Office Antics, Episode 3
Title Office Antics, Episode 1
Rating PG-13
Word Count 4,103
Pairings Baekyeol, Kaisoo
Summary [office!au] Twelve guys and one software startup. Baekhyun’s that new guy, Chanyeol's the guy who falls for the new guy, Kyungsoo has pedo problems, Junmyeon's the oblivious CEO, Kris is the cutthroat CFO, Yixing’s out to get more vacation time, Tao’s a receptionist (sorta), Minseok is a closeted romantic, Jongin’s the intern that actually does stuff, Sehun’s the intern that doesn’t, and Luhan and Jongdae just like messing around.
|| prologue | episode 1 | episode 2 • b ||
Episode 3: Mentoring (II)
For Luhan, the first six hours of his workday are productive.
At what should be 9 am sharp, but is really closer to 9:30am, Luhan will pop open the front door with yawn, casually nod at Tao, and make his way to his cubicle as he throws muted greetings to the passersby. Then he’ll flop down at his desk, resting his head on the surface as he blindly fumbles with his laptop case before sliding his computer out and hooking it to the monitor. It takes him another 15 minutes to warm up as he checks his work email and voice messages, but by the time the clock hit 9:45, he'll be racing through his work, guns blazing. Even on a bad day, he’ll get through two meetings, three calls, model and code a good chunk of data, and still have time left over for a bet or two.
On a good day, he’ll mess with Jongdae. On a great day he’ll screw with Minseok and and on an awesome day, he’ll get around to Kyungsoo.
But then, at what should be at 3 pm sharp, but often ends up being closer to 4:30, the symphony of not-getting-shit-done will begin with the careless bang of the front door against wall, the jingling of one too many key chains, and the low drawl of a habitual greeting, ‘Whatthup Tao.’”
As Luhan hears the muffled shuffle make its way towards their shared cubicle, he’ll finish the last bullet point of the slide he was constructing, staring at it wistfully while pondering when exactly he signed up for the job of a part-time babysitter. He’ll snap out of his trance when he hears the thud of a backpack dropped arbitrarily on the floor, the clank of keys thrown haphazardly onto a desk, and the creak of the swivel chair from added weight. And with a slight feeling of dread, Luhan will scrawl the day’s agenda on a post it, wheel himself over to Sehun’s side of the cubicle, and stick it on the edge of Sehun’s monitor, running a thumb over the top to get rid of the creases.
“That’th it?” Sehun quickly glances at the two items on the list as he pops his retainer out. “There’s only two things for me to do. Well actually technically one.”
“Yes, here let me go over them with you. The first is entering the data from Tao’s security testing,” Luhan taps the first item. “He ran the numbers this morning, so you can find the data on the network.”
“Okay, how many entry points?”
“There’s around 2000, so it’s going to take you awhile.”
“Cool. I get the second one though, so you can skip it.”
“Ah ha, but that’s the key! See, the trick is that it’s all about the second item. If you follow through with it, then you’ve succeeded,” Luhan takes a bright yellow highlighter and swipes across the line. “Number two on the agenda is...drum roll please,”
Sehun rolls his eyes and starts drumming on the table.
“Number two is, ‘Don’t fuck it up.’”
Sehun throws up emotionless jazz hands, face devoid of expression.
“Repeat after me: Don’t.”
“Don’t,” Sehun repeats.
“Fuck.”
“...Fuck.”
Luhan spots Kris rounding the corner and nudges Sehun, “Louder.”
“FUCK.”
Kris walks by at that moment, and looks up from his laptop. He gives Sehun a strange look. Luhan snickers and Sehun looks confused.
“It up.”
“It up,” Sehun finishes.
“Good dog, who’s a good dog,” Luhan gushes as he messily ruffles Sehun’s hair before roughly patting him on the back. “Now be even better and get your shit done.”
“Okay,” Sehun swivels back to his computer, adjusting his hair with strategic shake of his fingers, and promptly pops open Facebook.
“Uh,” Luhan squints his eyes. “I’m still here, at least try to do that discreetly. Also, your deadline is when you leave, which is at 9, so that gives you 5 hours. Let’s see...you need to finish your assignment at a rate of about 400 entry points per an hour, or 6 a minute.”
“I know,” Sehun starts clicking links. “This will take a second.”
“Okay, as long as you know,” Luhan leans forward. “What are you doing?”
“Nothing.”
“He’s in charge of Homecoming shirts,” Jongin sticks his head over the divider, and flings a worksheet at Sehun. “So he’s probably tallying the orders. Also take your damn calc homework Sehun, you left it on your desk again.”
“Oh yeah, you two go to the same high school,” Luhan nods at Jongin. Then he lightly jabs Sehun close to his armpit, “Why is this guy in charge?”
Sehun flinches from Luhan’s poke and a grin spreads on Luhan’s face as he jabs him again, “Someone’s ticklish.”
“Oh he didn’t tell you?” Jongin watches Luhan as he begins to launch a tickling assault on Sehun. “He was voted in as student council secretary last spring.”
“This guy?” Luhan asks incredulously as he dodges Sehun’s flailing hands to get in another poke. “You mean he’s popular?”
“HAhaHA stop,” Sehun wheezes, desperately batting away Luhan who just launched a brigade against his sides.
“Well sort of,” Jongin rests his head on his hands. “I mean, he ran unopposed. But he’s popular too, I guess.”
“Hey, that’s lame,” Luhan delivers one final jab before Sehun leans back just a little too far and falls out of his chair and lands on his back. “Oh shit, are you okay?”
“I think so,” Sehun raises a shaky thumb from the ground, then points a finger at Jongin. “Though I’m not as popular as that guy.”
“Hey, shut up.”
“Yes, Mr. President.”
“What happened?” Luhan looks from Sehun to Jongin.
