Chapter Text
Seokjin had his eye on Kim Namjoon since day one. Since that tall, muscled, and dimpled embodiment of a Greek god walked into their office and introduced himself as their new regional manager. How could someone this hot have the most boring job to ever exist?
Not that Seokjin was the one to judge. His morning routine started with making two cups of coffee – for the manager and himself – going through work emails, checking his boss’ schedule, and gathering rumors from the rest of the office. He'd been at it for three years already, and Hoseok promised to get him an honorary pink badge.
But at least, Seokjin had dreams. Aspirations. If a good acting gig came his way, he'd dump Bike to Street Delivery Services in an instant. A regional manager, though? That was where they locked you up like a prisoner – too bad to be satisfied, too good to escape. Their last manager had retired at the age of sixty-eight, and it was a pitiful sight. He'd tried to hit on Jimin at the farewell party and showed everyone countless photos of his four cats. Miserable.
But this ? Kim Namjoon could’ve been a singer with his deep, rumbling voice; a gym instructor with these muscles outlined by tight suits. He indulged in three weekly visits to the gym, as Seokjin found out through Namjoon’s schedule. Which he was checking at 9 PM on a Sunday night because he was a very responsible worker and had nothing to do with that glimpse of Namjoon’s cock in the restroom that turned his mouth into a fucking Niagara Falls.
“You’re being dramatic,” Jimin huffed, taking a sip of his coffee, while Jungkook just stared at Seokjin with his mouth agape.
“I’m telling you, it was a goddamn tree trunk. Like… Like this!” Seokjin raised his hands to Jimin’s face, measuring about, what was it, six inches? Shit, maybe it was seven.
“I think you’re lying,” Jungkook said, but he sounded uncertain. Seokjin pursed his lips. Why on earth would he lie about Namjoon’s size?
“Besides, what does it matter?” Jimin quirked an eyebrow. “The dude is as straight as a ruler.”
“Wha– Why do you think so?”
Seokjin had thoroughly checked Kim Namjoon's schedule, and there was not a single mention of heterosexual relationships. In fact, Namjoon’s peculiar love for museums and art performances hinted at quite the opposite. Or maybe he was just an art nerd, which was cool, of course, but Seokjin wished there was more behind it.
“It’s pretty obvious, isn’t it?”
Jungkook nodded a few times. “I saw him talking to a delivery girl yesterday – all smiles and dimples. So damn hot.”
He let out a wistful sigh, and Seokjin felt it in his bones. Jimin eyed them with a flat look. “Don’t tell me you both are gonna pine for Mister Tall-Straight-and-Handsome?”
“Because pining for Mister Short-Straight-and-Boring is that much better?” It was Seokjin’s turn to quirk an eyebrow, and Jimin pinned him with a glare.
“He’s not straight. He’s just–”
“Too shy to talk to you?”
“Not interested in relationships?”
“Ace,” Jimin deadpanned. “And I’m gonna prove it.”
Seokjin and Jungkook exchanged a glance and simultaneously snickered. Jimin had been proving it for two months already. Why? Who knew. Probably, to tell himself that he still had a chance with their accountant. So far, the only ‘proof’ Jimin had gathered was that Yoongi had never been in a serious relationship, but whether it was a good sign or bad was hard to tell.
God, their job was boring as hell. So if Jimin was on his own mission to get a man, couldn't Seokjin jump on the bandwagon?
He made his first move the next morning.
“Seokjin-ssi?” Namjoon looked up from his laptop, caught sight of the coffee cup in Seokjin’s hands, and reached out to take it with a polite smile. “Ah, thank you. You didn’t have to, but I appreciate it.”
“They keep me here for a reason,” Seokjin said with a nonchalant smile, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear. His hair wasn’t that long for it to be necessary, but hey, not only Namjoon could be effortlessly attractive.
“You are an important part of the team,” Namjoon said ambiguously, gave Seokjin a tight smile, and turned back to the screen. And that was all? No I’m sure you have better qualities ? No I don’t mind keeping you closer ? Seokjin bit his cheek to not quirk an eyebrow and smiled with faux gratitude.
“Thank you, manager-nim.”
