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ylangelegy · 1 month ago

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unadulterated loathing! 🪄 mingyu x reader.

madame moribble's sorcery seminar has space for only two students this semester. you're forced to make a case for yourself with the one person you despise the most: kim mingyu.

★ shiz university students!mingyu x reader. ★ smau with some fic work. word count for the fic: 2,800~ ★ genre/warnings: alternate universe: modern shiz university, inspired by wicked, academic rivals, forced proximity, use of pet names, feelings realization/denial. cussing/name-calling in the spirit of bickering. this only draws from the setting of the wicked, so the given plot (i.e. wicked witch) doesn't exist here; prior knowledge of wicked is not necessary to understand the story. title is from what is this feeling. ★ footnotes: wrote this in one deranged sitting, but this is an early christmas gift for my favorite gyuldaengie, @maplegyu! 🎁 not quite the fiyero!mingyu agenda we have, but still in the same verse. ilysb. ♡

Mingyu has spent the better half of his years in Shiz going toe to toe with you.

It's to be expected, really. The two of you are the brightest of your age, tearing through your academics with ruthless precision. He always raises his hand in class. You can recite book passages word for word.

Both of you are hard to ignore, and neither of you are about to back down.

This application for the coveted Sorcery Seminar is yet another curveball that you two must navigate. You would think that after the disastrous Life Science group work in freshman year— or the Runes incident in sophomore year— that the higher-ups would know better than to force you and Mingyu into any sort of proximity.

But Madame Morrible seems intent on getting the last laugh, and Mingyu will go down swinging, if he must.

That doesn't mean he can't have a little fun, though. He shows up at the Quad at exactly five in the afternoon, making his leisurely way towards you. Everything about him is seemingly perfect. His pressed, navy blazer. His coifed dark hair.

Even the way he carries himself— practically swaggering to where you're waiting, less-than-amused— has people making way for him.

"Why the long face?" Mingyu asks sweetly in lieu of a greeting.

Your answer is curt, bordering cold. "Nothing."

Youch. "Ice queen," Mingyu mumbles under his breath as he settles onto the bench next to you.

You shoot him a glare. He flashes you a winning smile.

This was the nature of your 'relationship', or admitted lack thereof. It was a push-and-pull of Mingyu getting on your nerves every so often, of him testing how far he can draw it out before you crack.

You had your moments, though, where you could also drive him up the metaphorical wall. Like this afternoon, for instance.

You talk over him more than once. You shoot down every single idea he proposes. And you keep shifting restlessly— prompting your knee to bump into his, your elbow to hit his ribs.

When you accidentally step on the tips of his shoes in your animated, passionate denial of his nth concept, Mingyu has had just about enough.

His hand darts out until his fingers are wrapped around your wrist. Not to bruise or control, just to draw your attention to all your exaggerated movements.

"Could you stop that?" he hisses, his eyes flashing with annoyance. "I swear to the Wizard, I'm going to come out of this meeting battered and bruised."

You coo at him in retaliation, your voice sickly sweet. "Aw, what is it? Gyu-Gyu of Gillkins can't handle a little roughhousing?"

Oh, it's like that? Mingyu lets out a derisive huff before dropping your hand. You give him the small concession of scooting a bit further down the bench, putting some much-needed distance between the two of you.

Mingyu's not about to let your little jab slide, though. "You talk big game for someone who goes running in the other direction whenever there's a spider around," he says wryly.

Your response is defensive, sending the two of you shuttling down your typical back-and-forth. "That was one time! Might I remind you that you once thought river fairies were mayflies?"

"Bringing up stuff from freshman year, huh? I vaguely recall you mixing up Bunbury and Bunnybury for years—"

"You still can't cast a half-decent Alarte Ascendare charm—"

"And your voice cracks whenever you try to hit the high note in Dear Old Shiz—"

"Okay, enough!"

Mingyu presses his lips tight in a poor attempt to hide his smirk. Your expression is positively murderous, contorted in one of sheer annoyance.

No, annoyance is too light of a word, too generous of a feeling. Your flushed face and Mingyu's jackhammer pulse are not mere products of some petty vexation, some harmless flirtation.

It's unadulterated loathing. True, deep loathing; total detestation.

You loathe Mingyu, and Mingyu loathes you.

As you pull the plug on your short-lived brainstorming session, marching off towards your dormitory with a dramatic flourish, Mingyu can't help but revel in the feeling. He feels like he just ran a damn marathon, all from spending twenty minutes of bickering with you.

Odd as it may seem, Mingyu has never felt so alive.

Even though you don't say it, Mingyu knows you think his idea is good.

He can see it in your acquiescence, in the way you let him run his mouth just a little more. He wants to preen over getting this little upper-hand, no matter how insignificant it may be. The two of you are working on something he suggested.

You can call him all the nasty names in the book, but your begrudging acceptance is like a trophy to him.

It's why he's so cheery as the two of you reconvene to flesh out the project. You're benevolent enough to let Mingyu wax poetics about cursed objects being integral to Oz's landscape, though you keep him from rambling when he tries to position himself as the more brilliant one between the two of you.

"Don't get cocky," you warn as you lay out the material you'll be working on for the day.

"Methinks the lady doth protest too much," Mingyu shoots back, though he does give in and shut up for once. He's not about to push his luck. It's only half-time, after all, and he has a whole lot more of winning to do.

The two of you had agreed on flowers. For a moment, neither of you do anything about the assortment of blooms laid out on the desk in front of you. It takes Mingyu a beat too long to realize that you're looking up at him.

"What?" His free hand— the one not holding his practice wand— reaches up to his cheek. "Is there something on my face?"

The unamused glare you give him almost makes him chuckle.

"It was your idea," you point out. "So you start us off."

Ah. Mingyu knows you'll tear him a new one if he tells you the truth, which is that he didn't really think he'd get this far.

He was fully prepared for the two of you to disagree until the deadline, or to perhaps start groveling at Madame Morrible's feet for a new partner.

With this half-baked idea, though, the two of you are more likely to have to see this affair to completion.

"Right." Mingyu squares his shoulders, eyeing the flowers atop the table. "I suppose we could, er, start with some basic curses."

There's a Cheshire cat-like grin on your face that Mingyu doesn't like one bit. He steels himself for the blow, which inevitably lands in you saying, "You have no idea what we're supposed to do."

He scrunches up his nose in an expression of mock displeasure. "We're going to show off practical knowledge of enchantments," he rattles off. "Provide insight into the ethical implications of magical creations. Equip sorcerers with problem-solving skills necessitated by—"

You cut into Mingyu's tirade with a dismissive wave of your own wand.

