Chapter Text
The office of Zhao & Associates was a place of sterile glass and quiet ambition, but Keonho treated the hallway like a runway. He knew he looked good—tailored charcoal suit, hair perfectly tousled, and a smile that had secured him more signatures than his actual legal expertise ever had.
Then came the new hire, Seonghyeon.
Seonghyeon was blunt, he was efficient, and most importantly, he hadn't looked at Keonho once in the three days he’d been there.
He’s playing the long game, Keonho thought, leaning back in his swivel chair. Intriguing.
Keonho was struggling with the jammed office printer, huffing with a dramatic flare meant to draw attention. He wasn't used to machines (or people) not doing exactly what he wanted.
Seonghyeon walked in. He didn't offer a greeting. He just stood there, waiting for Keonho to move.
"It’s stuck," Keonho sighed, flashing a weary, 'damsel-in-distress' smirk. "I think it needs a professional touch. Or maybe just someone as handsome as you to intimidate it into working."
Seonghyeon didn’t smile. He didn’t even blink. He reached past Keonho—his sleeve brushing Keonho’s arm for a fraction of a second, and cleared the paper jam. He hit the 'Print' button, and the machine whirred to life.
As he turned to leave, Seonghyeon noticed Keonho’s discarded tie lying on the side table, slightly wrinkled. Without a word, Seonghyeon picked it up, smoothed it out with his fingers, and draped it over Keonho’s shoulder.
"You’re messy," Seonghyeon said, his voice flat "Try to look like a professional, Keonho. It’s embarrassing for the rest of us."
Seonghyeon disappeared down the hall before Keonho could respond.
To anyone else, that was a verbal slap to the face. To Keonho, it was a declaration of war and love. He touched the tie where Seonghyeon’s fingers had been.
He touched my clothes, Keonho thought, a grin spreading across his face. He’s obsessed. He called me 'messy' because he wants to be the one to fix me. And that lingering look? He’s practically begging me to chase him.
Just then, Martin walked by, carrying a stack of files.
"Hey, Martin," Keonho called out, sounding way too smug. "Did you see that? The new guy is already marking his territory. He’s going to be a handful, but I think I can handle a little 'push and pull' dynamic."
Martin blinked, looking confused. "You mean Seonghyeon? He just told me your collar was stained and asked if I had any tide-pens because he couldn't stand looking at it anymore."
Keonho laughed. "Exactly. He's looking at me that closely? God, he’s got it bad."
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Keonho decided that Martin was the static in the radio signal between him and Seonghyeon. If Martin wasn’t around to be the shield, Seonghyeon would have no choice but to focus his energy entirely on Keonho.
During a briefing, Keonho took his shot.
"The research on the Edwards account is... lacking," Keonho said, leaning back in the conference chair with a sigh of mock disappointment. He tossed a folder onto the table. "Martin, I know you’re new to this level of detail, but this won't do. I think you should spend the evening in the archives re-running the citations. Alone."
Martin paled. "But—Seonghyeon and I were supposed to finalize the presentation tonight—"
"I’ll handle the presentation with Seonghyeon," Keonho interrupted, his voice smooth. "It’s for the best. We wouldn't want your mistakes reflecting poorly on him, would we?"
He looked at Seonghyeon, expecting a look of gratitude, or at least a spark of 'we’re finally alone' tension.
Seonghyeon didn't even look at the folder. He just stared at Keonho. His eyes fixed on Keonho like he was a particularly unpleasant bug on a windshield.
Two hours later, the office had emptied out. Martin was safely tucked away in the basement archives. Keonho walked into Seonghyeon’s office, two cups of premium espresso in hand, ready to savor his victory.
"Now that the dead weight is gone," Keonho began, setting a cup on the desk, "we can actually get some real work done. Or, you know... talk about why you’re pushing me so hard."
Seonghyeon didn't touch the coffee. He didn't even look up from his screen for a full ten seconds. When he finally did, he leaned back, crossing his arms. The silence was deafening.
"You’re pathetic, Keonho," Seonghyeon said.
"Excuse me?" Keonho’s smirk faltered, but only for a second. He’s playing dirty now. I love it.
"You sabotaged a junior associate's evening because you’re insecure," Seonghyeon continued. "You think this preening, this constant hovering, this 'chase' you’ve invented in your head—is charming? it’s exhausting to watch you try so hard to be noticed."
