Chapter Text
Mingyu just kept talking. Wonwoo wasn’t really sure how he managed to keep yapping like that, but he did. And to make things worse, his tiny little office sat right next to the break room: Mingyu’s favorite spot to chat up anyone passing by like he didn’t have a damn job to do.
Wonwoo thought his day would be peaceful this time. The morning passed uneventfully, and even after lunch Mingyu stayed at his desk, diligently working through his paperwork with surprising focus because something important had happened in the finance department. Wonwoo didn’t know what, and honestly he didn’t care, fe was just the IT guy so, whatever it was, it wasn’t his problem. The whole office was buzzing, everyone buried in extra work. Wonwoo figured that maybe it would be enough to keep Mingyu occupied for the rest of the day.
But Mingyu was fast, efficient, and a little too naive for his own good. Because most people in the office knew to drag out their paperwork, buying themselves time to avoid getting saddled with more tasks. But Kim Mingyu? Oh no, not the great Kim Mingyu. By 11 am, his reports were done and delivered, leaving him free to wander the office, flashing that bright smile and handsome face like he had nothing better to do. Meanwhile, Wonwoo sat at his desk, drowning in work, watching it all unfold with resentment.
Wonwoo remembers the fuss when Kim Mingyu was hired with everyone speculating about what he would be like. Would he be handsome? That was Miss Kang’s top priority. Polite? Well, Mr. Lee had zero tolerance for disrespect. Quiet? That one was Wonwoo’s biggest concern.
When Mingyu finally arrived at the company, he was ridiculously handsome, enough for Miss Kang to start fantasizing about their wedding immediately. Polite to the point of charming the entire office, and as loud as a hyperactive puppy. The stereotypical charming alpha, everyone adored him.
Everyone except Jeon Wonwoo, of course.
Life is like that sometimes.
“Excuse me. I’m trying to work, can you move your chatter somewhere else?” Wonwoo finally spoke up, leaning just far enough out of his office to catch Mingyu’s eye in the break room.
Mingyu straightened up immediately, smoothing his hair and flashing a smile before he heard the other’s words. “Oh. Oh!” His eyes widened in realization and he started blinking rapidly. “Sorry, I didn’t think, uh… Sorry.”
The embarrassed look on Mingyu’s face was enough to make Wonwoo satisfied. Good, he thought. He should feel embarrassed.
But small victories don’t finish your work. Wonwoo sank back into his chair, feeling defeated. Somehow, he’d been stuck on the same task for hours and Mingyu’s apology wasn’t going to change that.
– – – – –
Fucking printers.
And fuck this one, specifically.
Wonwoo clenched his fist, resisting the urge to pick it up and throw it out the window because the damn thing jammed on him every damn time.
“You’re grunting more than usual today, hyung.” Wonwoo didn’t have to turn around to know who the voice belonged to. Of course now he had to deal with a jammed printer and Kim Mingyu.
Mingyu had that childlike look on his face, like a kid who was told to stay quiet but simply couldn’t do it.
“I'm not-” Wonwoo caught himself, his voice slipping into a higher, defensive pitch. He cleared his throat and tried again, this time forcing a more serious tone. “I don’t grunt.”
“You do, a little bit. I can hear you hissing from my desk while you squint at the monitor.”
Wonwoo finally side-eyed him, holding the stare for a few moments, but Mingyu didn’t seem to care, because he was still wearing that warm smile that always pissed Wonwoo off. Was he being patronizing? He had to be. Alphas are always so full of themselves.
“Well, that’s because I have a lot of things to do.”
“Oh? What do you do, anyway? Punch the printer when it jams and fix the Wi-Fi? The signal kinda sucks in the meeting room, you should check that…” He said, a teasing smile on his stupid face as he tilted his head.
Oh! So he was patronizing him after all!
Kim Mingyu could act nice all he wanted, hiding his smugness behind fake smiles and false pleasantries. He might fool the entire office, but not Jeon Wonwoo.
Wonwoo saw right through him!
“Yes, I do network maintenance. Because if the internet’s down, no one in this office can work. I also handle data backups so your job doesn’t get lost, cybersecurity to keep your job from getting stolen or corrupted by malware, server maintenance and troubleshooting, overseeing email servers and client applications. I monitor for phishing attempts, because some people here always fall for the same stupid tricks, even though I’m constantly on their asses about not clicking weird links in random emails. But yes, Mingyu, I do have to punch a printer or two on top of all that.”