"Blah, blah, blah," you drawl. "Ethics, insight, got it. But application? What about that, Kim?"

Mingyu has to bite back a curse from slipping past his lips. You're so infuriating. He wants to wipe that smug look off of your face, though he isn't exactly sure how he might go about that just yet.

"Maybe you want to contribute something," he grumbles, his lower lip jutting out in an almost-pout. "I already came up with the idea of the project, sweets."

Anyone else who might've been on the receiving end of Mingyu's pet names might have swooned. You always bristled, acting like he had uttered something vile.

Today, you remain perfectly unperturbed, content to have Mingyu squirm as you roll up the sleeves of your school blouse.

"Watch and weep," you say, your wand poised over the flowers.

There's nothing Mingyu hates more, really, than the reminder of just how good you are. The two of you were academic monsters to begin with, though you had your respective strengths and weaknesses. Mingyu excelled in theories; you dominated practice.

In some alternate universe, the two of you might have been an unstoppable duo. As it is, though, Mingyu can only hope that your fragile truce will hold long enough to secure you both that class slot.

He tries his darndest to keep his awe at bay as you mumble incantations. The curses you leave on the flowers seem to be mostly minor.

The daisy's leaves begin to flutter like propellers. The carnation starts to rapidly change colors. The rose goes through a constant process of wilting and rebirth, the dried petals pooling on the table with each cycle.

When Mingyu steals a glance at you, he notices the sweat beading your temples. Magic took a lot out of a person, and to cast three spells in a row was no joke.

"First, we should do a magical construction analysis." Your voice is a little tighter, a little more strained. Probably from the exhaustion. "And then a de-cursing process. Strategies and techniques for reversing or neutralizing the curse."

You go on to talk about how your demonstration for Madame Morrible should go— something about a live reversal or containment of a curse, and a detailed explanation of their findings— but Mingyu is only half-listening.

His eyes keep flitting to your quivering fingertips. His own hands twitch in his lap.

It's a sudden feeling. It's a new feeling.

Mingyu never thought he'd care for you, and yet here he is with his aborted attempt to reach out, to soothe, to comfort.

In between piles of schoolwork and preparations for the demonstration, Mingyu hardly has any time to notice the shifts in your relationship. You don't seem any the wiser, either, which is saying something. You tended to have a better emotional quotient than his overdramatic self, anyhow.

But there are shifts. Small changes in the day to day that are imperceptible to the less-discerning eye.

The two of you remain cutthroat in the classroom, drawing your peers' ire with your relentless rivalry. Behind closed doors, though, there's something more akin to… civility?

Mingyu wouldn't dare call it friendship. He's not that naive. He just knows there's an ounce of kindness, now. Some self-imposed restraint, some begrudging respect.

As the two of you move on to executing more complicated curses, the changing dynamic bears down in the most glaring ways.

"Enough."

The word comes out as a wheeze, but Mingyu injects it with just enough authority to have you pause. You don't look any better than he does. You're folded in half, your hands resting on your knees as you try to catch your breath.

The spell that neither of you could conjure just yet involved a hand mirror and an ancient curse. So far, all the two of you have managed is to make the mirror sing.

"Let's— take a break," Mingyu offers.

Your response is to be expected. "I don't need a break. I need to get this stupid curse right."

A muscle in Mingyu's jaw jumps. He stares down at you with a look of sheer incredulity, and you only return his glare with a defiant one of your own. Someplace else— with someone else— the electricity crackling between the two of you might have been sexual tension.

Alas, Mingyu knows it's nothing more than your shared animosity.

… Right?

He breaks the silence with a mumble of, "I need a break. Give me five minutes."

Honestly, Mingyu could keep going. He thinks he has it in him to try and cast the spell a couple more times, but he's willing to look weak if it means getting you to pause.

You don't even have a snappy retort or a smartass insult to his declaration. All you give is a jerky nod of your head before you lumber off towards the nearest chair in the otherwise-empty classroom. A peculiar expression flashes across Mingyu's face as he watches you walk, almost like every step that you take is an effort. You miss the look in favor of practically collapsing on to one of the desks.

"Wizard Almighty," Mingyu cusses lowly. He reaches your side in a couple of strides, though he pauses with his hand hovering over your shoulder.

At the last moment, he clenches his hand into a fist and draws back.

"Is this seminar class really worth dying for?" he muses, shoving his hands into the pockets of his slacks.

"I'm not— dying," you choke out. "I just need— a—"

There's an edge of exasperation in Mingyu's tone. "You need a break. It's just me. You can admit that."

Before you can shoot back, Mingyu wanders off to his backpack. He digs through it for a moment before he can procure his water bottle, which he wordlessly places onto the desk you're on.

You give a quiet sound of appreciation before uncorking the bottle and taking a long swig. The rehydration seems to invigorate you in the slightest, enough for you to straighten to your full height. Mingyu holds back on teasing you over the way you've emptied his drink.

The first words you say after you've caught your breath are "It's because it's you."

Mingyu's eyebrows knit together in confusion. He tilts his head to one side, looking every bit like the confused puppy he's often likened to. "Pardon?"

"You said— I can admit that I need a break, because it's just you." You place Mingyu's water bottle down, your hands bracing the edge of the desk as you speak. You're looking up at Mingyu, but you're not quite looking at him. It's like your gaze is fixed on something just beyond his line of sight, and it hits him that you're avoiding his gaze.

You clarify, "I didn't want to admit that I needed a break to you."

His immediate reaction is to protest. To laugh and call you stupid, to question your faulty logic. But when Mingyu's lips part, the insult at the very tip of his tongue—

He finds that his words are just out of reach.

Because, for better or for worse, he understands where you're coming from. The two of you have exploited each other's weaknesses, have poked and prodded holes into each other's defenses. Why should this be any different?

There's an inexplicable twinge in Mingyu's chest. A tangible, physical tightening, over the spot where his heart is.

He had wanted it to be different. He doesn't know why, but he thought that this might make things different.

Instead, he manages to push out a heatless, "Right. That adds up."

Neither of you say anything for a while. The five-minute break stretches into seven, then ten. Right before the fifteen-minute mark, you say, "I think we should call it a day."

Mingyu— who has spent the past quarter of an hour trying to untangle his thoughts— jumps at the suggestion.

"Definitely," he says a little too enthusiastically. "Yeah, yeah. Let's… tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow. Same time?"

"Got it."

You gather your things and begin to make your way out of the classroom. Mingyu moves a little slower, not wanting to have to prolong any conversation if the two of you were to leave together.

He thinks he'll never have an answer to the question clanging in his mind until you pause halfway out of the door.