He stood up, walking around the desk until he was inches from Keonho. He didn't flinch.
"I don't like you," Seonghyeon whispered. "I don't find you attractive. I find you a distraction. Martin is ten times the worker you are, and a hundred times more interesting. If you touch his schedule again, I will go to the board with the logs of your 'management' style. Do I make myself clear?"
Seonghyeon grabbed his coat, brushed past Keonho, actually shouldering him out of the way and walked out.
Keonho stood in the empty office, his heart hammering against his ribs. His face was flushed, his breath hitching. To anyone else, that was a career-ending rejection. To Keonho?
He’s terrified, Keonho thought, a slow, shaky laugh escaping his lips. He’s so overwhelmed by what he feels for me that he had to lash out. He’s trying to scare me off because he knows if I stay, he’s going to lose control. And the Martin thing? He knows mentioning another man is the only way to get a real rise out of me.
He picked up the coffee Seonghyeon hadn't touched and took a sip. It was cold.
You want to play hard to get, Seonghyeon? Fine. Let’s see how long you can keep that mask on when I really start trying.
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The Morning Star Animal Sanctuary was supposed to be a peaceful place excluding the occasional barking fit of the animals there. It wasn't, by any stretch of the imagination, a place for a three thousand dollar beige cashmere coat. Yet, there was Keonho, stepping out of his freshly waxed SUV, shielding his eyes from the sun as if he were scanning the horizon for a lost lover rather than a group of stray dogs.
He knew they were here. He’d seen the sign-up sheet on the office pantry wall, Seonghyeon’s name written neatly within the box and Martin’s name scrawled messily right beneath it.
He’s using the kid as a buffer again, Keonho thought, a confident smirk playing on his lips. He knew I’d see the list. He’s inviting me to find him in a 'vulnerable' setting. Very clever, Seonghyeon.
He marched toward the main kennel, holding a single latte in each hand. He had rehearsed the 'surprise' for forty minutes in his bathroom mirror.
As he rounded the corner of the grooming station, he saw them. The sight was a physical blow to his ego, though his brain immediately translated the pain into 'passion.' Seonghyeon had his sleeves rolled up. He was kneeling on a rubber mat, helping Martin bathe a skittish golden retriever.
Martin was laughing, his face splattered with soap suds. Seonghyeon wasn’t laughing, but his expression was... soft. His eyes weren't cold this time, they were calm, watching Martin’s hands as they worked together to lather the dog. How intimate.
Keonho chose that moment to 'barge' in. He tripped slightly over a hose, intentionally, he told himself and let out a loud gasp.
"Oh! My god? Seonghyeon? Martin?" Keonho shouted, his voice echoing off the metal roof and making the dog jump.
Seonghyeon’s head snapped up. The softness vanished instantly, replaced by a look of exhaustion that a lesser man would have withered.
"Keonho," Seonghyeon said "What are you doing here?"
"Me? I’m... I’m a huge advocate for the paws! I come here every... well, often," Keonho lied, his eyes darting around as he held out the lattes. "I had no idea you two would be here. What a crazy, random happenstance! I just happened to have two lattes—extra shot for you, Seonghyeon, just the way you like it."
Seonghyeon didn't reach for the drink. He didn't even stand up. "I don’t drink caffeine after ten, especially not from people who 'randomly' drive forty minutes outside the city to a shelter they’ve never visited before."
Martin looked up, wiping soap from his eye, looking genuinely confused. "Wait, Keonho, did you follow the GPS coordinates I posted on the office Slack? I saw someone from your IP address viewing the 'Staff Outing' channel this morning."
The silence that followed was agonizing. A normal person would have turned red and fled. Keonho simply laughed.
"Slack? I don't even check Slack, Martin. Don't be silly," Keonho said, stepping closer, his expensive shoes squelching in a puddle of soapy dog water. He ignored the cringe on Seonghyeon’s face. "Anyway, Martin, I think the manager was looking for you in the front? Something about... paperwork. You should go. I'll take over the heavy lifting here with Seonghyeon."
Seonghyeon stood up then. He took the brush from Martin’s hand and pointed it at the exit.
"Martin is staying. You are leaving," Seonghyeon said. "You’re dressed like a department store mannequin, you’re upsetting the animals, and you’re currently standing on a pile of—well, look down."