And with that, Wonwoo did it. He punched the damn printer.
It seemed he hit the right spot, because the thing started spitting out the files he’d been waiting for, no need to open it up and unclog whatever piece of papwr had gotten stuck inside.
Wonwoo did not wait for Mingyu’s reply, he only picked up his stuff and left without sparing him another glance.
Maybe food would get him back on track, he tought. Wonwoo hadn’t eaten anything since breakfast, and his stomach was growling louder with each passing minute. He also knew he wouldn’t be able to focus or get anything productive done if he didn’t take a break. With a deep sigh, he grabbed his jacket from his desk and walked out, hoping the fresh air (as fresh as it could be in the big city) would help clear his head.
The same restaurant, the same food, the same table, and the same waitress. At least the familiarity of it all brought him some comfort, like a small and predictable part of his day that he could control.
When Wonwoo returned from his lunch break, feeling slightly better, he found a vanilla latte sitting on his desk with a little yellow post-it note attached:
Apology coffee. Hopefully with some caffeine on your system you won’t be such an ass. - KMG.
PS: You and me. Lunch together. Pleeeeease? <3
Wonwoo stared at the plastic cup with a big frown. Ass. The word looped in his head.
For the first months, Mingyu had been nothing but sunshine and Hyung, can I help you? and Hyung, you look tired. Wonwoo had spent that entire time waiting for the other shoe to drop, waiting for the alpha arrogance to leak out. Now that it finally had, it didn’t feel like the victory Wonwoo expected, more like a challenge.
He took a sip. It was exactly how he liked it. Too much syrup, not enough milk.
Mingyu is observant, Wonwoo made a mental note. He’s such a stalker freak, he added.
He grabbed a pen and scribbled on the back of the same yellow post-it: Next time, get the espresso shot right. It’s as weak as your reports. :)
And he didn't leave it on Mingyu’s desk. He walked straight to the breakroom and stuck it right on the front of Mingyu’s favorite coffee mug for everyone to see.
– – – – –
The conference room felt like a goddamn pressure cooker. The air conditioning was humming at a frequency that usually made Wonwoo’s very much annoyed, but today, he was way too focused on the man sitting three seats down to care about the ambient noise.
The quarterly project synchronization meeting had been going for around ninety minutes, and the “beef” between the IT department and the Finance-Operations bridge (which, to be fair, was just Wonwoo and Mingyu) was no longer a secret.
“I’m just saying,” Mingyu continued, tapping a stylus against his tablet, the rhythmic tink tink tink making Wonwoo’s eyes twitch. “The UI for the new internal portal is clunky. It feels like it was designed by someone who hates people, or at least, someone who doesn't want anyone to actually find their tax forms.”
Wonwoo didn't even look up from his legal pad, where he was aggressively doodling Kim Mingyu on the gallows, Xs for eyes. “The UI is designed for security and logic, Mingyu-ssi. If it’s clunky for you, perhaps the issue isn't the software, but the user’s inability to follow a simple directory.”
“Oh, come on...” Mingyu leaned back, spinning a pen between his fingers. He flashes a boyish grin, the kind that probably got him out of littering tickets, Wonwoo assumes. “A directory that requires… what? Four different authentication tokens every ten minutes? That’s playing hard to get, Mr. Jeon. And I thought we were past that.”
Hey! Wonwoo’s mind screams, stab his neck with that pen!
“It’s called data protection,” Wonwoo snapped, dropping his pen on the table so he wouldn’t do anything crazy with it. He leaned forward, the light from the overhead projector reflecting off his glasses. “I guess that, to you, everything should be as easy and superficial as a social media feed, but in reality, there are hackers who would just loooove the simple access you’re advocating for. I have more important tasks to do that do not involve making the system prettier.”
“Oh, don't give me that,” Mingyu rolled his eyes, and how dare he? He looked more amused than insulted. “I’m not asking for it to be pretty, I’m asking for it to be functional for the people who actually bring money into this company. While you’re in your dark little cave, the rest of us are losing hours of productivity because we’re stuck in your… digital labyrinth.”
“Well, if you worked as fast as you talked, those lost hours wouldn't be an issue.” Wonwoo replied.
The rest of the table was silent. Mr. Lee was pretending to read a very interesting document, and Miss Kang was slowly vibrating in her seat, eyes darting between the two of them (???).