"Kim Mingyu."

He freezes in the middle of adjusting his bag strap over his shoulder. "Hm?" he hums, trying his best to act noncommittal even though his entire posture is already defensive in nature.

The sight of it seems to amuse you, because the ghost of a smile tugs at your lips. It's not a smile that you've ever given him. He's seen it in the corner of his eye, witnessed you dole it out to underclassmen and friends. And maybe he's always been a bit envious, a bit desperate to be on the receiving end of it.

Now that he is, he feels like he just got punched in the gut.

"Thank you," you say.

Plain, simple, unadorned. No explanation. It could be grace for the water. Grace for the break. Grace for the partnership. Mingyu doesn't know, doesn't care. He'll take what you have to give.

His mind tries to conjure the perfect response, one that might have you feeling the same way that he is. No problem or you're welcome or it's just me, sunshine.

What he eventually settles on is an exhale of "Always."

He wants to kick himself for it. Who the hell says 'always' to 'thank you'? a chiding voice screams in the back of his head. What does that even mean?!

He winces outwardly. Your smile widens slightly, just enough to throw him off balance once again.

And then you're gone, your footsteps echoing down Shiz' hall, leaving Mingyu with the answer.

Mingyu loathed you in theory, but in practice? Well.

He's so caught up in trying to unpack his realization that he nearly misses the quiet ping of his phone in his pocket.

#mingyu x reader #mingyu imagines #mingyu smau #mingyu drabble #kim mingyu x reader #svt x reader #seventeen x reader #svt imagines #seventeen imagines #svt smau #seventeen smau #୨ৎ penned by ylangelegy #୨ৎ muse .ᐟ svt #[ me whenever i consume new media: How can i make this about me!!!!! ]#[ fiyero!mingyu when i catch you fiyero!mingyu. this will have to do for now ]

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planetkiimchi · 5 months ago

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sixth time's the charm | w.jh

no. 1 of my 100 followers event (requested)

featuring: coworker!jun x gn!reader

word count: 8832 words

summary — your coworker jun is naturally friendly and a little chaotic, but he also mistakenly thinks you like his crush. this love rivalry persists despite the two of you being friends, at least until he realises that the one he likes is you.

author’s note: thank you to @fairyhaos for beta-ing this, your comments are so appreciated. especially knowing now that you have such high standards for fics, i’m so honoured to receive any sort of compliment from you <3 thank you ara for the request and i hope you enjoy!

Your first day of work was in January, at the tail end of winter. People were trading their thick winter coats for thinner wool sweaters and cotton hoodies, slowly switching back to sneakers instead of the chunky boots they donned in the winter.

The temperature was still cold in the mornings, especially when people were heading to work. The streets were filled with people walking briskly, as staying idle for too long would let the chill seep into one’s bones.

You were no different, a long coat wrapped tightly around your work attire, the most formal you could get. You cracked your knuckles nervously as you came to a hesitant stop in front of an office building, indistinguishable from the surrounding buildings save for the large “JH Corporations” displayed across the front.

Inhaling deeply, you stepped inside.

You were greeted by the warm air of the heated building, and you took in your surroundings as subtly as you could, taking small steps towards the reception desk while your gaze wandered about.

Everyone there seemed to be in a hurry, impatiently bustling past with briefcases, holding onto their laptop cases and thick folders. The constant clicking sound of high heels against the floor seemed to match your heart rate, going tap-tap-tap-tap-tap.

You made your way over to the reception desk.

“Good morning!” A cheery voice broke your train of thought, interrupting your anxiously racing thoughts and preventing you from spiralling.

Turning around to face the owner of the voice, you came face to face with a familiar face.

“Wen Junhui?”

The man in question grinned back at you. “Hi!”

So it was him. Junhui—”Call me Jun,” he’d said—had been there at your job interview, which had been done in a group, so both of you were probably starting at a similar level. Logically speaking, that day should also be his first day at work. However, unlike you, he looked a lot more at ease in this large building.

“Excuse me?” The receptionist tried to get your attention, and you blinked quickly before nodding.

“Yes, hi.”

You gave her your name and waited as she searched for your employee pass, before handing it to you, along with directions on how to get to your level.

You thanked her and turned to leave.

“I’m going to level three too, would you like me to show you there?”

Your heart, which had been beating painfully fast ever since you stepped foot into the building, slowed to a reasonable pace as you forced yourself to take a deep breath. Then, turning to face Jun, you smiled slightly.

“That would be great.”

Jun didn’t shut up the entire way to your desk. He looked tidy and well-kept, brown hair parted slightly off-centre, a tie around his neck. His smart black shoes clicked against the floor as he walked, and you noticed his fingernails were trimmed when he reached out to press the lift button.

“Y/n, right?” You nodded absently as Jun talked about this job, how his boss was rather friendly and how excited he was to be able to work in this team setting. Everyone was welcoming so far, and no one had belittled him as of yet.

During the elevator ride, you didn’t manage to get a single word in. Jun just kept on talking, somehow finding ways to fill the silence without you having to say a single thing. When he finally took a breath, you seized the opportunity to ask, “When did you start?”

“Last week! They asked me to come at the beginning of the new year, but I requested to start a week earlier instead, just after the winter solstice, so I could get acquainted a little earlier.”

Oh. That made sense. You briefly wondered why you hadn’t thought to do that yourself, stepping out of the elevator as the door opened onto the third floor.

You followed Jun through what felt like a winding maze of desks, all grey with some attempts at personalisation in the form of white mugs with “I ❤️ DAD” and “This is my fifth cup of coffee” printed across them, and cushions propped up on chairs for comfort.

“... And here’s your desk! Mine’s right across, so you can come over and ask me for help at any time. Just wave, and I’ll come over!” Jun smiled at you expectantly.

“Thanks?” you replied hesitantly.

“No problem!”

Smiling cheerily at you, Jun walked over and took a seat at his desk.

Breathe. You inhaled deeply, taking in your surroundings once more. This time, it felt a lot less scary. Each team had a semi-secluded area, with partitions sectioning off different teams, and your section was a little quiet but very conducive for working in.

The other people in the office had looked up briefly when you walked in, disrupted by Jun’s voice, waving politely at you before looking back down at their computers.

It didn’t seem like much, but you weren’t quite sure what you had been expecting in the first place. Setting your things down, you went over to find your team manager so you could officially start working.

—

Time passed too quickly. Soon enough, the project that the team had just undertaken was already almost half completed, and your working hours grew longer as the daylight stretched longer as well.

The sun set just after six, and you often got off work before then, so you would be home in time for dinner. Upon graduating from university, one of the first things you’d done was rent a house on the outskirts of the central business district.