Namjoon hummed, took a sip of his coffee, typed something on his laptop, and glanced at Seokjin. “Is there anything else, Seokjin-ssi?”
“I only wanted to see if you like it.” Seokjin glanced at the cup and tilted his head, all sweet and courteous. “I’ve noticed you bring takeaway coffee to work. Is there a place nearby that you prefer?”
“Oh. Yes, I do?” Namjoon sounded unsure. Their conversation had taken a sharp turn, but Seokjin kept his face straight as if it was completely normal. “There’s a cafe two blocks away, I, uh, I stop there almost every morning. It's very quiet on the weekends, and their dark roast is perfect.”
“What’s it called?”
“Reflection.”
Seokjin hummed. Green door. Purple sign. His bus drove past it every morning, but… “Ah, I don’t think I know it.” He gave Namjoon the most innocent smile in his arsenal. “Would you show me where it is?”
“Sure, um. I’ll send you a link.”
A link?
Seokjin huffed and pursed his lips once the door to Namjoon’s office closed behind him. He’d pretty much handed a date invitation to Namjoon – and got a goddamn link in response. Seokjin shook his head and walked to his desk. Maybe Jimin was right. He shouldn’t–
His phone chirped with a new message. From Kim Namjoon // boss. Of course, it contained a link to Naver Maps with a familiar logo of Reflection cafe. But what was below it? Seokjin swallowed. Oh, there was a smiley face. Simple. Lovely. Mysterious. A smiley face!
Seokjin bit back a smile and looked at Namjoon’s door. Okay, maybe he should give it another shot.
He waited until Sunday – you can’t rush these things, okay – before showing up at Reflection at half past eight. Casual enough. Seokjin wasn’t desperate to meet Namjoon, was he? It didn’t matter that he had to set up three alarms, spend twenty minutes in front of the mirror to fix his tired face, and walk to Reflection all the way from their office building because he’d spaced out in the bus and completely missed his stop.
But, finally, Seokjin was here, sitting on a bar stool, watching passersby, and swirling a cup of coffee in his hands. He’d ordered two shots of espresso in his latte because he needed it, and now, it tasted bitter on his tongue. How did Namjoon drink it black every day?
Seokjin could see why Namjoon liked it here, though. Reflection definitely had its charm. It was a small, cozy place with a handful of tables, gleaming mirrors, and bookcases in the corners. Morning sun streamed in through large windows, adding color to the abstract murals on the walls, and jazz played from the speakers, blending with baristas’ chattering and chiming of early cyclists.
Seokjin closed his eyes and took a deep breath with a smile on his lips. It was a nice place. Calming. Peaceful. He could–
Oh fuck.
His eyes widened as he took in the figure behind the window. A man was locking his bicycle at the stop in front of the cafe. Despite the autumn chill, he wore nothing but a sporty headband, a loose t-shirt, and shorts. Fucking shorts. The bare lines of his thighs and shoulders were obscene. It had been a long time since Seokjin felt such a strong desire to be choked.
Namjoon? Regional manager of BTS, Kim Namjoon ? Seokjin watched the pinnacle of his fantasies walk into the cafe with his jaw still on the floor. God, this man was born to be on stage, not in the mediocre office of their mediocre company.
“Ah, Namjoon-ssi.” The girl barista looked at him with a bright smile because, of course, she would. Who wouldn’t at least try to chat up this divine piece of hot meat? “Good morning. As usual?”
“Thanks, Hana-ssi.” Namjoon wiped invisible sweat off his temple and smiled at her, swiping his card to pay the order. His voice was low and a little bit breathless. Just enough to drive Seokjin crazy.
Well, shit. He wasn’t any regular man either, was he? Seokjin considered himself a ten. An eleven, when he was in the mood for it. Namjoon would be an idiot to miss out.
“Manager-nim,” Seokjin called with a gentle, innocent undertone and stood up from his seat. Namjoon frowned but didn’t tear his gaze from his phone. “Manager-nim!”
Namjoon blinked and looked up, reaching for the airpod in his ear. Ah. Of course. Seokjin bit back a flash of ire and only smiled when Namjoon’s gaze finally landed on him.