“He didn’t put his name on the ballot, but still captured more than 50 percent of the votes for president through write-ins,” Sehun sniggers.
Luhan raises his brows, “I’m actually impressed.”
“It’s just because no one gives a shit about elections,” Jongin rubs a hand against his forehead. “The two candidates last year were nothing special. As always.”
“And then we-our group of friends-started this ‘Eternal Leader’ joke,” Sehun laughs. “Because his name is similar to Kim Jongil and Kim Jongun.”
“So they made a fake presidential campaign Facebook group and photoshopped my face over Kim Jongun-”
“No it was Kim Jongil-Kim Jongun’s face was too big.”
“Okay, whatever, Kim Jongil, and put a North Korean flag in the background-”
“And we put slogans over it like ‘Comrades, vote for Kim Jongin for a peaceful and prosperous nation.”
“And ‘The Dear Leader wants YOU to vote for him,’” Jongin sighs.
“It got 178 members on the first day,” Sehun grins. “We didn’t even send out invites. It was fucking great.”
“Then it got out of control after that,” Jongin mutters. “People in the school who didn’t even know me started liking it.”
“How many did it have by the end of the election?” Luhan asks.
“I think 1,132?” Sehun frowns up at Jongin.
“Don’t look at me,” Jongin looks down at Sehun. “I never checked it. But I got a shitload of creepy friend requests out of the whole thing, you bastards.”
“Wait, can I see the group?” Luhan’s eyes grow bright with excitement.
“No, I deleted it,” Jongin sighs. “I didn’t know how I would explain it to colleges.”
“Hey, how did you get rid of it?” Sehun lifts his head. “We never made you an admin.”
“Magically,” Jongin wiggles his fingers.
“Whatever. Anyway, he got a lot of publicity,” Sehun slides his fingers on a strand of hair. “So during election day half the school wrote him down on the ballot as a joke.”
“So are you student council president now?” Luhan looks at Jongin.
“Nope,” Jongin lets his hand swing over the divider. “The administration caught wind of it and counted every ballot with my name on it as an ‘abstain’ vote.”
“It got really messy,” Sehun laughs. “Because both of the legitimate candidates got less than 50 percent of the vote, so neither of them won.”
“Yeah, we had to re-vote five times,” Jongin rolls his eyes. “People kept putting me down.”
“It was so great,” Sehun starts giggling. “Wasted so much of the day.”
“So wait, off topic but,” Luhan toes Sehun with the tip of his shoe. “Does this mean you’re putting a poster-making class over your internship?”
“Student council doesn’t just make posters, we do legitimate stuff too,” Sehun sniffs defensively.
“Really, what are you doing now?”
“Getting ready for Homecoming Week.”
“Okay, and how are you doing that?”
“By advertising the shirts and the dance.”
“And...How is that being achieved?”
“...”
Luhan props his head up with his fist and grins, “Do go on.”
“...through making posters.”
“Exactly,” Luhan sits down on Sehun’s stomach, eliciting a grunt of discomfort. “So save your arts and crafts for school time and start entering data.”
“But it’s really important-”
“See Sehun,” Luhan sighs. “I know since you’re a senior in high school, the new big fish in the pond, you think that you’re the biggest shit on the block right now.”
“What does this have to do with mmphf-”
“Shhpt,” Luhan covers Sehun’s mouth with his hand. “But when you graduate and step around the corner, you realize the world is one fucking large dog park, and you’re just another piece of shit out on the lawn of life, no more glorious than that load that dog just crapped right next to you.”
“Move your hand,” Sehun tugs Luhan’s arm off his mouth, “And I still don’t get mmph-”
“Shhpt,” Luhan moves his hand back. “I’m trying to tell you, as special as your ASB secretary gig is, your internship is a real job that we pay you for. So I really don’t give a fuck about the shirts. Start entering data,” Luhan checks his watch. “It is now 4:45, so now you need to enter 470 points of data per an hour, or 7.8 per a minute if you want to get out of here by 9.”
Suddenly Luhan feels something warm and wet on his palm and instinctively retracts it, “AUGH, did you just ...lick my hand?”
Sehun sticks out his tongue, “You wouldn’t move it.”
“Okay, I’m going to leave now,” Jongin shifts his eyes and slides away.
“What are you, two years old? Aw gross, I need hand sanitizer now,” Luhan wipes his hand on Sehun’s shoulder before standing up. “Get up and good luck, I think you might be here until midnight.”
~○~
For Kyungsoo, the first seven hours are predictable.
At 9 am sharp, he’ll be the first arrive (8:55 when he doesn’t get stuck at that really long light), padding through the empty office to his cubicle with his messenger bag slung over his shoulder and a medium coffee resting in his hand. When he gets to his office, he’ll neatly stow away his belongings, messenger bag in left-hand drawer, jacket on chair, and coffee on coaster, before standing up straight, reveling in the sweet early silence, and thinking to himself with a small smile, mornings are great.
Kyungsoo finds that 10-minute period of quiet the best time of the morning, a sort of 10-minute slice of heaven before the stampede of the office floods through the doors.
Junmyeon is usually first, waddling in with a fedora perched haphazardly on the top of his head, followed shortly by a sharply dressed Kris, and a Minseok with some sort of breakfast material crammed between his maws. Tao arrives next, face framed with hipster glasses and jacket collar popped high enough to brush against the edge of his jaw, pushing the door open by walking backwards while balancing a Starbucks coffee in one hand and a designer bag in the other. Then Yixing will make his way in, headphones slung around his neck (and every day Kyungsoo will wonder why he was driving with headphones at 9 in the morning), and will sometimes pause and hold the door open for a winded Jongdae, who will hold up his hand in thanks as he catches his breath. And a few minutes after that, Chanyeol and Baekhyun will show up at the entrance, Chanyeol’s hand latched firmly on Baekhyun’s elbow as Baekhyun throws confused glances at both Chanyeol and his arm as they make their way down the hall (though Kyungsoo notices the glances have become less frequent and less weirded-out as the days pass by). Then, as some sort of glorified finale, Luhan will throw the door open and saunter to his desk, almost as if there was nothing wrong with being a half-an-hour late (and Kyungsoo supposes there really isn’t, when Luhan is good as he is at his job).