It wasn’t the cheapest option, but luck was on your side, and the marketing job you had secured was enough to pay your rent.

Life wasn’t particularly luxurious; your flat was small and your meals were simple, but it was comfortable enough. On top of that, your transport fees were lower, since the office was located very close to where you lived.

That day, you were staying in the office a bit longer, staring blankly at the design drawn up on your computer and trying to figure out exactly what was off about it.

There was something about the design that didn’t work, and you intuitively knew that it had to do with the layout and the contrast in the colours of the background and the elements, but you couldn’t put your finger on what it was.

As the graphic designer on the marketing team, your workload was manageable, so this was your first time staying in the office past your stipulated working hours.

You rolled your neck around, hearing it crack, and fought the urge to rub your eyes. You turned the computer off and got up from your seat to take a bathroom break.

When you returned, there was a box of fried rice next to your keyboard.

Picking the box up, you looked around the section to see who had gotten the food. There were three people in the team still present; besides you and Jun, Yueyue was also working overtime that evening.

Yueyue had a reusable lunchbox by her side, and she took a mouthful of noodles into her mouth every once in a while, in between typing furiously on her keyboard.

Her clicks and the sound of her slurping the noodles were the only things disrupting the silence.

Jun was sitting directly opposite you, and he too had an open lunchbox beside him, along with a spoon, and he shovelled rice into his mouth every ten seconds or so. It was a bit strange that both of them had brought food from home, and yet there was takeout on your desk. It was especially strange because you knew you hadn’t ordered it.

As if sensing your confusion—or perhaps due to the fact that you had been standing in front of him for a good few minutes—Jun looked up.

He raised an eyebrow at you. “Are you planning to sit down soon? You’re kind of putting me off by just standing there.”

Oh. Embarrassed, you hurriedly sat down, but not before leaning over and asking, “Do you know who bought this?”, pointing at your own food.

“I did.” He looked back at his screen for a few moments, typed something out quickly, then moved his chair over so his view of you was no longer blocked by the screen.

“Minghao usually buys us food when we work overtime, but his mother’s health isn’t the best, so he took leave today to visit her in the hospital. Yueyue brings her own food, and I’ve started that habit too, but I noticed you hadn’t eaten so I got you something. I hope you don’t mind?”

You shook your head quickly. “No, I don’t. Thanks. I’ll pay you back, how much was it?”

Jun reached over to push your phone away. “It’s on me. Minghao even sent me money earlier on to make sure everyone in the team was fed, look.”

He showed you his screen, as if he felt the need to prove it to you, and you scanned Minghao’s texts.

Minghao (Team Manager): Make sure everyone eats well. Minghao (Team Manager): Tell them to go home before 7, it’s dark and cold outside, don’t want anyone falling sick. Minghao (Team Manager): Oh, also, tell Y/n to send me the draft of the advertisement by tonight. Minghao (Team Manager): Thanks.

“Say thank you to Minghao for me.”

Jun shrugged and put his phone away, “Already did.”

As you ate the fried rice, wrist cramping up from drawing the animations for the advertisement on your tablet, your heart felt extremely warm.

—

Becoming more comfortable with the members in your team also translated to becoming careless, it seemed.

One fine spring day, you awoke at eight-thirty to the sound of your ringtone blaring obnoxiously loudly in your ear.

"Please pick up, please pick up–"

"Hello?" you mumbled, voice a little raspy.

"Y/n! We have a meeting in an hour, where are you?"

Shit. You'd completely forgotten to set your alarm for that morning, having turned it off the day before for the Qingming Festival. You hadn't wanted it to ring while you were visiting the cemetery, which coincided with the time you normally woke up at.

To top it all off, after the long day, you'd had to take a long ride back to your flat from your hometown, which was a long way from Beijing.

You must have been so tired that night that you had forgotten to set your alarm.

"I'm still at home, is Minghao there?"

"Yes, and he's getting ready for the meeting already. He looks a bit pissed, you might want to hurry."

"Shit, yeah, okay. If he starts the meeting early, help me stall or come up with an excuse," you said.

Jun muttered something in acknowledgement.

"I'll hang up first, I've got to get ready and hopefully I'll reach on time."

"Hurry!" was the last word you heard Jun say before you hung up the call.

By some miracle, you ended up reaching the office 5 minutes before the meeting, wisps of hair falling into your eyes. You irritatedly pushed them away, taking the time to catch your breath as you turned your laptop on and tried to pull up your documents.

"Come into the meeting room now," Minghao ordered, and the team filed into the meeting room and took their respective seats.

You glared at the loading screen on your laptop, willing it to work more quickly. As Minghao said something about following the timeline and how the team was lagging behind and the client was beginning to get impatient, you did your best to listen and pull up the designs you'd done over the past couple of weeks.

However, luck was not on your side, because Minghao called upon you to present what you had done the moment he finished speaking.

You stood up hesitantly, eyes scanning your screen in a hurry, breathing still a little uneven. “Well…”

Jun let out a soft snort. You stole a glance at him, just in time to see him rolling his eyes before angling his laptop screen towards you.

“This is our advertisement video.”

Minghao took your cue to start playing the video, and you watched as your hard work came to life before your eyes. You’d watched it so many times, rewinding the animations over and over again until it was perfect, that it was no longer shocking to you how smooth the transitions were.

But seeing the video play in its entirety, not stopping every two seconds for you to fix something, you realised that you’d actually done well.

As the video came to an end, you launched into your spiel behind the technical aspect of the design elements, and Jun nodded attentively from his seat. Satisfied with your presentation, Minghao went on to the next person.

“Junhui, since you’re already prepared, tell us about the rest of the campaign and how you plan to manage the small budget we’re working with for this project.”

When Jun finished, Minghao raised an eyebrow, impressed. “Not bad, the two of you are a real match. Always good at thinking on your feet,” he said softly, just loud enough for the two of you to hear.

“A good match?” Jun fought to keep his volume down.

“I’m just saying, you’ve never called me when I was late.”

“Hao, when have you ever arrived any later than 8.30am?”

“It’s just a comparison.”

“I-” Jun threw his hands up in the air, exasperated. “We’ll talk about this later.”

Minghao shrugged and pointed at Jing Xuan, motioning for her to go next. You squinted at your team manager, then back at Jun, trying to figure out what their exchange could possibly have meant.

Yueyue went last, looking for you for help when she couldn’t recall the right word in Mandarin, and a couple of times you had to correct her pronunciation softly. She took it all in her stride, successfully completing her presentation of the segment she was in charge of.