“Oh. Seokjin-ssi?” Namjoon sounded confused, as if he wasn’t sure, and Seokjin nodded. It was, indeed, him. “Are you– I didn’t know you knew this place.”
Seokjin quirked an eyebrow. “You've told me about it.”
“Ah, right. Yes.” Namjoon nodded and looked around. “Do you like it?”
“I do. I’d be happy to come back here sometime.”
“You should.” Namjoon nodded again and smiled awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. His biceps stood out, and don’t stare, Seokjin, do not stare . “It’s nice here.”
“Maybe next weekend?”
“Yeah, um, sure.”
“At nine?”
Namjoon frowned, but before he could say anything, the barista popped up again with a bright, “Your order is ready, Namjoon-ssi.” She held out his cup of coffee and eyed Seokjin with a smile that didn’t really reach her eyes. “Can I offer you anything else?”
Seokjin gave her the same empty smile. “No, thank you.”
“Ah, sure, thank you, Hana-ssi. Have a good day.” Namjoon nodded at her, dimples flashing, and glanced at Seokjin. “It was nice to meet you, Seokjin-ssi. I’ll see you on Monday.”
And before Seokjin knew, Namjoon put the airpod back in and walked out of the cafe with a spring in his step. That… didn’t go so well. Seokjin exchanged a tight smile with Hana and returned to his place by the window. His coffee was cold by now, and his mood was sour. Namjoon was an idiot, after all. Not surprising. But whatever, Seokjin could focus on someone else, Namjoon wasn’t the only–
He glanced at the window and froze. Namjoon crouched down to unlock his bicycle, and his ass stuck out like a perfectly round mochi. His shorts stretched around his thighs, slid down the firm muscle, and Seokjin’s guts tied into a knot. Fucking hell.
Namjoon stood up with a deep breath, fixed his headband, put the coffee in a cup-holder, and rolled the bicycle away from the stop. The wind played in his dark hair, and the sun caressed the honey of his skin. Would it taste like sweat? Cologne? Salted caramel? Seokjin’s mouth watered.
Namjoon paused in front of the window, waved a hand at Seokjin, and straddled the bicycle. A groan bubbled in Seokjin’s throat. He felt hot and sweaty, and the warmth in his cock was way above a normal reaction. Why did it feel like he’d just watched a real-life piece of porn?
Seokjin urgently needed plan B.
“We should throw a get-together.” He slammed his palm on the counter in front of Jimin. The logistics coordinator quirked an eyebrow, and Seokjin quickly retreated. “Please?”
“When?”
“As soon as possible.”
Jimin eyed him, and a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. “You’re that horny, huh?”
“No. I’m calm and very patient. But I’m gonna get this dick no matter what,” Seokjin said into Jimin’s eyes and turned on his heels. Fine, if Jimin wasn’t gonna help him, he–
A hum stopped him. “This Friday, 8 PM.”
“Perfect.” Seokjin glanced at him over his shoulder. “Thanks.”
“You owe me,” Jimin said, not looking at him, and Seokjin smirked.
“Sure. Whatever it takes to get into Yoongi-nim’s pants.”
Every Saturday, Jimin attended dance classes and even performed free-style in a few clubs – which was why he’d been crowned the organizer of their Friday bashes. He was acquainted with a lot of barmans and club managers, and they would often secure him a free spot on the busiest night of the week. Even for a party of five.
“Do you think he will come?” Jungkook fidgeted in his place by Seokjin and glanced at the bar entrance again. He had a boyish crush on Namjoon, but it wasn’t enough to keep him afloat. Seokjin didn’t see him as a competition even if he squinted.
“He will.” Seokjin tapped his finger on his glass of margarita and took a sip. Sour. Salty. He scrunched his nose. He should’ve asked for a sugar rim.
And he did – with his second glass, some forty minutes later, when Namjoon still hadn’t shown up and Seokjin sent it all to hell. Even Yoongi was there! God, whatever. He could take no for an answer. He didn’t care. Was Namjoon the last man on earth? Seokjin took a gulp of his drink. No. Exactly. No means…
Shit. Seokjin stilled and slowly licked sugar off his lips. His eyes zoomed in on the figure by the entrance, and his stomach curled with want. Namjoon showed up in a white t-shirt and skinny jeans. How the fuck did he still look so hot?