In those next seven hours, Kyungsoo will get everything done and then some. He’ll also get through those meetings, three calls, and model and code a good chunk of data. But instead of Luhan’s bet or two, he gives himself five minutes to prepare himself for the bouts of nervousness that start with the click of the opening front door, a light tinkle from a lanyard of keys, and a low murmured, “Hey Tao.”
As soon as Kyungsoo hears the muted thumps make their way to their cubicle, he’ll quickly scan his already overly tidy workspace, swiftly sweeping away stray eraser crumbs and adjusting his keyboard so it’s even more parallel to his screen than it was a second ago. Then he’ll have a minor panic attack, eyes growing wide as he searches frantically for the post it he neatly etched the agenda on hours ago, whirling around wildly before his eyes fall on the star of bright yellow already neatly attached to the bottom of Jongin’s monitor.
More often than not, Jongin will enter the cubicle when Kyungsoo’s facing the computer, and they’ll exchange pleasantries as Kyungsoo works on a particular string of code. Then they’ll lapse into a silence which broken only by rapid typing, mouse clicks, and the occasional question from Jongin.
But occasionally, on days like today, Jongin enters their shared space just as Kyungsoo is about to swivel back. Their eyes lock, Kyungsoo’s body freezes and he finds that he just can’t look away.
“Hey,” Jongin smiles politely and gently places his backpack in the corner.
“Hello,” Kyungsoo blurts (he flinches, his voice is too loud) and immediately points to the sticky note. “Your agenda’s over there.”
Jongin walks over and reads it out loud, “Keep working on your proposal, a colon, closing parenthesis mark-oh wait, that’s a smiley face.”
“Yeah, ask me if you have any questions,” Kyungsoo prepares to turn back to is computer.
“You know you could just tell me in person what I need to do every day,” Jongin sits in his chair.
“I like being organized,” Kyungsoo mentally winces at the curtness in his voice. He immediately wishes he said something more like yeah, I should, before finding it a bit sad that he needs to create reasons to talk to Jongin.
“Hmm, I can’t argue with that,” Jongin muses, heavy-lidded eyes trained on Kyungsoo.
Kyungsoo starts to get self conscious. He feels his face begin to flush under Jongin’s glare (they haven’t had this much face-to-face interaction for a while) and he begins to squirm uncomfortably until-
“Nice lunch,” Jongin says, and taps the right side of his face. “Pizza today?”
Suddenly Kyungsoo’s cheeks flair and he scrubs his right cheek with his fingers, “Is it clean?”
“Oh sorry, mirror image, other side,” Jongin taps the other side of his face. “Close, closer, a little to the right...you got it.”
“Is there anything else?” Kyungsoo asks, exasperation tinging his voice.
Jongin squints leaning forward slightly, and even though he’s five feet away, Kyungsoo still leans back.
“Right here,” Jongin points to the left corner of his mouth.
Kyungsoo doesn’t take any chances this time and uses his hands to rub both sides of his mouth.
“Am I good?” He looks at Jongin.
“Hmmm,” Jongin scoots forward, stopping abruptly when Kyungsoo scoots back.
“Right...here,” Jongin circles a small section on his jaw and Kyungsoo wipes it with the side of his hand.
“And right there,” Jongin points to his upper lip, and then to his left cheek. “And over there too.”
Kyungsoo brushes both areas with his hand.
“There,” Jongin taps his chin and Kyungsoo wipes the back of his hand against it.
“And here,” Jongin taps his lower lip.
Kyungsoo starts to get flustered, rubbing his face more frantically with each spot Jongin points out.
“And over here,” Jongin swipes the side of his cheek.
“I thought I already got that spot.”
“Mmm,” Jongin squints again. “Nope, still there.”
Kyungsoo grabs a tissue and scrubs the entire lower half of his face with it. When he’s done he looks at Jongin earnestly.
“Hmm, you’re good now,” Jongin smiles, eyes roaming over Kyungsoo’s face before squinting and pointing to the side of his nose, just under his eyebrow, and his temple. “Except...for there, there, and there.”
Suddenly suspicious, Kyungsoo swivels around to the window and examines his reflection. Besides the usual red dusting his cheeks, his face is almost sparkling with cleanliness. He whirls around to find Jongin biting his bottom lip, which is trembling from a concealed laugh.
“Hey,” Kyungsoo tries to glare. But it doesn’t work and his face sports a confused pout-like expression instead.
“Truthfully,” Jongin grins. “Nothing was on your face after the first one.”
“Get back to work,” Kyungsoo tries to glare again, and turns to his computer.
“You really haven’t changed that much the past few years,” Jongin chuckles.
Kyungsoo raises his head.
“You’re still-”
Kai’s next word is partially eclipsed by the bang of the front door and the jingle of too many keychains, and the low drawl of “Whatthup Tao.”
“Oh, it’s Sehun,” Kyungsoo hears the creak of the chair as Jongin stands up. “I’ll be right back, I have to give him something.”
Kyungsoo nods in response, unable to turn around in his efforts to hide his scarlet face. Because he thinks he might have heard Jongin incorrectly.
You’re still cute.
At 20 years of age, Kyungsoo still can’t help but feel strangely elated, even as he peers over the edge of some metaphorical cliff, watching his already wounded man-pride (yes, he still has a pride) get beaten soundly with every thud of his pounding heart.
~○~
“Hey, have you seen Junmyeon?” Chanyeol’s head bobs into Kyungsoo’s cubicle.
“I think he’s out playing golf right now,” Kyungsoo spins around.
