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bbhyuckie · 5 years

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Crossed Wires - 3

Find chapter 1 here, or read it on AO3 here.

Genre: Slowburn office romance.

Chapter word count: 5.4k

Warnings: None to note.

By the time Monday morning rolled around, you had only gotten through about three quarters of the take-home work you were supposed to finish. Sue me, you thought, As if I didn’t have other things to preoccupy myself with. Regardless, it still should have been done. You knew Johnny wouldn’t take a crippling crush as a valid excuse for being behind.

If stressing about the workload you didn’t get paid appropriately for wasn’t enough, you also had the issue of Doyoung; he seemed to be a recurring thought. Well, he and his note. It occurred to you rather quickly after finding it that you were not ready to meet him in person, especially at a party surrounded by colleagues. You thought about saying you never went to these things, or that you thought holidays were a corporate scam, or maybe that it was against your religion. But the most plausible thing you could come up with was to pretend the note simply didn’t come across in transit. It would make sense, really. The note didn’t come in a confidential file, so that meant Jaemin must’ve carried it down to you by hand. Papers got lost all the time!

The thought failed to ease your anxiety.

You woke up before your alarm and decidedly could not get back to sleep. You lazed around for as long as you could before finally getting up and taking a shower. You sat in your towel for a while, sipping on your instant coffee and cramming as much last minute work as you could into your laptop. At some point you decided to admit defeat and actually got ready for the day.

You checked yourself in the mirror before you left, and noted that you had looked better. Your outfit was fine; a pair of low boots, black jeans, and a slightly oversized sweater. The outfit wasn’t the problem. Your skin looked tired and your eyes were more puffy than you would have liked. It felt like that contract was going to kill you. You shook yourself off and headed for the door, regardless of your current state.

On the way in to work, you made good on the mental note you had given yourself the friday before. You stopped by a coffee chain to make your resident intern’s life a little easier. Lord knows you would have appreciated it when you were in his position. You begrudgingly bought coffee for the rest of your department, too, though your heart ached when he cashier asked for payment. You scribbled out more of your work at a table while you waited.

By the time you finally pulled into the parking garage of your office, you felt like you should be half way through your day. You were early, still, and got a decent parking spot. Thoughts of which car belonged to Doyoung crept through your mind. What if you had seen him before, heading to his car? What if you had been in a meeting, sat across from him? You wouldn’t have known, and you supposed, neither would he. For some reason, that fact made you feel a little safer. The anonymity of him being a handsome stranger was… nice. It was also better than stressing out about him.

You weren’t exactly sure when it happened, but at some point over the weekend, you had switched from being charmed and having an innocent crush on your partner to being completely and totally on edge about the whole situation. Part of you wished you had never talked about it in the first place, as if that would fight off the inevitable.

“I hope one of those is for me,” a voice lilted at you, knocking you out of your thoughts.

You looked up and saw the smiling face of Donghyuck, swiveling in his chair at the front desk. You had managed to wander into your office finally.

A smile crossed your face. “I suppose one of these is.”

You leaned against your younger friends desk. Donghyuck grabbed at one of the iced coffees and smiled as he pressed it into his hands.

“Isn’t it too cold outside for iced coffee?” he asked.

“Weren’t you taught to never look a gift-horse in the mouth?” you laughed, swatting at him. He blanked at you, like you were speaking Greek. “Don’t find fault in a gift, you brat!”

Donghyuck cracked a smile at you and thanked you for the treat.

“Fine, sure, no fault in the gift. But can I make a comment on you? ” he asked.

You squinted at him in warning.

“You look tired.”

You sighed at that. “Yeah,” you said as you brushed your hand over your face, “I’m painfully aware.”

Donghyucks’ usual light-hearted demeanor shifted slightly and you noticed the worry that traced his brow.

“No,” you pointed at him accusingly, “No. Don’t do that.”

“Do what?” Mark was beside you before you could realise it, and he decided he was going to be part of this conversation, too. You sighed in defeat. He took a coffee out of the carrier without asking.

“The worried thing he does,” you said, glad to see Mark, “Where he looks at you and doesn’t say anything. But he does! With his eyes! ”

Mark laughed and bumped his arm against yours. “Yeah, he’s good at that. Try living with him.”