“Ah, Namjoonie! Here!” Hoseok, their HR guy, waved at Namjoon with both hands, and Seokjin shot him a glance. Hoseok and Namjoon had known each other from outside of work, but what exactly was their relationship, and how could it affect Seokjin’s dick-hunting plans?
“Hey, sorry, guys.” Namjoon approached them with a sheepish smile as if his dimples wouldn’t grant him forgiveness even from the Supreme Court. “I knocked over a cup of ramyun and had to change clothes pretty much in the doorway.”
Seokjin exchanged a suspicious glance with Jimin. Who would believe this story?
“Are you serious? Oh my god.” Hoseok laughed so hard he almost tripped over the couch and had to grab Namjoon’s elbow.
“It can’t be true,” Jungkook mumbled with a frown, as gullible as ever, and Hoseok nodded with conviction.
“Trust me, this man is capable of anything.”
“It’s true,” Namjoon added, looking so embarrassed that Seokjin raised his eyebrows. Really? “Sorry, guys. Let me grab something to drink.”
By the time he came back, Hoseok was telling them about his long-distance girlfriend Linh, Jimin scooped over to Yoongi, and Jungkook took off to the dance floor. Nobody paid attention to Namjoon sliding into a free seat by Seokjin. Nobody but Seokjin himself and the spiral of desire in his stomach.
“What did you get?” Seokjin pointedly glanced at the tall glass in Namjoon’s hand. He didn’t really want to know, but he had to start a conversation somewhere, okay?
“It’s cider.” Namjoon shrugged and leaned back to get Seokjin in his line of sight. Seokjin quirked an eyebrow.
“Are you a lightweight?”
“Sometimes. I don’t like getting wasted.”
“Ah, it’s a shame.”
Namjoon chuckled, but it sounded unsure. What, had he never been hit on? Seokjin huffed and looked away, taking another sip of his drink. Margarita had already done its trick on him and left him fuzzy and lightheaded. To Namjoon’s misfortune, Seokjin wasn’t a modest person even in his most sober state.
“Manager-nim?”
“Ah, I think you can call me Namjoon. Outside of work.”
“Namjoon,” Seokjin rolled the name on his tongue, leaning ever so slightly in his direction. “Even better. Namjoon-ssi, can I ask you a question?”
“Uh. Sure.”
“Are you a parking ticket?”
“What?”
“'Cause you’ve got fine written all over you.”
Somewhere to his right, Jimin snorted, Hoseok choked on his soju, and Yoongi eyed Seokjin with a deadpan expression. Namjoon let out an incoherent hum, cleared his throat, and looked away. If it wasn’t for the dim lights of the bar, Seokjin was sure he’d see blush on his cheeks. Cute.
“Forgive him, Namjoon-ssi,” Jimin rushed to explain, obviously trying to bite back a laugh. “Hyung gets flirty after a couple of glasses.”
Seokjin glared at him and raised his margarita. “It’s only the second one.”
“What about that shot of soju?” Jimin quirked an eyebrow, and Seokjin squinted at him. The cogs in his mind creaked. Right. He, Jimin, and Jungkook shared a couple of shots when they’d just arrived, but hey, it was only a tablespoon! Two tablespoons? Seokjin frowned.
“How many tablespoons are in one shot?”
Jimin finally burst out laughing. A traitor. Where was Jungkook when Seokjin needed him? He sat up straight and looked at the dance floor. Actually, it didn’t look like a bad idea.
“Three, I think?” Hoseok said in the meantime with an amused smile in his voice. “Namjoon-ah, you’re the smart one. You should know.”
Seokjin’s attention snapped to Namjoon, and he raised his eyebrows expectantly. So? Did he know?
“Yeah.” Namjoon cleared his throat and nodded. “It’s three tablespoons.”
“How many teaspoons?” Seokjin immediately asked, and Namjoon hummed. He didn’t really look at Seokjin.
“Nine, I guess?”
Seokjin nodded, as if he knew the right answer, and patted Namjoon’s knee. “Good boy. Anyone wants to join Jungkookie?”