Minghao ended the meeting with a short briefing on the development of the project and the client’s requirements, and gave updated instructions to each individual on the team.

Once he had finished speaking, the meeting was adjourned. Without hesitation, Jun grabbed Minghao’s hand and all but dragged him out of the meeting room, muttering something that sounded like “We seriously need to talk” as he strode away.

Curious, you did your best to subtly close your laptop and place it on your desk, before walking to the coffee lounge in what you hoped was an innocuous manner and casually inching closer towards the duo.

They were speaking in hushed tones, Jun’s brows furrowed and his tone of voice anxious, while Minghao was as relaxed as ever. In times like that, it was difficult to believe that Jun was a year older than Minghao.

You were a couple of years younger than Minghao, but you had changed jobs a few times, just like Jun, so Minghao was more senior than both of you.

However, Jun never really treated Minghao like a senior, although you could tell Minghao definitely treated Jun like a junior.

“What do you mean we’re a good match?” Jun hissed.

“I mean what I said,” Minghao replied, sipping his coffee.

“They like the girl I like, how could we be a good match?”

Too stunned to process Minghao’s reply, your mind blanked out as you heard Jun’s whispered words. In fact, you were lucky the cup in your hand didn’t shatter to the ground with how shocked you were feeling.

He liked Yueyue?

Yueyue’s English name was Luna, and she had joined the team at the same time that spring began. With her limited Mandarin, she struggled to communicate with the others, mostly electing to keep to herself and using Google Translate to send emails.

Having come from Singapore, your English was as good as Yueyue’s, and you were able to communicate effectively in Mandarin after your four years at university.

As such, for the time being, you basically acted as Yueyue’s translator, often helping her with her conversational Mandarin. Yueyue was a fast learner, and though sometimes she struggled with active recall, she was able to understand most conversations now without having to look the words up.

You hadn’t realised Jun liked her, but thinking back on it, you did remember Jun often looking at her while working, casting her glances when he thought no one else was looking. You recalled the way Jun hesitated before speaking to her, as if he had to gather his courage before speaking to her.

At the time, you’d simply thought it was because Jun’s English was extremely subpar, and the same could be said of Yueyue’s Mandarin, but now you knew it was more than that.

Even that time that Jun bought you dinner, you were fairly certain that he had gotten it for Yueyue, because it had come with a post-it note that was coming off the side, saying, “Enjoy your meal :)”. Jun must have been unsuccessful in removing it after he realised that Yueyue had brought her own food.

The puzzle pieces were all clicking in place, and your mouth invariably formed an ‘O’ shape as it all started to make sense.

Minghao elbowed Jun, jerking his head slightly in your direction. “Y/n’s staring.”

“Can you stop it, please, I—” Jun’s voice cut off as he turned to look at you. You were still deep in thought, and your unfocused gaze just happened to be facing Jun’s direction. “Oh.”

Minghao nodded. “Go on.” Then, as an afterthought, he added, “And remember what I said.”

Jun glared at him before standing up straight, leaving Minghao leaning against the counter with his mug of forgotten coffee, walking towards you.

He called your name, and you jerked your hand in surprise, spilling coffee on a stunned Jun.

He looked down at his white shirt in shock, frozen to the spot, and you covered your hand with your mouth. You hurriedly set the mug down, grabbing a bunch of tissue paper and pressing it against his shirt to dry it.

“I’m so sorry, you shocked me, I didn’t mean to stain your shirt. You can pass it to me, I’ll wash it, I’m really sorry—”

Jun called your name again, effectively stopping the flow of words that would have otherwise continued to stream from your mouth.

“Stop, it’s fine. It’s just a shirt, I can wash it myself.”

You opened your mouth in protest, and Jun’s eyebrow lifted ever so slightly. “Didn’t know this shirt mattered so much to you. If you want to wash it so badly, I’ll pass it to you after I’ve changed out of it.”

You could only stare in shock at his retreating back as he turned and left, mouth agape. What had Minghao said to him? It felt like the tectonic plates of your dynamics had shifted, but you wouldn’t quite be able to understand it until much, much later.

The first time.

There was a work party coming up, and you originally intended to ask Yueyue to go with you, if not as your date then as your friend.

Lo and behold, just as you opened your mouth to say “Yue”, Jun beat you to it.

“Y/n, would you do me a favour and be my work spouse for a night?” You furrowed your brows at his strange wording, glancing at Yueyue. The latter looked up, caught your eye, and shrugged helplessly.

“No,” you replied flatly. “Yueyue—”

“Pretty please?” Jun latched onto your wrist, tugging onto it like a little child would.

“No!” You pulled your hand away, shaking it in irritation. “Yueyue, will you please—” Before you could finish your sentence, Jun slapped his hand over your mouth, his other hand clutching your wrist again, preventing you from moving away or speaking.

When you finally struggled out of his grasp, you glared at him, beckoning him closer. As he leaned in, you stood on your tiptoes and hissed into his ear, “What are you doing?”

“I don’t want you to go to the party with Yueyue,” he said simply.

“Who I go with is none of your business.”

“Well, both you and Yueyue are my coworkers, so it kind of is.” Then, before you could reply, he said loudly, “Anyway, we’re going together and that’s the end of it. If any of you try to steal my plus-one, you’ll never hear the end of it from me.”

You whipped your head around to see Yueyue’s reaction, and saw her sinking into her chair, the smile on her face dissipating faster than you could blink. Jing Xuan hid her smile behind her hand, calming herself before removing her hand and continuing to work. Minghao had no visible reaction, but his deliberate ignorance was enough.

You were well and truly alone in this struggle with Jun. You took one glance at your gleeful colleague, sighing in defeat.

—

By the time the work party rolled around, it was already summer. You decided to pack your outfit, leaving it hanging by your desk throughout the workday. Sometime early in the afternoon, Jun got up from his seat, collected the suit he’d hung next to the coffee machine, and glanced at Yueyue.

She was too absorbed in her work to notice. Jun scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, and you subtly cleared your throat. “Yueyue,” you called softly.

She finally looked up, raising both her eyebrows at you. “Yes?”

You looked pointedly at Jun and jerked your head slightly in his direction. “He’s trying to talk to you.”

“Oh,” she replied, sounding surprised.

Jun smiled hesitantly at Yueyue, “Do you want to go get changed? Then we can take a taxi to the hotel together.” As he spoke, he moved his hands, pointing first at himself, then at Yueyue. His limbs felt longer than they usually seemed, and he looked like he wasn’t quite sure what to do with them.

Before Yueyue could reply, you cleared your throat again, causing both of them to turn towards you.

“Are you not inviting me to hitch a ride?”