Chanyeol looks at the clock, “At 10 in the morning?”
“It’s with his investor friend, Kyuhyun, I think?”
“Ah,” Chanyeol nods and clicks his tongue. “Classy.”
“They’re playing mini-golf.”
“Ah,” Chanyeol nods and clicks his tongue again. “Weird.”
“Oh and I heard you had a lunch date yesterday,” Kyungsoo grins at Chanyeol. “How did it go?”
“Uh...” Chanyeol puffs his cheeks. “Alright.”
“Did anything interesting happen?” Kyungsoo prods.
“Well...” Chanyeol tilts his head and his face slips into a faraway expression.
Kyungsoo watches Chanyeol stare off into the distance for a moment before whispering, “What are you doing?”
“Shhh,” Chanyeol slowly raises a finger to his lips. “I’m having a flashback.”
~•~
Not that Chanyeol was counting or anything, but it took Baekhyun 7 minutes and 42 seconds to finish his phone call. And no, he really didn’t count, but it took Baekhyun 10 steps to get to his office. And seriously he didn’t count, but his heart raced 47 beats per a minute faster when he looked over his shoulder and saw Baekhyun grinning in his doorway.
“So where do you want to go?”
“Uh,” Chanyeol shrugged. “You choose.”
“No, I’m treating, so you choose.”
“Well I’m driving, so you choose.”
“I seriously have no preference.”
“Neither do I.”
“Well.”
“I guess we’re at a standstill.”
“Yeah.”
“Hmm.”
“...”
“...Yup.”
“You do know this area better than I do.”
“...that’s true,” Chanyeol thought for a moment, furrowing his brows deeply. “I guess there’s a Japanese place downtown.”
“Awesome, I already have my wallet with me, so let’s go,” Baekhyun smiled and waved his billfold. As Baekhyun’s eyes crinkled into twin crescent slivers, Chanyeol genuinely wondered how he hadn’t had a heart attack yet.
•
“So what’s good here,” Baekhyun peered at Chanyeol over his menu.
“Hmm,” Chanyeol blinked, caught in the middle of stuffing a large scoop of moyashi into his mouth. He awkwardly attempted to swallow it quickly, eyes flicking up to the corner and holding up a finger as he chewed, “Umuf...”
Baekhyun laughed, “Take your time.”
Chanyeol washed the last of it down with a gulp of tea, “The sushi’s good.”
Baekhyun flipped his three-page menu over, revealing the calligraphic ‘Sushi Menu’ title laminated on the front, “That’s really...helpful.”
“Honestly, I was just going to get whatever you’re going to get.”
“But,” Baekhyun looked at Chanyeol. “You’re the one who’s been here before.”
Chanyeol glanced to the side, “I...don’t eat here that often?”
“Yeah he only eats here like, every week,” a voice laughed from behind, and Chanyeol raised his eyes to see Yixing and Jongdae grinning down from the booth next to them.
“What’s up you guys,” Kris peered from around the corner, and Junmyeon stood up and waved.
Baekhyun hopped up onto his knees and looked down into their booth, examining the food on their table. “Hey maybe you can help us out. What are you guys eating?”
“Well I have-well had-the dragon roll,” Kris pointed at an empty plate littered with ponzu sauce. “It was pretty good.”
“Somehow that fits you.”
“You know what I think is a great choice for Chanyeol,” Yixing kept a straight face as Jongdae smacked his arm and chortled. “The Power of Love roll.”
Chanyeol looked less than amused.
“What’s inside that one?” Baekhyun blinked obliviously.
“Lurve,” Yixing batted his eyes at Chanyeol who pursed his lips.
Baekhyun scratched his head, “Er...okay.”
“I got udon,” Junmyeon tapped the edge of his bowl with his chopsticks. “It’s pretty good since it’s kind of cold today, and you get a lot.”
“Hey that’s a good idea,” Baekhyun turned around to look at Chanyeol. “Even though you said the sushi was good, do you want to get that?”
“Yeah, that sounds great,” Chanyeol managed a thin smile before glaring at Yixing, who is now flashing a hand heart with Jongdae down at their table. He crosses his arms and narrows his eyes, “You two are hilarious. Really. Freaking. Hilarious.”
~•~
“So did Baekhyun have a good time?” Kyungsoo asks. “Oh and how was the udon?”
“Yeah he said we should go out for lunch again,” Chanyeol says, snapping out of his trance and straightening his head. “And yeah the udon was pretty awesome, you should try it next time.”
“So it ended pretty well,” Kyungsoo spins in his chair.
“Kind of,” Chanyeol glances at Baekhyun’s office. “But then at the very, very end, to fill up to awkward silence in the car on the way back, he asked, ‘How is your girlfriend?’”
“So then you clarified everything, told him that you don’t have one, and you made all of that up?” Kyungsoo looks little hopeful.
“Actually I freaked out, stuttered, and told him she was great,” Chanyeol pounds his head against the wall.
Luhan passes by the door, “One day I’m going to write a book about your life and call it ‘Never Get Laid.’”
Chanyeol goes red and splutters, “Well you know, I’m going to write a book about you and call it...”
Luhan looks at him expectantly.
“I’m going to call it...”
Luhan glances at his watch.
“I’m going to call it....’Never Get Paid’...and base it off your...bets,” Chanyeol finishes lamely.
“That doesn’t work on so many levels,” Luhan furrows his brows and smirks. “The first and foremost of which is that I win most of my bets.”
“You know what, forget you.”
“Ooo ooo OOO,” Luhan sings and bobs his head from side to side as he enters his cubicle. “Ah see you drivin’ down town with the girl ah love, AND I’M LIKE-”
“Fuck you, Luhan,” Chanyeol chucks a wadded piece of paper at Luhan’s head. “Fuck you.”