Nobody did. Losers.
“Hyung!” Jungkook met him with a bright smile and stretched out his arms to grab Seokjin’s shoulders. It had taken him four shots of soju to get tipsy, and Seokjin felt like they were closer on the wavelength.
Jungkook was a hot dancer, Seokjin had two, no, three buttons of his shirt open, and curious gazes poured on them in no time. One was from a girl, probably fresh out of college, and Seokjin gave her a smile and stepped away. Jungkook, instead, wrapped an arm around her waist, earning a giggle, and they moved deeper into the dance floor. Bisexual perks, huh?
But Seokjin didn’t complain. He had his eye on a nine a few feet away from him, and when the guy caught his gaze and eyed him with an appreciative smirk, Seokjin’s morale was redeemed. Who said he had to be loyal to Namjoon? The world was full of fish, or whatever they say.
The guy – Yejun? Yujun? Seokjin didn’t care to listen – was quick to put his hands on Seokjin’s waist and move closer in the tight space around them. He was older than Seokjin, buff, and gay. Perfect! Seokjin giggled when Yejun’s lips brushed his ear, but when his hands slid down his hips, Seokjin caught them and clicked his tongue. Not in front of coworkers.
“Come on, baby. Are you getting shy?” Yejun murmured into his ear, as if it was the peak of seduction, and Seokjin huffed and put a hand on his chest.
“Not here.”
Yejun’s face lit up. “Are you ready to head out?”
Already? Seokjin laughed and looked him in the eyes. Oh, this guy had some ego. “I’m not so easy.”
Yejun looked caught off guard. First time, huh? They stood on the edge of the dance floor, and it didn't take much for Seokjin to put some distance between them. He didn’t like the bold ones. They rarely knew how to please.
“Uh. Do you… want another drink?”
Plan B, get him wasted. Seokjin barely stopped himself from rolling his eyes. Was it the best Yejun could offer? Pitiful. But, hey, if he was ready to pay for the most expensive drink out there, who was Seokjin to stop him? They parted right outside the crowd surrounding the bar, Yujun squeezing Seokjin's waist with a silent promise before pushing past the bar stools to the bartender. Sure, good luck.
“Hyung! Seokjin-hyung!” Jimin appeared out of nowhere, swinging an arm around his shoulders, and Seokjin startled and turned around only to break into a grin. Someone pushed past them to the bar counter, and Seokjin stepped out of their way. Yejun would find him anyway.
“Hey, I forgot you were still here.”
“Not for long.” Jimin chuckled, and Seokjin only then realized that Jimin already had his bomber jacket on. “We’re leaving.”
“It’s too early!”
“It’s almost midnight.”
Seokjin raised his eyebrows. Did Jimin try to imply that midnight was late? Park Jimin? The man who once showed up at work straight from a club? Who’d crashed at Seokjin’s place multiple times at 4 AM? Who’d danced until the last customer–
“I know what you’re thinking,” Jimin said with a frustrated look.
“You’d go to five clubs in one night.”
“I know.”
“And stay until–”
“I know, Hyung. I know.” Jimin huffed, fixed his jacket, and glanced at the entrance. Yoongi was still there, tapping on his phone. Next to him was Hoseok and– Ah. Seokjin blinked. Namjoon. “But I really want to go now. Do you understand?”
Seokjin nodded. His gaze remained locked on Namjoon, though, who was laughing about something with Hoseok. Dimples. Shoulders. Fucking t-shirt . Seokjin took a steadying breath and looked at Jimin.
“Is it working out with Yoongi-ssi?”
Jimin glanced behind. “Yeah, I… I hope so.”
“Good.” Seokjin patted his shoulder with a smile. So many months, and finally! Ah, he was proud. So proud. As for his own mission…
“Are you leaving, too, Seokjin-ssi?” Namjoon blinked, staring at Seokjin as if he saw him for the first time.
“It turns out I am.” Seokjin shrugged and pulled his coat on his shoulders. The buzz of alcohol had already died down, and a headache settled in its place. It was too late to stay anyway.
Seokjin thought he heard Yejun’s voice when he stepped to the door, but Namjoon held it open for him, and Seokjin didn’t hesitate.