“Hey!” Donghyuck interjected, pride wounded, “Since when was it a bad thing to have concern about your friends?”

“Oh, it’s not a bad thing.” Mark turned to move towards the hall your department was in, “Just frustrating. Like when you eat my leftovers out of the fridge without asking.”

Donghyuck groaned loudly as you made your way behind Mark. “That was weeks ago! Let it go!”

With that, you and Mark made your morning walk back to your office. You didn’t say it (and he wouldn’t ask), but you were thankful he showed up when he did. The boy had an affinity to be seemingly everywhere at the same time.

Enough time passed before Mark finally said, quietly, “Please tell me I’m not the only one who didn’t finish their homework.”

For the first time in days, the tension you weren’t aware you had been holding in your shoulders released.

“God, you have no idea how glad I am you said that,” you sighed, “I busted my ass all weekend and I’m not done either.”

“That’s what I’m saying!” He whisper-yelled at you, “It’s like junior year of highschool, but… worse , somehow.”

“Corporate slaves,” you conceded.

Mark laughed and opened the lightly frosted glass door to your department for you. You handed out the morning coffee rations to Ten and Jaehyun before finally sitting down into your desk. Much to your dismay, you had an email full of new documents and information; it took your full focus to stay composed and conscious. You found some solace in knowing that the influx of work would pass eventually— but that didn’t help you in the moment.

Your hand was covered by Jaehyuns’, and you realised belatedly that you had clenched your freehand and were gripping your mouse tighter than comfortable. You looked up to meet Jae’s eyes and smiled weakly. He looked just as tired as you did. You relaxed, somewhat, and he ran his thumb over the plane of your hand comfortingly.

You slid your hand out from underneath his and decided it was time to actually start your morning.

In his defense, Yuta loved and cared for you deeply; he genuinely only wanted the best for you.

That being said, he was also known for his unorthodox ways of doing so.

He had mulled it over since he went to your place. His date was good, but unfortunately, he kept thinking about your problems. The irritating part of it all was that they weren’t his problems, but he felt responsible over them. He knew that you would probably, with all due respect, fuck things up for yourself. So Yuta, the humble, generous man he was, had to make sure you didn’t do that. He wanted a fairy tale ending for you (and himself, really,) but he had no idea how to do that.

“Hey Yuta, can I ask you a question?”

Hook.

Yuta looked up from his desk to see Doyoung sit down in the office space adjacent to his.

“Sure,” Yuta smiled, “What’s up?”

Doyoung smiled to himself — in that shy way he was very good — at before finally meeting Yuta’s eyes again. “You know Y/N, right? You worked with her before I got here, I know, but are you two friends?”

Line.

“Yeah, pretty good friends. We hung out this weekend, actually.”

“Ah…” Doyoung pulled his brows together in thought for a moment before saying, “Is she…? Is she single?”

Sinker.

Yuta smiled before he could catch himself and knew his features were painted with mischief. He could tell by the way Doyoung immediately started back tracking.

“I—, wait. I’m just asking because—!”

Yuta decided to cut him off before he hurt himself. “Easy, Doyoungie, I get it. She’s young, charismatic, attractive…”

Doyoung met his eyes again with embarrassed intrigue.

“Is she?” he asked cautiously.

Yuta smiled at the deja vu. He felt like he had just had this conversation, only with pieces moved. He took time to describe the angles of your face, the curves of your body, but decidedly left you ambiguously beautiful. He said you had nice hair, but left out style and cut; pretty, shapely eyes, but didn’t mention color; he was telling the truth, but he wanted to make sure that even if Doyoung saw you, he would have no idea who you were.

“—and yes,” Yuta concluded, “She is single.”

Doyoung nodded like he was processing before meeting Yuta’s eyes again.

“I know…,” he paused, “I know I don’t really know her, or… or anything about her. But she’s really sweet, and I guess I just wanted to know.”

“Get to know her, then,” Yuta said, not missing a beat. “She isn’t that hard to open up to.”

“I was thinking about talking to her at the holiday party. I left a note about it in one of her files last friday, seeing if she was going.”