Jun’s eyebrows furrowed in annoyance. Then, he and Yueyue spoke at the same time:

“No.”

“Yes.”

The two glanced at each other, and turned back to you.

“Yes.”

“No.”

Jun caved first, hissing in irritation, saying, “Whatever. As long as Yueyue’s fine with it.”

The person in question smiled warmly at you, and nodded in reassurance. “Sure, you can come with us.”

As Yueyue stood up, you locked gazes with Jun, smiling triumphantly at him.

—

The ride there was tense. Not entirely because you’d figuratively shoved your way into the car, although you suspected that might be a big part of the reason. No, for some reason unbeknownst to you, the typically outspoken Jun had turned silent, nervously glancing at Yueyue from time to time.

Seated in the passenger seat, you couldn’t help but steal a glance at the two behind you from time to time, and yet nothing changed throughout the entire ride.

Jun kept looking down at his hands, playing with his fingers, and Yueyue stared out the window mindlessly.

You debated trying to strike up a conversation, but just as you opened your mouth to speak, the taxi came to a halt. Looking out the window, you noticed that the hotel that had been booked for this party was much, much fancier than you had imagined.

The imposing building stood apart from the plain buildings around it, the stairs leading up to the entrance all lit up. The evening had just begun, and the sun was beginning to set, and the lights drew attention to the hotel.

Inwardly, you sighed in relief that you had chosen one of the more elegant items of clothing in your wardrobe to wear that night, because you were sure that being underdressed would have ruined your whole night.

Too caught up in admiring the grandness of the hotel, you didn’t make a move to step out of the car until Jun opened the door for you, and you stepped out. It seemed only natural to take his hand, although the moment your hand was in Jun’s, you realised that it might be overstepping slightly.

Jun’s hand was warm, enveloping your smaller hand in it completely. Yueyue came to stand behind you, amazed by the scale of the event.

“Let’s go in,” Jun suggested, and you nodded dumbly, following him inside.

Seeing Minghao eased everyone’s nerves a little, and soon there was a small congregation of five near the entrance, all keeping a close watch on the rest of your colleagues.

Since you often came to work in a sectioned-off area, and only worked closely with your teammates, you didn’t recognise any of your other colleagues. However, you couldn’t say the same for Jun.

As an elaborately-dressed young man walked past you, Jun seemed to recognise him, waving hello. Minghao could see that Jun was itching to socialise, and urged the rest of you to find people to talk to as well, leaving with a reassuring smile and a pat on your back.

You stuck to Yueyue like glue, the two of you acting like outsiders in this unfamiliar environment that was far out of your comfort zone, until someone Yueyue knew walked by and struck up a conversation with her. Not wishing to be the third wheel, you watched them walk off, standing awkwardly by the side and wishing the time would pass faster.

Fortunately for you, a kind soul noticed you standing on your own and came over, casually asking for your name and which team you were in. The man, Kun, had a warm face and a comforting voice, easily calming you down.

Halfway through a rather engaging conversation about stocks, you felt the need to visit the restroom, and looked around for someone to help you hold your things.

You would have gone to one of your teammates, but Yueyue and Minghao were having a heated discussion with a group of unfamiliar people, and Jing Xuan was nowhere to be found. Of course, there was Jun, but he flitted from group to group without giving you a chance to catch up to him.

You excused yourself to go to the bathroom, clutching your purse. Before you could leave, Kun reached out and offered to help you hold your things, and you thanked him with an embarrassed smile.

When you came out of the bathroom, you were greeted by an unhappy Jun.

He was standing in the corridor in front of the bathroom, not even on his phone, simply holding your purse and staring at the doorway, waiting for you to emerge.

You had been expecting to see Kun waiting there, prepared to thank him once more. Instead, the person awaiting you was Jun, and the lack of a smile on his face was disconcerting to say the least.

You couldn’t remember a time you hadn’t seen Jun smile. He had a pleasant disposition and a happy-go-lucky attitude, so seeing him with a poker face was a rare sight.

You reached to take your purse from him without a word, but his grasp on it only tightened as your fingers brushed against his.

“Why didn’t you come find me to help you hold your things?” he asked, volume soft but tone threatening.

You shrugged. “Kun offered to help me before I could go to find you.”

“We’re here together,” Jun insisted. “You’re acting like you hate me.”

You raised your eyebrows, slowly appraising him. “Oh, really? Funny, that’s exactly the same sentiment I received earlier, when you outright refused to let me take the same fucking taxi as you. Is being in my presence such a horrifying thought that you would refuse to take the same car as me after asking me to be your plus-one, deliberately preventing me from getting the date I wanted?”

Stunned, Jun’s grip on your purse loosened, and you shouldered your purse and turned to leave. He grabbed your wrist, and you whipped your head around to glare at him, causing him to immediately let go.

“I’m sorry.”

You stood there, not speaking, but the fact that you weren’t leaving was enough for Jun to continue, “I didn’t mean to upset you. Yes, I wanted to go with Yueyue alone, and yes, I ruined your chance to ask her, and yes, it’s hypocritical of me to expect you to act nicely towards me when I’ve been nothing but an asshole this evening.”

“You left the team first, so anxious to talk to that friend of yours that you didn’t even spare the rest of us a second glance,” you accused.

Jun shrugged his shoulders helplessly. “I’m sorry.”

You nodded curtly in acknowledgement, ready to leave, but Jun called out your name before you could take a single step.

“You can join me for the rest of the evening if you want. Since we’re supposed to be together for the night.”

You looked at him slowly, taking in his pose, rocking on his feet, thumbs stashed into his pockets. He looked distinctly uncomfortable, and some sadistic part of you felt glad you were making him feel that way.

After a long moment of deliberation, you nodded. “Sure.”

The second time.

Jun introduced you as his work spouse for the rest of the night. The first few times, you raised your eyebrows in shock, meeting his mischievous gaze, and his disarming grin told you to leave it be.

So you did, not even batting an eyelash when he proudly showed you off for the rest of the night, your heated conversation from earlier almost forgotten.

You supposed that was one of his charm points, that he didn’t hold grudges. Jun had a forgiving personality, and it made interacting with him comfortable and easy.

As the night passed, your eyelids started drooping, and it became increasingly difficult to pay attention to the conversation topic at hand. Bidding goodbye to a few of your colleagues, you took some time to stand by the side, hiding your yawn behind your hand.

“Tired?” Jun asked, accompanied by a soft laugh.

You nodded. “I think I’ll head home soon.”

“I’ll send you home.”

You cocked your head at him, then shook your head. “There’s no need, you should stay if you want to.”