“Ah, this one is mine. See you on Monday!” Hoseok gave them a goodbye smile and scurried to the taxi pulling to the curbside.
Jimin and Yoongi had taken off earlier toward the nearest bus stop, and if it wasn’t for the circumstances, Seokjin would’ve joined them. As it was, however, he was left alone with Namjoon, and anticipation thrummed under his skin. He rubbed his fingers in his pockets. Finally.
“Well, it was fun.” Namjoon checked the Uber map on his phone and looked at Seokjin. “Do you often gather like this?”
“Sometimes.” Seokjin shrugged with a nonchalant smile. “Jimin and I wanted to make sure you felt like a part of the team.”
Namjoon chuckled, but it sounded distant. He cleared his throat, looked away, and Seokjin quirked an eyebrow. He’d been told that his presence was nerve-wracking, but not like that.
“You know, Seokjin-ssi, I think I owe you an apology.” Seokjin raised both eyebrows this time. Oh? “Yes. Um. I have noticed that you’ve been… Paying attention to me? Lately? To be honest, I thought you’ve been flirting with me, but seeing you today–”
“I have.”
“–with Jungkook-ssi and Jimin-ssi, and– And. What?”
Seokjin met the shock and disbelief in Namjoon’s eyes with a calm, almost indifferent expression. He didn’t care to keep it secret. “I have been flirting with you, Namjoon-ssi.”
Namjoon stared at him owlishly, and Seokjin had to snap his fingers to help him blink out of it. Good lord.
“But I– I’m straight.”
How surprising.
“The legend says I was straight once, but I call it slander.”
“I don’t understand.”
Seokjin sighed with irritation and turned to Namjoon fully, his coat open, hands in pockets. The night breeze brushed his wavy hair and cooled the heat of his skin. “What I’m saying is that, gay or straight, a dick is a dick. And I have my mind set on yours.”
Namjoon looked like he’d just seen a ghost. “What?”
“I know how to please a man.” Seokjin took a step closer, holding eye contact, and Namjoon was too stunned to step back. “And I know how to get what I want.”
“But I’m not–”
“I heard you, Namjoon-ssi. Not gay, got it. But are you going to look me in the eyes and say I’m not attractive?” Seokjin raised his eyebrows, and Namjoon said nothing for three long seconds – enough of an answer. “You are a man. Don’t you want to fuck a pretty thing?”
“That’s not– No!”
Seokjin clicked his tongue. Lie.
Car lights flashed on the other side of the street, and Namjoon snapped out of it and staggered away from Seokjin. Ready to escape.
“One last thing.” Seokjin straightened up, and even though Namjoon was taller than him, Seokjin managed to pin him down with a look. “I’ve had dozens of ‘straight men’ drop on their knees for me, and each of them came back for more.”
Namjoon looked terrified. He stared at Seokjin with wide eyes and stepped back, shaking his head. “It’s not going to happen, Seokjin-ssi.”
“We’ll see.” Seokjin smiled and looked at the car beams behind Namjoon. “I believe this one is yours. See you on Monday, manager-nim.”
“And what did you say?”
“I said we’ll see and sent him off.” Seokjin turned on his heels and leaned on the kitchen counter with a smug smile and a freshly-brewed cup of coffee.
Jungkook looked like he’d swallowed his tongue while Jimin smirked and nodded with appreciation. Expected reaction. They sat in the lunch area twenty after eight, sharing juicy stories to stir up their brains before the workweek. The rest of the office staff was split into friend groups as well; nobody wanted to sit at their desk at 8 AM on a Monday morning.
“Hyung,” Jungkook exhaled with an air of awe and disbelief, digging into a bag of chips.
“Don’t you think he’s going to fire you?” As always, Jimin was the pragmatic one. But Seokjin had already thought it through.
“First, I haven’t done anything criminal – at least, not at the workplace.” Seokjin fluttered his eyelashes in the most innocent expression he could muster. Jimin still looked skeptical, and Seokjin rolled his eyes. “Okay, second, Bongcha-nim is still our EVP, and I’m still gonna see her at Mom’s birthday party next month.”