Yuta tried his hardest to keep his face calm. A note? About the party? And you hadn’t told him? His first emotion was a pang of hurt. He thought the two of you had a heart to heart on friday, and you left out such a valuable detail? He realized rather quickly that that was stupid. You had also forgotten to tell Yuta that you and Doyoung had yet to meet in person. It didn’t shock him that you might have happened to allow a few other details to slip your mind. Alternatively, he thought you may have wanted to keep things private, but that didn’t make much sense to him. Maybe you hadn’t seen it yet. Yuta stopped his rationalizing in order to return to reality.

“Oh? Any response?”

Doyoung laughed slightly, “Well, I’ve only just sat down, so no.”

Yuta laughed politely in return, offhandedly mentioning he was tired before turning back to his desk. It seemed he had more work to do that day than he had initially thought. He would have to make a call to his partner.

You were waist deep in work by the time you heard a gentle knocking on the door of your department. You turned around and saw the sheepish looking face of Jaemin peeking inside. You made a face at him and he motioned for you to come into the hall before disappearing behind the frosted glass again. You opened your mouth to dismiss yourself, but decided you would only be interrupting the other three.

You stepped into the corridor to see the smiling face of (arguably) your favorite intern. There was a note of devilry laced into his feature that you couldn’t quite ignore.

“What?” you asked cautiously.

Jaemin’s smile only split wider at the inquiry. You made another face at him, admitting you were truly lost.

“Oh, come on ,” he groaned at you, slouching dramatically, “There’s nothing you want to tell me?”

“No?” you shifted your weight, “Am I missing something here, Nana?”

Jaemin pouted almost instantaneously, face showing equal parts disappointment and dilemma.

“Okay,” He spoke again, more slowly this time, “I know I’m not supposed to know about this… But what did you say to Doyoung’s last note?”

You knew you looked shocked. Your features must have fallen into something almost cartoonish, slack-jawed and wide-eyed. You blinked at him before grabbing his arm and dragging him haphazardly into the nearest vacant conference room.

“ Tell me,” you said tightly, closing the door and leaning against it, “That you haven’t been going through our files.”

He looked at you bashfully through his lashes. You groaned in defeat.

“I don’t go through anything confidential!” he mended quickly, “I just — I didn’t mean to start reading them, I just dropped a file one day and as I was picking it back up, I saw one!”

You rubbed your temples. This was equal parts embarrassing and troublesome; some of the files had bank informations and other sensitive data that interns were definitely not supposed to read, confidential or otherwise.

“Why did you keep reading them?”

“Well, I—… I don’t know. I was just interested. I thought the two of you didn’t get along, from what you said last time and all. I just wanted to read a few, but it was interesting! You can’t blame a guy for getting emotionally invested.”

“Yes I can! Jaemin, I did not write those notes with the idea that anyone else would be reading those. What if I said something stupid? Or embarrassing? Or, I guess, more embarrassing?”

Jaemin frowned at you. “I didn’t mean to make you feel weird or anything… It was stupid. I’m sorry.”

You met eyes with him and sighed. He looked properly sorry, in every sense.

“I know,” you said finally. “It’s okay, just— No one else can know about this, okay? You could get in trouble for reading files, and it’s probably inappropriate conduct for Doyoung and I to be having personal conversations through business files.”

Jaemin’s winning smile was back. “Alright, on my honor. Not a soul.”

The two of you interlocked pinkies and walked out of the conference room as inconspicuous as possible. You ruffled his hair and parted ways.

You left the office late, hanging back for a while and letting the others leave. Your encounter with Jaemin had left you on edge. Everything seemed off. Who else knew? Had someone already showed him what you looked like? A wave of disquiet washed over you when you thought of how easy it would be for him to just… look you up. You weren’t exactly a social media fiend, but you had a LinkedIn with a photo of you from a few years prior and a private instagram with a relatively recent thumbnail of yourself. Neither were very definitive, and thankfully you had deleted your facebook when you went the corporate route. You were safe- ish from prying eyes, but the thought still loomed in the back of your head.