At that, Jun scoffed, then shook his head and rolled his eyes. “I’d rather not. Besides, it’s not like I would understand what they’re saying without you to translate; their use of technical jargon is way out of my vocabulary range. This entire night, I’ve been piecing together the meaning of their words from your replies.”

You laughed to yourself. “Really?”

Jun nodded. “I’m serious. Anyway, it’s dark outside; you shouldn’t go home alone.”

The corners of your lips lifted, “Didn’t know Wen Junhui was such a gentleman.”

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”

You elected to ignore that sentence, turning on your heel to leave, and Jun chased after you, matching your long strides. Outside, you hailed a car, and Jun rushed to open the door for you.

You hesitated just a second before stepping into the car. Earlier that evening, you’d assumed that Jun had opened the door for you out of formality, because Yueyue was present and he was getting into character for having to spend a night with you.

However, with a night so bleak and the dim glow of the streetlights barely lighting up the roads, there was no one to see his actions then, and everything he was doing was just between the two of you.

Perhaps he really was a gentleman, and it was out of habit that he opened the door for you. You wouldn’t know.

Because Jun was right. There was a lot you didn’t know about him.

The third time.

That incident remained at the back of your mind as concerns about the project wrapping up took priority, especially when finishing the tail-end of the promotions. You were often busy working, and had little time to spare to think about other things.

By then it was summer, and it often rained in the afternoons. Sometimes it only drizzled lightly, and sometimes the thunderstorms were so loud that you could feel your eardrums vibrating.

That day it started out drizzling lightly in the morning. At first, you thought nothing of it, expecting it to stop raining by evening. However, an hour or so before you got off work, it was still pouring outside. The rain didn’t seem like it will stop soon, and you sighed in resignation. You'd foolishly hoped that the rain would have stopped after pouring the whole afternoon, so you'd be able to get home without getting soaked.

However, you were almost about to leave, and yet the rain was still pouring ceaselessly down. You rummaged through your bag for an umbrella.

Even though your hands were occupied, something at the back of your mind told you that you'd forgotten to put the umbrella in your bag this morning. Your search proved futile, and you recalled seeing the umbrella resting on the shoe rack that morning, but you had no memory of putting it into your bag.

You ran through the options in your mind. You could make a dash for it—the building wasn’t too far away from the bus stop—but you didn’t particularly feel like taking the bus home while soaking wet. The other option was waiting it out, but you hadn’t had dinner yet and you were absolutely famished.

You inhaled through gritted teeth, mentally preparing yourself to run through the rain, when a voice cut through your thoughts.

"Are you walking to the bus stop?"

You locked eyes with Jun, who'd just asked the question, and nodded.

"I'm walking there too, shall we go together? We could share an umbrella," he said.

Oh. You felt a ripple of warmth spreading through your body. He'd noticed. You swallowed and nodded. "That would be great. Thanks."

To be honest, you weren’t sure what to think of the gesture. Jun was nicer to you lately, and whatever odd tension between the two of you that had laced your interactions had died down too. You still talked to Yueyue, but more for work than any other reason. Jun, too, seemed to be taking it easy, reducing his attempts at chasing her.

Jun stood up, closing his laptop, and you kept your things as well. He came over to you, umbrella in hand, which caused Minghao to look up from his seat.

“Leaving so early?” This sentence was directed at Jun.

“Yeah. Gotta send my work spouse home, they forgot to bring an umbrella.”

You rolled your eyes at the term, but Minghao didn’t even flinch. “Okay, don’t get too wet.”

Tilting his head, Jun gestured for you to follow him out.

It was a silent walk to the bus stop, both of you all too aware of your proximity to each other, trying not to step too far out of the umbrella for fear of getting soaked. The sky was dark, covered by clouds, and the floor was slippery, so you had to take great care not to slip.

Jun maintained a small gap between the two of you, tilting the umbrella slightly to your side, but when you finally reached the bus stop, both of you were dry.

“Thanks.”

Jun looked up from the umbrella, smirking when he saw the grudging expression on your face. “No problem.”

The fourth time.

When Minghao said you would be going on a trip together as a team, you weren’t expecting that to entail camping in the middle of the woods—”Nature reserve, Y/n, I’ve lost track of how many times I’ve said that already”—and definitely not when you realised you’d have to put up your tents by yourselves.

Not that you were incapable of putting up a tent, but you weren’t keen on the idea of sleeping without a mattress. With your terrible posture and the way you kicked in the night, you could already foresee the backache that would result from this wonderful idea.

At least it was summertime, so you wouldn’t have to worry so much about freezing to death. Minghao and Jun were sharing a tent, of course, because there had never been much to debate about that. Yueyue and Jingxuan were sharing the other 2-person tent, which meant you were left with the smallest tent to yourself. Fortunately, you didn’t mind.

Putting up the tents was a two-person job, and you were embarrassed to admit that you needed help doing it. Obviously, stubborn as you were, you’d tried to set it up by yourself, but trying to place the groundsheet on the ground with only two hands was difficult. You could only hold two corners at a time, and the material of the groundsheet made it such that it kept creasing in ways you didn’t expect, so after a few minutes of trying, you eventually gave up.

You helped Yueyue and Jingxuan fit the tent poles through the loops of the tent, the three of you cheering when the tent started to take shape. Once the tent and flysheet were secured, you asked them to help you set up your tent, only to realise Minghao was the only one setting up his and Jun’s tent. Jun was standing behind you, watching the three of you awkwardly, grinning crookedly at Yueyue when she turned to face him.

Rolling your eyes, you went over to help Minghao.

Minghao raised his eyebrows when you came over, starting to speak before your hands even touched the pegs.

“I’m extremely particular about these sorts of things, by the way. That’s why Jun’s not helping me. So if you do something that I don’t like, there’s a high chance I’ll just undo it and redo it myself.”

You shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

“Also, please put the pegs in well, because I’d prefer to not have to wake up in the middle of the night to find my entire tent blown away.”

You nodded. “Sure.”

After a moment of silence, you tugged at the loops at the bottom of the tent, wiggling the tent pegs deeper into the ground. You packed the soil into the holes you’d made, shaking the pegs to check that they were secure, and stood up with a triumphant smile.

Minghao made his rounds, adjusting the flysheet. Hands on his hips, he walked one round around the tent, inspecting every small bit, using his shoes to check that the pegs were secure. Satisfied, he looked to you with grudging approval.

“Not bad.”

You smiled to yourself, knowing that in Minghao’s dictionary, that was a high-level compliment. Turning back to your own tent, you noticed that Jun and Yueyue were almost done setting it up.