Jimin thought for a second and tilted his head with a nod, accepting the explanation. BTS’ executive vice-president happened to be his mother’s schoolmate, and when Seokjin had run out of money after a series of unsuccessful auditions, Bongcha-nim happened to have an entry-level position for him in her company. It was a far cry from his dreams, but it paid well and made his mom happy.
“And third.” He lifted a single finger off his cup, demanding attention. “I won’t let him intimidate me into obedience.”
“Sure, you are the one being intimidated.”
“I don’t care if he decides to fire me. Nothing will stop me.” Seokjin straightened up and raised his chin as if he was talking about some grand achievement and not blind desire for a big cock. Although at this point, Namjoon’s size wasn’t crucial. It had become a matter of principle.
“Is that why you have your earring on?” Jungkook asked all of a sudden. “Like a statement?”
Statement? Seokjin reached for the silver stud in his right ear and smirked. Yes. He liked how it sounded. In truth, he'd simply stumbled upon his old collection of earrings on Sunday and decided to impress Namjoon. But it could be a statement – of inescapable gayness, perhaps.
“Sure.” Seokjin tilted his head to show off the earring and batted his eyelashes. “Do I look cute?”
Both Jimin and Jungkook groaned in unison, Seokjin grinned, and the door to the lunch room opened. Seokjin pushed away from the counter to give space – and changed his mind halfway through.
“Good morning, manager-nim,” Seokjin said with a shark grin and leaned back against the counter, pretty much covering the coffee machine.
Namjoon looked at him, then Jungkook and Jimin – who also nodded their morning ’s – and said to no one in particular, “Good morning.”
He looked more collected today, more serious; he didn’t linger for a small talk and went straight to the kitchen area as if others weren’t even there. Seokjin exchanged a quick glance with the other two, and it looked like Jimin was trying hard not to smile. Jungkook darted a gaze between Seokjin and Namjoon and reached for his chips again.
“So, Namj– I mean, manager-nim. How was your weekend?” Seokjin turned to him with a smile, pretending like he didn’t see the obvious way in which he prevented Namjoon from reaching the coffee machine.
“It was alright. I went to an art exhibition and binge-watched a series. Do you mind, Seokjin-ssi?” Namjoon pointedly looked at the machine and then into Seokjin’s eyes. Oh, was he frustrated? Seokjin enjoyed being under his skin.
“Oh, sure.” He moved about an inch away, and Namjoon flexed his jaw but said nothing, stepping into Seokjin’s personal space.
“What did you watch?” Jungkook asked, probably not even aware of the tension in the room.
“ Before Tomorrow .”
“I know it! I watched it last week.”
“Is it the one with that Japanese actor?” Jimin joined in, and Jungkook fervently nodded.
“Yeah. He’s so good! You should definitely watch it.”
“With a pack like that? You bet I will.” Jimin huffed, and even Namjoon smiled at the coffee machine. So he liked a gay joke sometimes. Noted.
“I have a pack, too, but you don’t seem interested.”
“Ew, Jungkook-ah, keep your mouth shut, will you?”
“What? I’m just stating facts.”
“ Anyway ,” Seokjin raised his voice over them because Namjoon turned to leave, and Seokjin still hadn’t gotten what he wanted. “We were talking about my earring before, right?”
Like good kids, Jungkook and Jimin simultaneously nodded.
“And how cute it is,” Seokjin nodded and turned to Namjoon, who watched him with an impassive expression. As if he tried very hard not to show his emotions – shyness of frustration, hard to tell. “What do you think about it, manager-nim?”
Seokjin smiled and turned his head, demonstrating the stud. He couldn’t let Namjoon walk away without a single comment.
“I think it’s alright,” Namjoon said after a long pause, and the steady tone of his voice sounded calculated. Alright? Seokjin narrowed his eyes. “By the way, Seokjin-ssi, I sent you a list of potential clients this morning. Have you finished it?”
Seokjin raised his eyebrows. His work hours had started half an hour ago. How was he supposed to go over it already?
“I take it as a no.” Namjoon nodded, as if taking mental notes, and looked Seokjin in the eye. “Arrange it for the sales team and make sure each client receives a call from us. I expect to see a report by noon.”
Seokjin bit back a scoff and nodded. “Yes, manager-nim.”