~◙~
|| bonus: You can't spell Sehun without Uh | Boom Chika WoW ||
Rating PG-13
Word Count 4,103
Pairings Baekyeol, Kaisoo
Summary [office!au] Twelve guys and one software startup. Baekhyun’s that new guy, Chanyeol's the guy who falls for the new guy, Kyungsoo has pedo problems, Junmyeon's the oblivious CEO, Kris is the cutthroat CFO, Yixing’s out to get more vacation time, Tao’s a receptionist (sorta), Minseok is a closeted romantic, Jongin’s the intern that actually does stuff, Sehun’s the intern that doesn’t, and Luhan and Jongdae just like messing around.
|| prologue | episode 1 | episode 2 • b ||
Episode 3: Mentoring (II)
For Luhan, the first six hours of his workday are productive.
At what should be 9 am sharp, but is really closer to 9:30am, Luhan will pop open the front door with yawn, casually nod at Tao, and make his way to his cubicle as he throws muted greetings to the passersby. Then he’ll flop down at his desk, resting his head on the surface as he blindly fumbles with his laptop case before sliding his computer out and hooking it to the monitor. It takes him another 15 minutes to warm up as he checks his work email and voice messages, but by the time the clock hit 9:45, he'll be racing through his work, guns blazing. Even on a bad day, he’ll get through two meetings, three calls, model and code a good chunk of data, and still have time left over for a bet or two.
On a good day, he’ll mess with Jongdae. On a great day he’ll screw with Minseok and and on an awesome day, he’ll get around to Kyungsoo.
But then, at what should be at 3 pm sharp, but often ends up being closer to 4:30, the symphony of not-getting-shit-done will begin with the careless bang of the front door against wall, the jingling of one too many key chains, and the low drawl of a habitual greeting, ‘Whatthup Tao.’”
As Luhan hears the muffled shuffle make its way towards their shared cubicle, he’ll finish the last bullet point of the slide he was constructing, staring at it wistfully while pondering when exactly he signed up for the job of a part-time babysitter. He’ll snap out of his trance when he hears the thud of a backpack dropped arbitrarily on the floor, the clank of keys thrown haphazardly onto a desk, and the creak of the swivel chair from added weight. And with a slight feeling of dread, Luhan will scrawl the day’s agenda on a post it, wheel himself over to Sehun’s side of the cubicle, and stick it on the edge of Sehun’s monitor, running a thumb over the top to get rid of the creases.
“That’th it?” Sehun quickly glances at the two items on the list as he pops his retainer out. “There’s only two things for me to do. Well actually technically one.”
“Yes, here let me go over them with you. The first is entering the data from Tao’s security testing,” Luhan taps the first item. “He ran the numbers this morning, so you can find the data on the network.”
“Okay, how many entry points?”
“There’s around 2000, so it’s going to take you awhile.”
“Cool. I get the second one though, so you can skip it.”
“Ah ha, but that’s the key! See, the trick is that it’s all about the second item. If you follow through with it, then you’ve succeeded,” Luhan takes a bright yellow highlighter and swipes across the line. “Number two on the agenda is...drum roll please,”
Sehun rolls his eyes and starts drumming on the table.
“Number two is, ‘Don’t fuck it up.’”
Sehun throws up emotionless jazz hands, face devoid of expression.
“Repeat after me: Don’t.”
“Don’t,” Sehun repeats.
“Fuck.”
“...Fuck.”
Luhan spots Kris rounding the corner and nudges Sehun, “Louder.”
“FUCK.”
Kris walks by at that moment, and looks up from his laptop. He gives Sehun a strange look. Luhan snickers and Sehun looks confused.
“It up.”
“It up,” Sehun finishes.
“Good dog, who’s a good dog,” Luhan gushes as he messily ruffles Sehun’s hair before roughly patting him on the back. “Now be even better and get your shit done.”
“Okay,” Sehun swivels back to his computer, adjusting his hair with strategic shake of his fingers, and promptly pops open Facebook.
“Uh,” Luhan squints his eyes. “I’m still here, at least try to do that discreetly. Also, your deadline is when you leave, which is at 9, so that gives you 5 hours. Let’s see...you need to finish your assignment at a rate of about 400 entry points per an hour, or 6 a minute.”
“I know,” Sehun starts clicking links. “This will take a second.”
“Okay, as long as you know,” Luhan leans forward. “What are you doing?”
“Nothing.”
“He’s in charge of Homecoming shirts,” Jongin sticks his head over the divider, and flings a worksheet at Sehun. “So he’s probably tallying the orders. Also take your damn calc homework Sehun, you left it on your desk again.”
“Oh yeah, you two go to the same high school,” Luhan nods at Jongin. Then he lightly jabs Sehun close to his armpit, “Why is this guy in charge?”
Sehun flinches from Luhan’s poke and a grin spreads on Luhan’s face as he jabs him again, “Someone’s ticklish.”
“Oh he didn’t tell you?” Jongin watches Luhan as he begins to launch a tickling assault on Sehun. “He was voted in as student council secretary last spring.”
“This guy?” Luhan asks incredulously as he dodges Sehun’s flailing hands to get in another poke. “You mean he’s popular?”
“HAhaHA stop,” Sehun wheezes, desperately batting away Luhan who just launched a brigade against his sides.
“Well sort of,” Jongin rests his head on his hands. “I mean, he ran unopposed. But he’s popular too, I guess.”
“Hey, that’s lame,” Luhan delivers one final jab before Sehun leans back just a little too far and falls out of his chair and lands on his back. “Oh shit, are you okay?”
“I think so,” Sehun raises a shaky thumb from the ground, then points a finger at Jongin. “Though I’m not as popular as that guy.”
“Hey, shut up.”
“Yes, Mr. President.”
“What happened?” Luhan looks from Sehun to Jongin.
“He didn’t put his name on the ballot, but still captured more than 50 percent of the votes for president through write-ins,” Sehun sniggers.