Wonwoo lifted an eyebrow at her.
“I work very fast,” Mingyu continued, his voice dropping into that playful, low register that made Wonwoo’s neck flush. He leaned in, closing the physical gap between them across the table, seemingly oblivious to the way Wonwoo was gripping the edge of the desk. “In fact, I finished my audit reports two days early. I would have uploaded them, but… shocker!The server was undergoing maintenance again. Was that a scheduled update, or were you just feeling lonely and wanted to make sure everyone knew you were still in control of the Wi-Fi?”
“It was a patch for a vulnerability that your department created by opening that ‘Free Amazon Gift Card’ email last Tuesday,” Wonwoo bit out.
Mingyu paused, and Wonwoo could have sworn he saw a bit of sheepishness crossing his face before he masked it with a teasing grin again. “That wasn't me, that was the new intern. But I love how you always assume the worst of me. You’re consistent, I’ll give you that! It’s almost sweet, how much you think about me.”
“I assume what the data tells me, Mingyu-ssi. And the data tells me you’re a disruption.”
“A disruption?” Mingyu laughed, a sound that felt entirely too loud for the room. “Six months ago, you called me loud. Three months ago, I was annoying. Now I’m a disruption. I’m graduating! At this rate, by next year, I’ll be the antichrist.”
“To be honest, you probably are,” Wonwoo muttered.
“Can we…” Mr. Lee finally spoke up before Mingyu could reply to that, looking tired. “Can we move on to the Q3 projections?”
Mingyu stood up, humming a little tune under his breath as he gathered his things. He gave Wonwoo a wink that felt like a physical assault before turning to Mr. Lee. “I’ve already emailed my projections to the team. If there are no questions that require technical intervention, I have work to do. See you at lunch, Mr. Jeon? My treat?”
He didn't wait for an answer, turning on his heel and whistling as he walked out. The door swung shut with a loud thud.
Wonwoo just sat there in silence. feeling the eyes of his coworkers on him: some annoyed, most of them just awkward. He had technically won the argument by getting the last word in, but his hands were shaking with a level of frustration Mingyu clearly didn't even realize he had triggered.
“Uh, Wonwoo?” Mr. Lee asked tentatively. “Are you... okay to continue?”
Wonwoo stood up abruptly, his chair screeching against the floor. “I’ll send my notes via email. I need to go... check the server.”
– – – – –
For the next few weeks, they traded jabs through digital paper trails and accidental hallway collisions.
The next clash happened on a thursday afternoon. Wonwoo was in the narrow supply closet looking for a specific cable when the door swung open and Mingyu marched in looking for staples.
The closet was barely big enough for one person, let alone two men of their stature.
“Out,” Wonwoo said immediately, not even turning around from the shelf he was rummaging through.
“The sign outside says Supply Closet, not Jeon Wonwoo’s Fortress of Solitude,” Mingyu retorted, pushing his way past Wonwoo to reach the top shelf, his side pressing firmly against Wonwoo’s back, probably deliberate. “Move your elbow. You’re blocking the staples.”
“Well, there’s a sign out sheet for a reason, Mingyu. You can’t just grab whatever you want bwcause you’re too impatient to wait for an inventory update.”
“Oh, please. I’m not waiting three business days for someone to verify that I need my stapler refilled, Mr. Jeon” Mingyu grunted, stretching upward. His dress shirt tugged at the buttons, and because the space was so tight, Wonwoo was forced to look at the way Mingyu’s broad back muscles flexed before squeezing through to reach another shelf, his scent so strong it filled the small room immediately. Really annoying. Everything about his physical existence was a nuisance.
“It’s about protocol.” Wonwoo hissed, spinning around to face him. Which was a mistake, he realizes too late. He was now backed against the shelving unit, and Mingyu’s chest was less than six inches from his face. “But I keep forgetting that people like you think protocols are suggestions for the little people while you do whatever feels good.”
Mingyu stopped reaching. He lowered his arm slowly, trapped in the confined space with Wonwoo, a playful, lazy smirk spreading across his face. Wonwoo wants to bite the cute little mole on his nose off. “People like me? Alpha isn’t a slur, you know. You can say it. It’s okay.” He leaned in just a fraction closer, his voice dropping into a teasing hum. “Tell me, Mr. Jeon, did an alpha steal your lunch money in third grade? Or are you just being a meanie because you like my attention?”