It was a curious thing that you were so worried about him knowing what you looked like. You weren’t unattractive. Men usually seemed to be pretty taken with you. Hell, Jaehyun had even tried to flirt with you for a while when you had first joined the department (insert flashback to him drunk dancing at a karaoke bar here.) So why was it a problem if he saw a picture of you? You paused. Was it because of how Yuta had told you about him? He checked all of your theoretical boxes. You hadn’t thought about putting people in leagues since you were in high school, but you certainly had started to do it again. You caught yourself saying it the night that Yuta described him, and you were feeling it still.

About twenty minutes after everyone else had left, you decided home was calling. As you hit the lobby, you happened to bump into Sicheng, the Logistics manager. The two of you knew each other well enough, and you would gladly spark up some small talk if you saw him in the break room. You met eyes with each other and a mutual understanding was met; he smiled and fell in step with you, but you were both decidedly tired. You didn’t say anything to each other until you parted ways in the parking garage, and even then you didn’t say much more than a goodnight.

It was a sobering thought that there were far more important things to worry about than abstractly handsome colleagues. The quiet walk with Sicheng was a gentle reminder of that. As you settled into your front seat you wondered how long this would go on. You had a new, albeit smaller, folder of documents to take home. They were thrown haphazardly into the seat beside you.

On the way home you had decided that you weren’t going to be doing your adult homework tonight. As much as you would hate yourself in the morning, you had hardened your heart and decided that if you didn’t get to have a proper weekend, then you could at least have a monday night to yourself. There was a coffee shop across the street from your apartment that you went to on the weekends sometimes; the coffee was better than Starbucks and the wifi was hard to match.

You decided to grab takeout on your way home. As you waited in the lobby of a chinese restaurant you set your alarm for the following morning at 05:30 and winced. The idea of being conscious before eight o'clock hurt enough on a normal basis, but you rationalised that it wouldn’t be too bad after a decent night of sleep. You drove the remaining few minutes home and climbed the ever dreaded mountain of stairs for the umpteenth time, all the while testing your self control in the form of keeping your hands off the egg rolls in the takeaway bag.

After finally reaching your apartment, you dropped your bag and folder on the island and poured yourself the remainder of the wine Yuta had left before the weekend started. You pulled your tired body into bed and wrapped yourself in the duvet. You watched a few episodes of one of your shows, shoving chow mein in your mouth, until a thought dawned on you. You stabbed your chopsticks into the then empty carton and set it on your bedside table, returning your attention to your laptop.

Dumbly, you looked around your apartment to make sure no one could see what you were doing. You tried to write your dirty conscience off as side effects of working in a cubicle setting. With timed, cautious hands, you opened up a new tab in your browser and moused into the search box. The slowly flashing text cursor stared back at you expectantly, like it knew what you wanted to do; like it was inviting you to do it. You splayed your fingers over the keys experimentally, finding purchase over the raised lines of the anchor keys.

Search: kim doyoung |

You watched the text cursor keep blinking at you, the search box decidedly still open and unsent.

Your laptop closed almost of its own accord, and you only noted your hand atop it thereafter. At least you still had morals, you supposed. Do unto others as you would have them do unto you, or whatever. It was about time you got to bed anyway, especially if you wanted to wake up at a decent hour the following morning. You closed your eyes and tried to sleep.

Monday evening you was an idiot . That was about the only thought in your head as you crossed the street to the cafe opposite your building.

The cafe was quiet and warm as you opened the glass door; the forced, heated air embraced you as you walked in. It was empty of customers, save for you. The shop wasn’t quite family owned anymore, but the business was smaller than most, and homey. There were lots of tables for the space and two couches with coffee tables pressed against either wall to your left and right as you walked in. The floors were a warm wood that was covered in lots of areas by rugs that looked like they would be soft. The tables all matched, and the chairs did too, sort of. They were vaguely the same shapes with varying colors of well loved paint fading atop them. The register and kitchen were tucked in the back to the left; pastries were made fresh every morning and were actively fogging little circles in the glass display case they resided in. The walls were covered with art from artists you had never heard of and there was a bulletin board in the back with local community events. The entire space was inviting.

The finishing touch to the store was it’s employees. You were familiar with a few of them, but as early in the morning as it was, there were only two to be accounted for. As the bells on the door jingled behind your entrance, you saw the head of a baker you remembered as… Henry? You weren’t sure. He was rather new and your visits had slowed as of late. Regardless, he peeked around the corner of the kitchen before ducking back. He was quickly replaced by another, smiling face that you were more familiar with.