Luhan raises his brows, “I’m actually impressed.”
“It’s just because no one gives a shit about elections,” Jongin rubs a hand against his forehead. “The two candidates last year were nothing special. As always.”
“And then we-our group of friends-started this ‘Eternal Leader’ joke,” Sehun laughs. “Because his name is similar to Kim Jongil and Kim Jongun.”
“So they made a fake presidential campaign Facebook group and photoshopped my face over Kim Jongun-”
“No it was Kim Jongil-Kim Jongun’s face was too big.”
“Okay, whatever, Kim Jongil, and put a North Korean flag in the background-”
“And we put slogans over it like ‘Comrades, vote for Kim Jongin for a peaceful and prosperous nation.”
“And ‘The Dear Leader wants YOU to vote for him,’” Jongin sighs.
“It got 178 members on the first day,” Sehun grins. “We didn’t even send out invites. It was fucking great.”
“Then it got out of control after that,” Jongin mutters. “People in the school who didn’t even know me started liking it.”
“How many did it have by the end of the election?” Luhan asks.
“I think 1,132?” Sehun frowns up at Jongin.
“Don’t look at me,” Jongin looks down at Sehun. “I never checked it. But I got a shitload of creepy friend requests out of the whole thing, you bastards.”
“Wait, can I see the group?” Luhan’s eyes grow bright with excitement.
“No, I deleted it,” Jongin sighs. “I didn’t know how I would explain it to colleges.”
“Hey, how did you get rid of it?” Sehun lifts his head. “We never made you an admin.”
“Magically,” Jongin wiggles his fingers.
“Whatever. Anyway, he got a lot of publicity,” Sehun slides his fingers on a strand of hair. “So during election day half the school wrote him down on the ballot as a joke.”
“So are you student council president now?” Luhan looks at Jongin.
“Nope,” Jongin lets his hand swing over the divider. “The administration caught wind of it and counted every ballot with my name on it as an ‘abstain’ vote.”
“It got really messy,” Sehun laughs. “Because both of the legitimate candidates got less than 50 percent of the vote, so neither of them won.”
“Yeah, we had to re-vote five times,” Jongin rolls his eyes. “People kept putting me down.”
“It was so great,” Sehun starts giggling. “Wasted so much of the day.”
“So wait, off topic but,” Luhan toes Sehun with the tip of his shoe. “Does this mean you’re putting a poster-making class over your internship?”
“Student council doesn’t just make posters, we do legitimate stuff too,” Sehun sniffs defensively.
“Really, what are you doing now?”
“Getting ready for Homecoming Week.”
“Okay, and how are you doing that?”
“By advertising the shirts and the dance.”
“And...How is that being achieved?”
“...”
Luhan props his head up with his fist and grins, “Do go on.”
“...through making posters.”
“Exactly,” Luhan sits down on Sehun’s stomach, eliciting a grunt of discomfort. “So save your arts and crafts for school time and start entering data.”
“But it’s really important-”
“See Sehun,” Luhan sighs. “I know since you’re a senior in high school, the new big fish in the pond, you think that you’re the biggest shit on the block right now.”
“What does this have to do with mmphf-”
“Shhpt,” Luhan covers Sehun’s mouth with his hand. “But when you graduate and step around the corner, you realize the world is one fucking large dog park, and you’re just another piece of shit out on the lawn of life, no more glorious than that load that dog just crapped right next to you.”
“Move your hand,” Sehun tugs Luhan’s arm off his mouth, “And I still don’t get mmph-”
“Shhpt,” Luhan moves his hand back. “I’m trying to tell you, as special as your ASB secretary gig is, your internship is a real job that we pay you for. So I really don’t give a fuck about the shirts. Start entering data,” Luhan checks his watch. “It is now 4:45, so now you need to enter 470 points of data per an hour, or 7.8 per a minute if you want to get out of here by 9.”
Suddenly Luhan feels something warm and wet on his palm and instinctively retracts it, “AUGH, did you just ...lick my hand?”
Sehun sticks out his tongue, “You wouldn’t move it.”
“Okay, I’m going to leave now,” Jongin shifts his eyes and slides away.
“What are you, two years old? Aw gross, I need hand sanitizer now,” Luhan wipes his hand on Sehun’s shoulder before standing up. “Get up and good luck, I think you might be here until midnight.”
~○~
For Kyungsoo, the first seven hours are predictable.
At 9 am sharp, he’ll be the first arrive (8:55 when he doesn’t get stuck at that really long light), padding through the empty office to his cubicle with his messenger bag slung over his shoulder and a medium coffee resting in his hand. When he gets to his office, he’ll neatly stow away his belongings, messenger bag in left-hand drawer, jacket on chair, and coffee on coaster, before standing up straight, reveling in the sweet early silence, and thinking to himself with a small smile, mornings are great.
Kyungsoo finds that 10-minute period of quiet the best time of the morning, a sort of 10-minute slice of heaven before the stampede of the office floods through the doors.
Junmyeon is usually first, waddling in with a fedora perched haphazardly on the top of his head, followed shortly by a sharply dressed Kris, and a Minseok with some sort of breakfast material crammed between his maws. Tao arrives next, face framed with hipster glasses and jacket collar popped high enough to brush against the edge of his jaw, pushing the door open by walking backwards while balancing a Starbucks coffee in one hand and a designer bag in the other. Then Yixing will make his way in, headphones slung around his neck (and every day Kyungsoo will wonder why he was driving with headphones at 9 in the morning), and will sometimes pause and hold the door open for a winded Jongdae, who will hold up his hand in thanks as he catches his breath. And a few minutes after that, Chanyeol and Baekhyun will show up at the entrance, Chanyeol’s hand latched firmly on Baekhyun’s elbow as Baekhyun throws confused glances at both Chanyeol and his arm as they make their way down the hall (though Kyungsoo notices the glances have become less frequent and less weirded-out as the days pass by). Then, as some sort of glorified finale, Luhan will throw the door open and saunter to his desk, almost as if there was nothing wrong with being a half-an-hour late (and Kyungsoo supposes there really isn’t, when Luhan is good as he is at his job).