Keonho looked down. His designer loafers were submerged in something that was definitely not mud.
"See?" Keonho chirped, his voice cracking slightly. "I'm already getting my hands—and feet—dirty for the cause! This is a sign, Seonghyeon. We’re in the trenches together."
"We are not in anything together," Seonghyeon said, turning his back on Keonho to focus entirely on Martin. "Martin, ignore the noise. Let’s finish the rinse."
Keonho stood there for three full minutes, holding two lukewarm lattes, watching Seonghyeon and Martin whisper to each other about the dog's temperament. He wasn't being ignored, he told himself. He was being tested. Seonghyeon was showing him how well he could focus even when his true desire was standing right behind him.
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The Winter Gala was supposed to be Keonho’s redemption. He had spent a week’s salary on a tuxedo that shifted colors in the light, a bold choice that made him look like a mess.
He spent the first hour of the party lurking near the shrimp cocktail, tracking Seonghyeon’s movements. Seonghyeon looked devastating. He was wearing a classic black suit, but it was tailored so perfectly it looked like it had been painted onto his frame.
And, as always, Martin was there. Martin, looking like a lost puppy in a rented suit that was too small for his large body.
Keonho waited until the CEO was making his rounds before he made his move. He wanted an audience. He wanted the world to see the "truth."
He approached the table where Seonghyeon was tucked into a corner with Martin. They were sharing a plate of appetizers, their heads leaned close together.
"There he is!" Keonho announced, loud enough to stop the conversation at three neighboring tables. He clapped a hand onto Seonghyeon’s shoulder. "The man of the hour. And his... assistant."
Seonghyeon’s shoulder didn't move, but his eyes narrowed. He slowly reached up and removed Keonho’s hand with two fingers, as if he were picking up a wet napkin.
"Keonho," Seonghyeon said, his voice a low warning. "You’re vibrating. Please stop."
"I'm just excited!" Keonho turned to Martin, giving him a fake-sympathetic pat on the head. "Martin, buddy, you look great. Really. That suit... it’s very 'vintage.' But why don't you go grab us a bottle of the vintage bubbly? The good stuff. I need a private moment with our star player here."
Martin looked at Seonghyeon, who didn't blink. "I’m fine right here, Keonho," Martin said softly. "Seonghyeon and I were just discussing the merger."
"The merger! Exactly!" Keonho laughed, leaning in so close to Seonghyeon that their noses almost touched. He could smell Seonghyeon’s cologne—sandalwood and cold air. "I think it’s time we merged, too, don't you? No more games. No more 'Martin' distractions."
A few senior partners paused nearby, their glasses halfway to their mouths.
"Keonho, you are making a scene. You are embarrassing yourself, the firm, and most importantly, you are annoying me. Go home."
"Oh, I see," Keonho whispered loudly, winking at a confused secretary passing by. "The 'angry boss' persona. It’s hot, Seonghyeon. Really. But you don't have to hide it anymore. I know why you gave Martin that pen. I know why you 'forced' me to leave the shelter. You wanted me to want you more. Well, guess what? It worked."
Keonho then did the unthinkable. He grabbed a glass of champagne from a passing tray, raised it high, and shouted:
"A toast! To the most talented, most beautiful, and most 'challenging' partner a man could ask for! To Seonghyeon—who plays hard to get, but loves even harder!"
The ballroom went silent. The music seemed to stop.
Seonghyeon stood up, looked Keonho directly in the eye, and spoke with perfect clarity.
"I have never, in my entire professional or personal life, felt anything for you other than a mild desire for you to be in a different room. You are not a 'challenge,' Keonho. You are a nuisance. Martin, let’s go. I think the valet has my car ready."
Seonghyeon walked away. He didn't look back. Martin followed, casting one last, pitying look at Keonho.
Keonho stood there, the center of attention in a room full of people who were now whispering and giggling behind their hands. He felt the heat in his cheeks, the sting of the rejection—and then, like a miracle, his brain fixed it.
Wow, Keonho thought, his heart swelling with pride. He’s so committed to the 'secret' that he just rejected me in front of the CEO, in front of my dad. He’s protecting my career. He’s willing to look like a jerk just so no one suspects we’re a power couple. He’s... he’s incredible.
He took a long sip of his champagne.
"He’s so into me," Keonho whispered to a horrified waiter. "Did you see how fast he had to leave? He couldn't handle the tension."