Wonwoo’s heart skips a beat, so he makes a mental note to schedule a visit to a cardiologist.
“Oh, like you don’t tease me every chance you get,” Wonwoo snapped, his heart rate spiking from the proximity. “I’m here working my ass off everyday and I’ve been dealing with shit from the likes of you ever since I joined this company. I know what you are and you don’t fool me.”
“Come on, it’s not like that.” Mingyu finally turned a bit more serious. “I stayed until midnight fixing those projections you tore apart in the meeting, reading manual after manual because I don't want to give you the satisfaction of calling me clueless again.” He tilted his head, his gaze dropping to Wonwoo’s lips for a split second before snapping back up. “I’m working so hard to impress you, and all I get is the cold shoulder.”
“And yet, here you are, failing to find the staples,” Wonwoo said, his voice trembling with a mix of rage and claustrophobia. He reached right past Mingyu’s ear to grab a box, shoving it hard into Mingyu’s chest. “Right in front of you! Maybe if you spent less time looking in the mirror and more time looking at the world, you’d actually see something for once.”
Mingyu caught the box, his fingers curling tightly around the cardboard, frowning hard as if trying to read Wonwoo’s thoughts. He didn't move for a few seconds, but eventually leaned in closer letting out a snorty laugh, his scent, now a stronger, spicy citrus smell, filling the tiny room.
“You’re cute when you’re grumpy,” Mingyu whispered then finally stepped back, flashing one last dazzling, annoying smile. “Anyway. Enjoy your cables, Wonwoo. I hope they keep you warm at night.”
He slammed the door on his way out, leaving Wonwoo alone in the dim light of the closet.
– – – – –
Each step towards the bar was a testament to Jeon Wonwoo’s courage. He had never been the type to socialize with colleagues, with rare exceptions like Soonyoung from the legal department (who, for some weird reason, put in all the effort to befriend Wonwoo himself and would often loudly rehearse his court arguments in Wonwoo’s ear during lunch like a madman). For someone like Wonwoo, a polite good morning upon arrival and a good night before leaving the office were more than enough social interaction for a standard workday.
That was precisely why the invitation to a happy hour right after clocking out had caught him so off guard. On any other occasion, Wonwoo would have politely declined, retreated to the sanctuary of his apartment, and played Silksong with his cat curled in his lap. But today, no matter what excuse he offered, Soonyoung had a counter-argument locked and loaded. Stupid lawyers. So, there he was.
The bar was too loud, smelling of fried chicken andd cheap beer. Wonwoo was tucked into the corner of a wooden booth, his shoulders pulled in as if he could physically shrink away from the noise. His plan was simple: socialize like a normal human being, drink a modest amount, and manufacture an excuse to bolt for the door after exactly one hour. His cat was waiting for him back home.
For now, he found himself entertained enough with the ice cubes in his glass. He already had a few drinks in his system, just enough to make him feel slightly less awkward than usual.
The bell above the door jangled, the sound almost lost in the chatter, but Wonwoo’s eyes darted toward it anyway.
Of course Kim Mingyu came, and even through a slight alcoholic haze Wonwoo could tell the guy looked tired.
“Sorry! Sorry, I’m late,” Mingyu panted, weaving through the crowded tables. He spotted their booth and his face went through a rapid-fire sequence of emotions: relief, exhaustion, and then, when his eyes landed on Wonwoo, a bit of hesitation.
“What held you back, Mingyu?” Seokmin asked, sliding over to make room.
“Just some stuff I had to wrap up,” Mingyu sighed, dropping into the only seat available: right beside Wonwoo. On a closer look, Mingyu looked genuinely drained, his shoulders slumped in a way that made him seem more human. “I didn't think I'd make it at all, but I... I wanted to come for a little bit.”
Wonwoo took a slow, deliberate sip of his drink. The alcohol made it hard to maintain his hating Kim Mingyu face.
“You look terrible,” Wonwoo managed to say.
“So do you.” Mingyu leaned forward, his scent mixed with a citric cologne cutting through the smell of grease. “You look drunk.”
“I am not drunk,” Wonwoo lied, sitting up straighter, which made the room tilt about five degrees to the left. “I am... uhm… optimized for social interaction.”
Soonyoung let out a cackle. “He's definitely buzzed. He's been staring at that ice cube for ten minutes.”
