into an urgent haze.

Between kisses, Dongsik whimpers softly, pulling back just enough to look into his eyes.

"I... I want you so much. I need you," he whispers.

"Then why are you stopping? Don't you dare stop," Inwoo pants, not even trying to conceal how much he's aching for more.

Breathlessly, Dongsik places his hands on Inwoo's shoulders again, a sly smile tugging at his lips, adorable and wicked all at once.

"Look who's impatient now," he murmurs, voice like a caress. He leans in again, and this time when their lips meet, he traces his tongue over the seam of Inwoo's lips, begging for entry. On a sudden inhale Inwoo opens up and their tongues meet with a slow and burning intensity.

Inwoo's hands tighten in his hair. Angling his head, he wants to devour him. As if they're still not close enough, Inwoo pushes his hips against Dongsik's, making them both groan. As he presses him against the locker, their hips moving in a slow, grinding motion, he is vaguely aware of his surroundings.

It feels like Inwoo is slipping out of the real world and into a dream he was never meant to live. Like he's been stranded at sea for years, and this is the first time he's set foot on solid land.

He feels Dongsik everywhere now: under his skin, in his pulse, in his heart.

Like he's not just being kissed, but rewritten and rewired.

This is the ultimate surrender. So why does it feel like the ultimate victory?

It almost becomes too much, Inwoo is flooded with emotions that threaten to tear away all reason. This is exactly what he has been longing for, what he has needed in order to stay tethered. They need each other.

He doesn't need to kill anyone, not as long as he can feel like this when he kisses Dongsik. It is an inexhaustible desire, it tickles so deliciously every time he feels his lips and tongue.

Dongsik, beautiful Dongsik.

The sudden sound of the door opening cuts through the moment like a blade.

Both of them react instantly, jerking away from each other violently. Dongsik steps away too fast, almost tripping over his own feet. Inwoo's heart is slamming dramatically inside his chest.

His body already misses the closeness. The loss of Dongsik's lips is so sudden it hurts. They stand completely still, eyes wide, looking at each other. It's as if they've both just remembered where they are, still in the locker room. Still at work. Still somewhere they can be seen.

Not alone.

Dongsik covers his mouth with one hand, rubs at it, as if he's trying to hide the fact that he's just been kissing someone. Or maybe trying to ground himself, make sure it really happened. Inwoo doesn't say anything. His whole body is tense and agitated, like it's still reaching for something it's no longer allowed to have.

Inwoo shoots a glare toward the door, jaw tight, eyes sharp. Whoever just ruined everything deserves to fucking die.

The door swings fully open, and two guys from the sales department walk in, both young, loud, and completely absorbed in whatever video they're watching on a phone. Inwoo doesn't remember their names.

They don't look up. No suspicious glances. No knowing smirks. Nothing to suggest they've seen anything they shouldn't.

Inwoo exhales, long and quiet. Relief washes over him.

He grabs the gym bag and holds it casually in front of himself, a makeshift shield between himself and the world around, that is threatening to unleash the chaos still buzzing under his skin.

Oh. And to hide the fact that he's standing here with an erection.

He glances back at Dongsik, who is looking guilty as hell. It's almost comical.

Dongsik fumbles with the padlock on his locker,  twisting it like it's the most interesting object in the world. He turns his back to Inwoo, clearly trying to hide his face. He's probably blushing.

Cute.

One of the sales guys looks up from his phone. The second he spots Inwoo, he straightens and bows way too enthusiastically. The other man notices a second later and does the same.

"Seo! Sir! How's it going?" the one with the phone asks, too brightly.

It was going really well until you showed up.

Inwoo has to clear his throat before he can trust his voice. His lips still tingle. His whole body still remembers Dongsik's hands. He doesn't want to look at these guys. Doesn't want to talk to them.

He just wants to kiss Dongsik again. And again.

"Good. What about you? Uh, you two?" Inwoo asks, but he cares so little about their answer it actually numbing.

He'd rather snap their necks and be back pressing his lips against Dongsik's. But if he did, Dongsik would probably lose all desire for him.

So. Looks like the murderous urge's staying put... Surprise surprise.

"Oh, great! Actually, I'm still awaiting a response to the sales report I submitted to Seo Ji-Hun over two weeks ago. Naturally, I've sent several reminders, but I was hoping you might be able to assist-"

Before he can finish, the other man nudges him sharply in the ribs, silently signaling: That's not how we address the directors - are you insane?

Inwoo's lips twitch into a half-smile.

Oh, sure. Because pestering my brother about a report is exactly what I want to deal with right now.

And just like that: boner gone.

"I'll look into it on Monday," Inwoo's words dripping with exaggerated politeness.  "Thank you ever so much for bringing it to my attention."

The two men bow excessively in return, practically folding in half. They quickly shuffle to their lockers, thankfully a safe distance from where Inwoo and Dongsik are standing.

Dongsik stands with his hand pressed lightly over his heart, looking utterly adorable and confused.

"So," Inwoo says as he drops his gym bag back to the floor. "...where were we?"

Before Dongsik can react, Inwoo takes a few steps forward, closing the gap between them with deliberate ease.

He reaches out and wraps his hands around Dongsik's wrists. His hold is firm. Intentional. Like he's claiming him.

"Don't look so guilty," Inwoo's grinning slyly.

Dongsik freezes. His breath catches in his throat, eyes wide and locked on Inwoo's like he's forgotten how to function.

Inwoo leans in, voice just above a whisper, low enough to make Dongsik's pulse stutter, "Do you want to come see me tomorrow? I'll come pick you up. Say yes."

Dongsik's lips part. His face is on fire. He looks like he's about to collapse under the weight of the words. Stunned, thrilled, and absolutely wrecked.

Dongsik doesn't even try to speak.

He nods once. Then again. Harder. Still no words.