“Good morning, Kun,” you waved, walking towards the counter.

Kun, as he was, happened to be your favorite barista of the entire establishment. You had met about a year earlier when you had more time to spend in coffee shops. He had a bright demeanor and his appearance seemed to match; radiant skin, happy eyes, and brown, sunkissed hair that always seemed to be somewhere between styled and purposefully messy. He was chronically nice to you when you visited and you made an effort to remember his name. He seemed to remember yours too, calling you by it fondly.

“Y/N! Long time, no see, huh?” He leaned up against the counter facing you, apron pulling taught against his frame as it was pinned between the surface and his hips.

“Too long, I think,” you replied. A smile came over you naturally despite the hour.

“Well, how about you tell me what you want to drink and then we can catch up?”

Kun took your order and adamantly denied any form of payment you tried to throw at him. He said it was too early to charge people for anything, and he didn’t really feel like ringing up the order anyway. You knew that was bullshit, but he shooed you away to find a place to sit while he made your drink. You picked a table near the counter anyway, and opened your laptop to start your work. You opened the folder you had refused to open the night before and caught yourself feeling disappointed that there was no trace of Doyoung in it.

Kun pulled you from your thoughts as he sat across from you. You looked surprised that he was sitting with you, to which he quirked an eyebrow and looked pointedly around the rest of the empty coffee shop. Point made.

“So,” He slid your coffee across the wood top of the table towards you, “What have you been up to? And how can you be working on something already?”

You laughed at that, because honestly, you were wondering the same thing.

“Oh, you know, working my life away. SM signed on a new contract and my life has been hell ever since!” Your tone was too cheery for your words.

Kun smiled sympathetically across from you. “No rest for the wicked, right?”

“None. What about you? Aren’t you going to school?”

Kun smiled, clearly pleased that you remembered the things he had told you. “Yeah. I’m nearly done with my undergrad, and maybe I can finally get a job outside this place.”

“Whatever will I do without you?” You feigned a swoon and leaned your chin on your hand. He laughed at that, and made a comment about you never stopping by anyway.

“So nothing exciting? Just paperwork?” He asked.

You sighed. “Unfortunately. I’ve given up all adventure and liveliness to this contract,” you paused and Kun waited patiently, “Plus, I’ve been adjusting to a new partner recently.” “Oh?”

“Yeah, a new transfer from a couple cities away, I think. He, uh… He’s nice, just… He’s proving to create more issues than I initially allotted for.”

“I’m enthralled,” Kun urged you, honestly wanting to carry a conversation with you regardless of the topic.

You spent the next half hour complaining about your initial encounter, the notes, and Jaemin reading said notes. However, you seemed to skim over the issue of romance for whatever reason. It wasn’t that you didn’t remember to bring it up, moreso that it didn’t feel necessary when you were talking with Kun. Part of you wanted to seem cool for Kun, and romance had always felt decidedly uncool .

Kun waited and listened patiently. You were grateful you had a third-party to vent to, even if you may have been oversharing. You weren’t really expecting any advice, and Kun didn’t give any; he just agreed with you when your tone implied, and grumbled attentively when you said something that was obviously not meant to be agreed with. He begrudgingly left the seat across from yours as the next customers shuffled in, leaving you to finish your work.

He parted with a short comment; “Well, whatever happens with this Doyoung … Live a little. Life is short, and you deserve it.”

You smiled after him. The remark was endearing and you appreciated it. You didn’t respond, instead watching him for a moment as he greeted the young couple at the counter.

You finished working through your take home file with about a half hour to spare before leaving to retrieve your car from the parking garage. Sunlight was beginning to fall through the front windows of the building, and more tired faces were sipping away at their drinks around you. You were tired still, but not the same invasive exhaustion you had felt the morning before. You did need to get out more often, you decided. Being around people that you didn’t know was freeing.

And Kun was right. You were young and charismatic. You deserved to live outside of your nine-to-five. You deserved spontaneity. You deserved to be impulsive sometimes.

You reached into your bag and pulled out the note Doyoung had left in that file over the weekend. You read his neat handwriting for what felt like the hundredth time.

You deserved to be impulsive sometimes.

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