Mingyu chuckled, but it wasn't a mocking sound. He called the waitress, ordered something to drink and a plate of spicy rice cakes, and then turned back to him. He didn't join Soonyoung’s loud conversation. Instead, he kept his focus on Wonwoo.
“Did you eat anything?” Mingyu asked.
“Stole some of Seokmin’s fries,” Wonwoo said.
“That’s not a meal, Hyung.” Mingyu’s voice was gentle, the ‘hyung’ slipping out naturally because Wonwoo’s guard was too low to bite back. “You’re going to have a headache tomorrow.”
“Don't care,” Wonwoo muttered, though he did care. He hated headaches. He looked at Mingyu’s ridiculous crooked tie. It was bothering him. It was an error in the system. “Your tie. It's... it's a mess.”
Mingyu looked down at his chest. “Oh. Yeah, I came running.” He reached up to fix it, but his fingers were fumbling.
Before he could think better of it, Wonwoo leaned towards him. His fingers, slightly cool from his glass, brushed against Mingyu’s neck as he grabbed the silk fabric. His tongue poked out slightly between his teeth as he focused on straightening the knot. In this light, with a bit of booze in his system, he didn't see the big alpha threat. He just saw a dongsaeng who worked too hard and forgot to take care of himself.
“There,” Wonwoo whispered, patting the straightened tie. “Fixed.”
He looked up and realized how close they were. Mingyu was staring at him like he wanted to say something but was terrified of breaking the moment.
“Thanks,” Mingyu whispered back.
Wonwoo cleared his throat and pulled back quickly, nearly knocking over his cup. “Don't get it messy again. It’s a waste of my maintenance.”
Mingyu’s smile this time was real, bright enough to rival the neon signs outside. “I wouldn't dream of it.”
“Stop smiling like that.” Wonwoo muttered, retreating into the corner of the booth. “You have sharp canines, it’s…” Cute. “...creepy.”
Mingyu did not stop, though. If anything, his stupid little grin only widened, his eyes crinkling in the corner of his eyes as he leaned back. It seemed like Wonwoo’s defense revitalized the tease in him. “What? Can’t a man be happy that his favorite IT guy is not yelling at him?”
Wonwoo scoffed. “I’m the only IT guy,” Wonwoo said while taking a comically large gulp of his drink and started coughing right after. “I’m just being… professional. I saw a system error and I corrected it. Do not let it go to your head.”
“I’m sorry to inform you, it’s already in my head,” Mingyu smiled, finally picking up his cup of… soda? Was he not drinking tonight? Wonwoo lifted his eyebrow. “You know, for someone who claims to hate people like me, you’re being so nice today.” Mingyu continued before Wonwoo could question him. “First you fix my monitor, now you fix my tie… are you gonna finally accept my invitation to have lunch with me?”
Wonwoo felt the heat crawl up his neck. “I would rather eat my own keyboard.”
Mingyu laughed. “See? This is why I like you.” He nudged Wonwoo’s shoulder with his own. “You're so consistent. Most people are exhausted by now, but you have enough spite to power the whole building.”
“Someone has to keep this company grounded while you’re off being... whatever this is,” Wonwoo waved a hand vaguely at Mingyu.
“Being charming?” Mingyu suggested, tilting his head, he was definitely back to his annoying flirty self and the exhaustion from earlier being masked by the sheer joy of getting a rise out of Wonwoo. “Oh! You can admit it, Hyung. You’d miss me if I were quiet. You’d have no one to doodle on your pad.”
Wonwoo choked on his water, coughing into a napkin. “How did y- Oh! You are stalking me!”
“I have to say, your artistic rendering of my hair is actually quite flattering.” He ran his fingers through his hair like an idiot. Like a fucking dork. Stupid ass Kim Mingyu. “Even as a stick figure, I look great.”
Wonwoo wanted to get hit by a meteor, like, right now to release him from this. He wanted to melt into the ground and reappear in his bedroom with Kingdom Come: Deliverance 2 already loaded on his PC.
“I really hate you,” Wonwoo whispered, though with the alcohol in his system, it lacked the venom it usually carried.
“I know,” Mingyu replied, his voice softening as he slid the newly arrived plate of spicy rice cakes toward Wonwoo. “Now eat. You’ve already had too much to drink on an empty stomach.”