In those next seven hours, Kyungsoo will get everything done and then some. He’ll also get through those meetings, three calls, and model and code a good chunk of data. But instead of Luhan’s bet or two, he gives himself five minutes to prepare himself for the bouts of nervousness that start with the click of the opening front door, a light tinkle from a lanyard of keys, and a low murmured, “Hey Tao.”
As soon as Kyungsoo hears the muted thumps make their way to their cubicle, he’ll quickly scan his already overly tidy workspace, swiftly sweeping away stray eraser crumbs and adjusting his keyboard so it’s even more parallel to his screen than it was a second ago. Then he’ll have a minor panic attack, eyes growing wide as he searches frantically for the post it he neatly etched the agenda on hours ago, whirling around wildly before his eyes fall on the star of bright yellow already neatly attached to the bottom of Jongin’s monitor.
More often than not, Jongin will enter the cubicle when Kyungsoo’s facing the computer, and they’ll exchange pleasantries as Kyungsoo works on a particular string of code. Then they’ll lapse into a silence which broken only by rapid typing, mouse clicks, and the occasional question from Jongin.
But occasionally, on days like today, Jongin enters their shared space just as Kyungsoo is about to swivel back. Their eyes lock, Kyungsoo’s body freezes and he finds that he just can’t look away.
“Hey,” Jongin smiles politely and gently places his backpack in the corner.
“Hello,” Kyungsoo blurts (he flinches, his voice is too loud) and immediately points to the sticky note. “Your agenda’s over there.”
Jongin walks over and reads it out loud, “Keep working on your proposal, a colon, closing parenthesis mark-oh wait, that’s a smiley face.”
“Yeah, ask me if you have any questions,” Kyungsoo prepares to turn back to is computer.
“You know you could just tell me in person what I need to do every day,” Jongin sits in his chair.
“I like being organized,” Kyungsoo mentally winces at the curtness in his voice. He immediately wishes he said something more like yeah, I should, before finding it a bit sad that he needs to create reasons to talk to Jongin.
“Hmm, I can’t argue with that,” Jongin muses, heavy-lidded eyes trained on Kyungsoo.
Kyungsoo starts to get self conscious. He feels his face begin to flush under Jongin’s glare (they haven’t had this much face-to-face interaction for a while) and he begins to squirm uncomfortably until-
“Nice lunch,” Jongin says, and taps the right side of his face. “Pizza today?”
Suddenly Kyungsoo’s cheeks flair and he scrubs his right cheek with his fingers, “Is it clean?”
“Oh sorry, mirror image, other side,” Jongin taps the other side of his face. “Close, closer, a little to the right...you got it.”
“Is there anything else?” Kyungsoo asks, exasperation tinging his voice.
Jongin squints leaning forward slightly, and even though he’s five feet away, Kyungsoo still leans back.
“Right here,” Jongin points to the left corner of his mouth.
Kyungsoo doesn’t take any chances this time and uses his hands to rub both sides of his mouth.
“Am I good?” He looks at Jongin.
“Hmmm,” Jongin scoots forward, stopping abruptly when Kyungsoo scoots back.
“Right...here,” Jongin circles a small section on his jaw and Kyungsoo wipes it with the side of his hand.
“And right there,” Jongin points to his upper lip, and then to his left cheek. “And over there too.”
Kyungsoo brushes both areas with his hand.
“There,” Jongin taps his chin and Kyungsoo wipes the back of his hand against it.
“And here,” Jongin taps his lower lip.
Kyungsoo starts to get flustered, rubbing his face more frantically with each spot Jongin points out.
“And over here,” Jongin swipes the side of his cheek.
“I thought I already got that spot.”
“Mmm,” Jongin squints again. “Nope, still there.”
Kyungsoo grabs a tissue and scrubs the entire lower half of his face with it. When he’s done he looks at Jongin earnestly.
“Hmm, you’re good now,” Jongin smiles, eyes roaming over Kyungsoo’s face before squinting and pointing to the side of his nose, just under his eyebrow, and his temple. “Except...for there, there, and there.”
Suddenly suspicious, Kyungsoo swivels around to the window and examines his reflection. Besides the usual red dusting his cheeks, his face is almost sparkling with cleanliness. He whirls around to find Jongin biting his bottom lip, which is trembling from a concealed laugh.
“Hey,” Kyungsoo tries to glare. But it doesn’t work and his face sports a confused pout-like expression instead.
“Truthfully,” Jongin grins. “Nothing was on your face after the first one.”
“Get back to work,” Kyungsoo tries to glare again, and turns to his computer.
“You really haven’t changed that much the past few years,” Jongin chuckles.
Kyungsoo raises his head.
“You’re still-”
Kai’s next word is partially eclipsed by the bang of the front door and the jingle of too many keychains, and the low drawl of “Whatthup Tao.”
“Oh, it’s Sehun,” Kyungsoo hears the creak of the chair as Jongin stands up. “I’ll be right back, I have to give him something.”
Kyungsoo nods in response, unable to turn around in his efforts to hide his scarlet face. Because he thinks he might have heard Jongin incorrectly.
You’re still cute.
At 20 years of age, Kyungsoo still can’t help but feel strangely elated, even as he peers over the edge of some metaphorical cliff, watching his already wounded man-pride (yes, he still has a pride) get beaten soundly with every thud of his pounding heart.
~○~
“Hey, have you seen Junmyeon?” Chanyeol’s head bobs into Kyungsoo’s cubicle.
“I think he’s out playing golf right now,” Kyungsoo spins around.