He put his coffee on the counter and, without a glance his friends’ way, walked past Namjoon to the door. But not before he lingered close to Namjoon, caught his gaze, and lowered his voice, “It’s hot when you boss me around.”
Because if Namjoon thought a demonstration of power would sway him, he was oh so wrong. Kim Seokjin ate men like him for breakfast and didn’t even spit.
“It must be a very hard decision, manager-nim. Very. Hard.”
“Top or bottom? Which drawer should I put it in?”
“Oh, looking fresh today, manager-nim. These pants really suit you. They emphasize your ass– I mean, your legs. Your legs, of course.”
“Ah, yes, seven inches is very good. Perfect. Thank you, sir. When should I expect my cake? Great, my address is…”
The devil was in the details. Small comments here and there. Smiles and glances. Occasionally open collarbones. Seokjin knew how to get the fucker on his side.
Under this gunfire of flirting, Namjoon grew increasingly uptight. He tried to cover it with deadpan looks and amused huffs, but Seokjin could see the tension in his frame. His demeanor changed from amenable politeness to alpha-like hostility – both of which, for the record, did it for Seokjin. Every interaction pushed Namjoon to the edge, and Seokjin quietly watched him with a predatory smirk. Waited for his prey to slip.
“Seokjin-ssi, send a copy to Yuju-nim. We need his opinion by tomorrow morning."
“Yes, daddy.”
The conference room was dead silent when he walked out.
Unsurprisingly, it became the last straw.
“He looked pissed as fuck,” Jimin whispered, lingering by Seokjin’s desk on the way out. Jungkook nodded a few times with huge eyes, peeking from behind Jimin, hands on his shoulders.
“I think you’ve gone too far, Hyung.”
“What if he actually fires you?”
Seokjin waved his hand, not looking up from his computer screen. Namjoon didn’t have enough guts for it, Seokjin had already figured it. Some people just weren’t meant to be evil bosses, and Seokjin wasn’t afraid to use it for his own gain.
“You’re playing with–”
“Oh, shit.”
“Hyung.”
They tumbled over each other like puppies in their hurry to get out of… No, not Namjoon’s way.
“Can I talk to you in my office, Seokjin-ssi?” Hoseok tilted his head with a forced smile and, not waiting for a response, walked to his office. Seokjin sighed and got up. He should’ve seen it coming.
“Do I really have to lecture you, out of all people, on our sexual harassment policy?” Hoseok gave Seokjin an exasperated look over his desk, hanging his suit jacket on the back of his chair.
Seokjin met his gaze with a quirked eyebrow. “I’m familiar with all eleven points. Would you like me to count them? No physical contact, including patting, pinching, stroking–”
“You don’t have to.”
“No comments on a worker’s appearance. No sexual jokes. No invitations for dates. No–”
“Seokjin-ssi.”
Seokjin waved his thumb, counting the fifth one out of principle. “No explicit messages, including photos or videos. I still have that email from Kyong-nim somewhere. Do you want me to show it?”
“No,” Hoseok muttered, defeated, and pinched his nose. “God, why is it always you who gets in trouble?”
“Because I’m irresistibly handsome?” Seokjin offered, although the comment pinched something in his chest.
Was it his fault that their old manager had been a closeted gay obsessed with looks? Or that their company was shallow enough to hang posters about sexual harassment in the elevator yet ignore eight Seokjin’s complaints because ‘Kyong-nim had been in the company for thirty eight years’?
Hoseok gave him a deadpan look. Then, shook his head, sighed, and straightened up. “Namjoon hasn’t written an official complaint – yet . So I’m going to close my eyes on today’s incident and expect that you two can handle it as adults, alright?”
Seokjin made no promise, but, “Alright.”
Hoseok nodded and breathed out. His shoulders slumped, scowl softened. He switched off his professional persona and quirked an eyebrow. “You do know he’s straight, don’t you?”
“That’s exactly what I’m trying to test.”
When Seokjin returned to his desk, a single message was waiting for him. From none other than Kim Namjoon.
meet me at the parking lot at 6:30
and what if i have other plans?
you don’t , – and it went straight to Seokjin’s cock.