Wonwoo stared at the rice cakes, then up at Mingyu’s smug handsome face. Before Wonwoo could even reach for a toothpick, Mingyu had already stabbed a rice cake and was lifting it toward Wonwoo’s mouth with a shameless grin.
Wonwoo’s eyes widened, and he opened his mouth, obviously not to eat, but to scold Mingyu for being so inappropriate when a sharp, high-pitched screech cut through the air.
They both froze, the rice cake hovering inches from his lips, as the entire table turned toward them. Miss Kang was staring at the two of them, her hands over her mouth and her eyes practically sparkling. What the hell is her deal? Wonwoo thought.
“Hey, what are you two doing over there?” Soonyoung asked as he leaned in to get a better look.
“Nothing, Mingyu is being a nuisance as always.” Wonwoo said, a bit too quickly
Soonyoung did not look convinced. “You two are like… sitting really close. Like, really close. I’ve never seen Wonwoo-ssi let anyone within a three-foot radius without looking like he was going to deploy a firewall.”
Seokmin leaned in with a mischievous smile growing on his face. “Uhh, is spring finally coming to our sector?”
Wonwoo felt the blood rush to his face with such force he was surprised his glasses didn't fog up.
“Would you shut up?” He hissed.
And Mingyu, for his part, wasn't helping at all. Instead of backing Wonwoo up or acting insulted, he just leaned back, draping an arm over the top of the booth behind Wonwoo’s head.
“He's just being shy,” Mingyu added. “Wonwoo-hyung has a veeery thorny exterior, but once you get past the security protocols, he's actually so cute. Aren't you, Hyung?”
And he actually had the audacity to nudge Wonwoo with his elbow! Twice!
“I’m going to strangle you,” Wonwoo muttered under his breath, though to the rest of the table it probably sounded like a shy confession.
“Oooooh!” Seokmin, Soonyoung and even Miss Kang chimed in unison, their drunken energy reaching a fever pitch.
“The rivals are domestic!” Soonyoung cheered, raising his glass. “To the IT department and finance finally merging! A successful acquisition!”
“Shut up!” Wonwoo groaned, refusing to look at any of them, but he could still hear the low chuckle from Mingyu.
“Okay, okay, leave him alone now,” Mingyu finally said, though he didn't move his arm. He sounded way too pleased with this whole situation. “You’re going to make him bolt, and I haven't even finished my soda yet.”
Great idea. Thank you, Mingyu.
“Oh. I am bolting,” Wonwoo announced, grabbing his jacket. “I have to feed my cat, she’s all alone at home! Good night, everyone!”
Wonwoo scrambled out of the booth, his legs feeling a bit like jelly but his dignity pleading him for a fast exit. He didn’t even look back as he headed for the door. Freedom, at last.
He almost made it to the subway before he heard the heavy thud of footsteps behind him.
“Hyung! Wait up!”
Wonwoo closed his eyes and let out a long, suffering sigh. Seriously? He stumbled, his foot catching on an uneven piece of pavement, but before he could face-plant into the concrete, a pair of arms hooked under his armpits hauling him back upright with ease.
Was he being manhandled? By a pair of big and beautiful arms?
Which is kind of sexy-
No, no, no, wait. Wrong train of thought. What is wrong with you? Rewind.
Which is so creepy and rude!
“Stalker! Stop following me!” Wonwoo yelled.
“Hyung, you are not taking the subway in that state, you can barely walk.”
“What are you doing?” Wonwoo grumbled, his head spinning. “I’m fine. I can… navigate.”
“You clearly cannot.” Mingyu countered, not letting go and Wonwoo wasn’t really in a state to fight back.
He felt Mingyu steering him toward the curb and whistling for a taxi and when a car finally pulled over, Mingyu opened the door and reached for his own wallet. Wonwoo didn't fight him on it, at least he would get a free ride out of all that. Plus, he was just happy to be going home and for once, he was perfectly content to let someone else handle the logistics.
But as Wonwoo leaned toward the open door, his hand fumbling for the edge of the seat, he caught the driver’s look of impatient judgment that made Wonwoo feel uncomfortably small.
Suddenly, the hand on Wonwoo’s arm tightened. The scent surrounding him (which had been a soft and playful citrus all night) suddenly spiked, turning into something sharper. Wonwoo blinked, his sluggish brain trying to process the shift and he watched through a blur as Mingyu’s eyes swept over the cramped, grimy interior of the cab and then settled back on Wonwoo’s face.