Chanyeol looks at the clock, “At 10 in the morning?”
“It’s with his investor friend, Kyuhyun, I think?”
“Ah,” Chanyeol nods and clicks his tongue. “Classy.”
“They’re playing mini-golf.”
“Ah,” Chanyeol nods and clicks his tongue again. “Weird.”
“Oh and I heard you had a lunch date yesterday,” Kyungsoo grins at Chanyeol. “How did it go?”
“Uh...” Chanyeol puffs his cheeks. “Alright.”
“Did anything interesting happen?” Kyungsoo prods.
“Well...” Chanyeol tilts his head and his face slips into a faraway expression.
Kyungsoo watches Chanyeol stare off into the distance for a moment before whispering, “What are you doing?”
“Shhh,” Chanyeol slowly raises a finger to his lips. “I’m having a flashback.”
~•~
Not that Chanyeol was counting or anything, but it took Baekhyun 7 minutes and 42 seconds to finish his phone call. And no, he really didn’t count, but it took Baekhyun 10 steps to get to his office. And seriously he didn’t count, but his heart raced 47 beats per a minute faster when he looked over his shoulder and saw Baekhyun grinning in his doorway.
“So where do you want to go?”
“Uh,” Chanyeol shrugged. “You choose.”
“No, I’m treating, so you choose.”
“Well I’m driving, so you choose.”
“I seriously have no preference.”
“Neither do I.”
“Well.”
“I guess we’re at a standstill.”
“Yeah.”
“Hmm.”
“...”
“...Yup.”
“You do know this area better than I do.”
“...that’s true,” Chanyeol thought for a moment, furrowing his brows deeply. “I guess there’s a Japanese place downtown.”
“Awesome, I already have my wallet with me, so let’s go,” Baekhyun smiled and waved his billfold. As Baekhyun’s eyes crinkled into twin crescent slivers, Chanyeol genuinely wondered how he hadn’t had a heart attack yet.
•
“So what’s good here,” Baekhyun peered at Chanyeol over his menu.
“Hmm,” Chanyeol blinked, caught in the middle of stuffing a large scoop of moyashi into his mouth. He awkwardly attempted to swallow it quickly, eyes flicking up to the corner and holding up a finger as he chewed, “Umuf...”
Baekhyun laughed, “Take your time.”
Chanyeol washed the last of it down with a gulp of tea, “The sushi’s good.”
Baekhyun flipped his three-page menu over, revealing the calligraphic ‘Sushi Menu’ title laminated on the front, “That’s really...helpful.”
“Honestly, I was just going to get whatever you’re going to get.”
“But,” Baekhyun looked at Chanyeol. “You’re the one who’s been here before.”
Chanyeol glanced to the side, “I...don’t eat here that often?”
“Yeah he only eats here like, every week,” a voice laughed from behind, and Chanyeol raised his eyes to see Yixing and Jongdae grinning down from the booth next to them.
“What’s up you guys,” Kris peered from around the corner, and Junmyeon stood up and waved.
Baekhyun hopped up onto his knees and looked down into their booth, examining the food on their table. “Hey maybe you can help us out. What are you guys eating?”
“Well I have-well had-the dragon roll,” Kris pointed at an empty plate littered with ponzu sauce. “It was pretty good.”
“Somehow that fits you.”
“You know what I think is a great choice for Chanyeol,” Yixing kept a straight face as Jongdae smacked his arm and chortled. “The Power of Love roll.”
Chanyeol looked less than amused.
“What’s inside that one?” Baekhyun blinked obliviously.
“Lurve,” Yixing batted his eyes at Chanyeol who pursed his lips.
Baekhyun scratched his head, “Er...okay.”
“I got udon,” Junmyeon tapped the edge of his bowl with his chopsticks. “It’s pretty good since it’s kind of cold today, and you get a lot.”
“Hey that’s a good idea,” Baekhyun turned around to look at Chanyeol. “Even though you said the sushi was good, do you want to get that?”
“Yeah, that sounds great,” Chanyeol managed a thin smile before glaring at Yixing, who is now flashing a hand heart with Jongdae down at their table. He crosses his arms and narrows his eyes, “You two are hilarious. Really. Freaking. Hilarious.”
~•~
“So did Baekhyun have a good time?” Kyungsoo asks. “Oh and how was the udon?”
“Yeah he said we should go out for lunch again,” Chanyeol says, snapping out of his trance and straightening his head. “And yeah the udon was pretty awesome, you should try it next time.”
“So it ended pretty well,” Kyungsoo spins in his chair.
“Kind of,” Chanyeol glances at Baekhyun’s office. “But then at the very, very end, to fill up to awkward silence in the car on the way back, he asked, ‘How is your girlfriend?’”
“So then you clarified everything, told him that you don’t have one, and you made all of that up?” Kyungsoo looks little hopeful.
“Actually I freaked out, stuttered, and told him she was great,” Chanyeol pounds his head against the wall.
Luhan passes by the door, “One day I’m going to write a book about your life and call it ‘Never Get Laid.’”
Chanyeol goes red and splutters, “Well you know, I’m going to write a book about you and call it...”
Luhan looks at him expectantly.
“I’m going to call it...”
Luhan glances at his watch.
“I’m going to call it....’Never Get Paid’...and base it off your...bets,” Chanyeol finishes lamely.
“That doesn’t work on so many levels,” Luhan furrows his brows and smirks. “The first and foremost of which is that I win most of my bets.”
“You know what, forget you.”
“Ooo ooo OOO,” Luhan sings and bobs his head from side to side as he enters his cubicle. “Ah see you drivin’ down town with the girl ah love, AND I’M LIKE-”
“Fuck you, Luhan,” Chanyeol chucks a wadded piece of paper at Luhan’s head. “Fuck you.”
~◙~
|| bonus: You can't spell Sehun without Uh | Boom Chika WoW ||