Mingyu stepped closer, pulling him back. “Actually, I’m sorry, sir,” Mingyu said. “Change of plans, sorry for the trouble.”
Wonwoo watched as Mingyu shoved a twenty thousand won note through the window. A ridiculous amount of money for a ride they weren't even taking.
The driver’s grumpy face vanished into a greedy smile as he snatched the cash and sped off. Wonwoo swayed, his glasses sliding further down the bridge of his nose as he looked up at the man now holding him upright.
“Why did you do that?” Wonwoo asked in an almost whiny tone, blinking slowly. “That was my escape pod...”
“I’m taking you home myself,” Mingyu said and didn't wait for a rebuttal. He tucked Wonwoo’s arm over his shoulder and began leading him down the street.
“How? Do you have a car?” Wonwoo’s brain was struggling to keep up.
“I’ve had a car for years, Wonwoo. You’d know that if you ever looked out your office window.”
“I look out the window…” Wonwoo lied, his voice trailing off as they reached a… uh… well, Wonwoo doesn’t know cars, but it looked expensive
Mingyu opened the passenger door and carefully maneuvered Wonwoo into the seat and reached across to pull the seatbelt over him. For a second they were inches apart, though Wonwoo seemed to be the only one to notice it, but thankfully in the dim light of the garage, Mingyu looked entirely too focused on being helpful to bother with his usual teasing.
Wonwoo held his breath, at least in this state, the flush creeping up his neck could be easily blamed on the alcohol rather than the man hovering over him.
“Stay put,” Mingyu whispered, closing the door and walking around to the driver's side.
Wonwoo leaned his head against the cool glass of the window. “You’re being… bossy, why are you bossy? You’re not bossy.”
“I’m being responsible,” Mingyu climbed in, the scent of his musky pheromones and more of that citrus cologne enveloping them. “And since you’re currently a safety hazard, you don't get a vote.”
As Mingyu started the engine Wonwoo watched his hands on the steering wheel, big steady hands, very contrasting to the clumsy Mingyu who fumbled with toner cartridges and ties.
“Where do you live?” Mingyu asked.
As soon as Wonwoo gave him his address, the car pulled out into the city lights. The motion made it harder and harder for Wonwoo to stay awake.
“Mingyu?”
“Yeah?”
“Don’t steal my cat,” Wonwoo muttered, his eyes drifting shut. “I’ll hunt you down if you do.”
Mingyu let out a laugh. “Noted. Now sleep it off, I’ll wake you up when we’re there.”
When Wonwoo woke up again, he was already being dragged inside, Mingyu practically carrying him into the elevator.
“You’re still following me” Wonwoo frowned though he made no actual effort to push Mingyu away. In fact, he was leaning into him quite heavily. “I’m calling the police.”
“I’m not following you, I’m accompanying you,” Mingyu corrected, his voice slightly breathy from the effort of keeping Wonwoo standing. They stepped out of the elevator, and Mingyu proceeded to scan the hallway for the right door since Wonwoo was too busy resting his head on Mingyu’s shoulder with his eyes squeezed shut. “Actually, I should just let you go so you can stumble into your apartment, hit your head on the furniture, and die. It would save me so much paperwork.”
Mingyu finally found the right unit. He took the liberty of grabbing Wonwoo’s limp hand and pressing his thumb against the digital scanner to unlock the door.
“Oh, so now you’re threatening me?” Wonwoo’s frown deepened as they stepped into the apartment together. “Typical of your type. Violence is the first resort for the intellectually stunted...”
“My type?” Mingyu chuckled, carefully maneuvering Wonwoo over to the sofa and letting him sink into the cushions. “And what exactly is my type, Mr. Jeon?”
“So glad you asked!” Wonwoo lifted a shaky finger, pointing it vaguely at Mingyu’s face. “Annoying, unpleasant, and crude!” He suddenly turned his head toward a high shelf. “Morrigan! Get him!”
The little grey cat watching from the shelf merely stretched, let out a tiny yawn and remained perfectly still. She looked down at Mingyu with a bored stare, clearly too lazy to even descend for a sniff, let alone socialise with a stranger.
“She’s so feral,” Mingyu deadpanned, looking from the stationary cat back to Wonwoo. “And what kind of name is Morrigan, anyway?”
Wonwoo looked genuinely offended, his brows drawing together in a look of deep, drunken hurt. “Uh, the cool witch from the critically acclaimed videogame Dragon Age: Origins? Ever heard of it? No, of course not. Because you are an uncultured swine.”
“Right,” Mingyu nodded slowly. “I don’t know what I expected…” He sighed, talking more to himself than to the man currently trying to maintain a dignified glare while sliding sideways on the sofa. Mingyu looked around, taking in the clean and minimalistic apartment that smelled so much like Wonwoo.
“Anyway, I should get you some water,” Mingyu said, already heading toward the kitchen, moving through the space with a surprising level of comfort, opening the correct cupboard on his first try. “And maybe some aspirin. You’re going to be a nightmare tomorrow if I don't.”
“I’m always a nightmare,” Wonwoo called out, his voice muffled by a sofa cushion and smiling like he was proud of that. “It’s my brand.”
“Yeah, well, then you’ll be a nightmare with a headache,” Mingyu retorted, returning with a glass and a couple of pills. He sat on the edge of the coffee table, right in front of Wonwoo. “Here. Drink.”
Wonwoo squinted at the glass, then at Mingyu. He took the pills to swallow them, but he took the effort to frown as he did so, because he wanted Mingyu to know he still hates his guts.
It did not work. Mingyu, sitting so close, head leaning on the back of the sofa, face so close to his own, had the guts to smile at that and whisper the word ‘cute’. The nerve…
“Good,” Mingyu whispered. “Mission accomplished.”
Wonwoo handed the empty glass back, feeling himself sink deeper into the couch. He felt uneasy, first because Mingyu was still hovering way too close for his tastes, and second because his expression softened with a look of care that made Wonwoo’s chest ache with a sudden and irrational heat.
Driven by an alcoholic glitch in his logic, Wonwoo reached out and grabbed the front of Mingyu’s shirt, right at the knot of the tie he had straightened earlier. And before Mingyu could even ask what the hell he was doing, Wonwoo pulled him down.
Mingyu stumbled forward, catching himself with a hand on the couch, his face now inches from Wonwoo’s. “Hyung?”
Mingyu was blushing. Blushing!
Wonwoo wanted to both eat him and drop kick him.
So he leaned in, closing the gap until his lips pressed against Mingyu’s.
The kiss was clumsy and tasted like spicy rice cakes and very cheap whiskey, but it was intense. Wonwoo let out a small, frustrated whimper against Mingyu’s lips, his fingers tangling in the shorter hairs at the nape of Mingyu’s neck.
Mingyu, in return, froze completely, his whole body turning into a block of solid heat before he let out a low, shaky groan and began to lean into it. His scent changed, his hands came up to frame Wonwoo’s face, his thumbs brushing over his cheekbones with pent up hunger.
But just as the kiss began to deepen, Mingyu stiffened, let out a ragged breath, and gently pulled away.
“Wonwoo,” Mingyu whispered, he kept his hands on Wonwoo’s shoulders, holding him at a distance even though his own pupils were blown wide with want. “Stop. You’re drunk.”
“But I’m fine now,” Wonwoo argued.
“No, you're not.” Mingyu let out a small laugh, resting his forehead against Wonwoo’s for a second before forcing himself to stand up. “You’re going to wake up tomorrow and hate me even more for this. Though I am willing to try again once you’re sober.”
Wonwoo wanted to argue, and he remembers actually trying to do so. Whenever he had any success in that, will remain unknown because it didn’t take him long to fall asleep after that.
Another thing Wonwoo does not remember is Mingyu leaving; he just remembers the faint, ghostly pressure of a hand tucking a blanket around his shoulders after the darkness took him.
When Wonwoo woke up the next morning was to the stabbing of an ice pick behind his eyes.
He groaned, shifting beneath the covers only to realize with a start that he was in his bed and not the sofa. He was still in his dress shirt, though his tie had been loosened and his shoes were nowhere to be seen. He squinted at the nightstand to see a glass of water and two pills.
It was only then that the memories started flashing back into his mind.
He groaned again, this time with much more feeling and buried his face on a pillow.
There was only one word spinning around in his mind. One little and simple word that could encapsulate this ridiculous situation he got himself into.
Do you know which one it is?
Wonwoo took a deep breath. “Fuuuuuuck.”