You would have gone over to help, but you didn’t want to interrupt. You turned back to Minghao, who was already climbing into his tent and unpacking his luggage.

“Need help?” you asked Yueyue, deliberately choosing to use English because you knew Jun wouldn’t understand.

She shook her head. “We’re good, I think.”

You glanced at Jun, who was biting his lip in concentration as he slotted the bendy tent pole ends into each other until the tent began to take shape.

“Jun? I can take over from here, you should go ahead and unpack.”

Jun’s head whipped up, and he glared at you for a moment before realising Yueyue was watching him. “I don’t have much to unpack,” he replied simply.

“You sure? I saw how big your luggage is.”

“It’s fine, I can help Yueyue for a little longer.”

“Actually…” The two of you turned your attention to Yueyue, who continued, “I think I need to unpack. I’ll leave the two of you to it?”

You smiled warmly at her. “Go ahead.”

“Yue…” Jun’s voice trailed off as she walked away, glaring at you fiercely.

You pretended not to notice as you focused only on getting your tent up, and once it was set up, you finally paid attention to the way Jun was staring at you. He stood on his tiptoes to tie the knot that secured the tent poles to the flysheet, then stalked over to you.

“Y/n, what the fuck—” The moment the curse word left his lips, Jun looked almost apologetic. He pressed his lips together, silent for a moment, before deciding to continue. “Why would you purposely ask her to leave? We were doing fine, we’re literally helping you set up your tent, I don’t get it.”

“Don’t get what? I just reminded her that she still had to unpack.”

“It won’t take that long, don’t play dumb. It’s still bright, and we both know Minghao always gives enough time for everything. It wouldn’t kill her to start unpacking later.”

You shrugged, your gaze slanting towards the other tent. “Tell her that yourself, it’s not like I told her to leave.”

“Cut the crap, Y/n. Why are you acting like this? I thought we were friends.”

“Why am I sabotaging your attempts to hit on her, you mean? I'm not trying to. I’d just prefer it if you didn’t do it while setting up my tent.”

“I-” Just then, Minghao tapped both of your shoulders, jerking his head towards the centre of all the tents. He looked pointedly at Jun for a few moments, then left without saying anything.

“I’m going to set up a fire,” Jun said. “We’ll talk about this later.”

“Maybe,” you muttered unhappily under your breath.

—

After dinner, which was cooked over the fire—definitely an experience—the five of you sat by the fire, admiring the orange-red sunset. As the sun disappeared on the horizon, the temperature grew colder, and everyone subconsciously shifted their chairs closer to the crackling fire, jackets wrapped tightly around themselves as they extended their fingers towards the glowing flame.

When all the conversation topics had been exhausted, so was Jingxuan, as evidenced by her sudden yawn. Claiming that it was time for her to turn in, she got up. Not wanting to leave her alone, Yueyue took her leave as well. That left you, Minghao and Jun by the fire, moving your chairs so each had a warm spot.

“Y/n?” You glanced at Jun, bracing yourself for the argument you felt was sure to follow. You were naturally argumentative, there was no denying it, and though Jun wasn’t one to start an argument, he always wanted to win them.

You jerked your head in acknowledgement, waiting for him to continue.

“Are we friends?”

You frowned. That wasn’t what you’d been expecting at all. “Yes?” you replied tentatively, unsure where this was heading.

“Do you like Yueyue?”

You almost laughed. “No.” You didn’t and would never like her that way, probably. She was nice enough, but not exactly your type. You weren’t sure where Jun had got that notion from, but he seemed to be clinging on to that thought since you first joined the company all of 8 months before.

“Then what’s your deal? It feels like you’re doing this on purpose, trying to keep me away from her. If you like her, and she likes you back, fine. I’ll stop pursuing her. But you don’t even like her, so I don’t understand why you’re acting like this.”

You pursed your lips together, trying to identify the feelings messing up your head, like water after a dirty paintbrush was dipped into it.

Jun looked at you earnestly, eyes wide as he awaited your reply. After a moment of silence, you shrugged helplessly. “I can’t say what it is. But you’re right, I’m being unreasonable. So, how about this: I’ll leave the two of you be if you don’t flirt right in front of my face, deal?”

Jun stuck out his hand, adding, “You’re still my work spouse, right?”

Taking his hand, you nodded. “Sure.”

Just then, an ear-piercing shriek sounded in the otherwise quiet camping place, and the three of you gathered around the fire stood up simultaneously. Minghao was the fastest to get to Jingxuan and Yueyue’s tent, and the two of them ran out of the tent, Jingxuan’s face white with fear.

“There was a rat!” she cried out. “I swear it bit my fucking toe.”

Upon hearing this, Jun looked rather faint. You moved to help Jingxuan get her shoes, bringing her to the campfire to take a seat first. Yueyue helped Jun to sit down, and you left the three of them to get jackets for Yueyue and Jingxuan.

Meanwhile, Minghao took his phone and turned the flashlight on, inspecting the tent and the area around it.

He came back a couple of minutes later, having ascertained that the rat was gone, but by then everyone had grown comfortable and too tired to move. Jingxuan and Jun were fast asleep, heads propped up on their fists, and you watched Yueyue carefully.

Her hands were shoved into the depths of her pockets, her lips forming a pout absentmindedly, hair tucked behind her ears.

Yueyue tapped Jun’s shoulder to rouse him, and the two of you guided your half-asleep colleagues into their tents before everyone finally fell asleep.

The fifth time.

By then it was autumn, and September was drawing to a close. It was an ordinary work day, a couple of hours before lunch, and Jun suddenly stood up, rummaged through his bag, before procuring a card from his wallet and stalking over to Minghao’s desk.

“You busy?” Minghao nodded without looking up. Jun placed the card on his desk, saying, “I’m using this.” Minghao barely spared the card a second glance before saving his progress and getting up from his seat, gesturing for Jun to follow.

The two of them entered the meeting room, your gaze following them curiously. You met Jingxuan’s eyes, both of you just as confused as each other.

You stood up, walking over to Minghao’s desk, examining the card left behind on the desk. It said, in Minghao’s neat handwriting, “15 minutes of my time. Use whenever.”

You furrowed your brows, placing the card carefully back to where it had been before, heading back to your seat.

Jun and Minghao exited the room not long after, Jun looking conflicted. You followed him with your eyes as subtly as you could, watching as Minghao sat in his seat, looking at the card on the table and furrowing his brows. Looking up, he met your gaze, tilting his head.

Shit. Had you not put the card back properly? How did Minghao know? But to your surprise, your team manager didn’t speak, smirking before returning the card to Jun.

“Team drinks later after work,” he announced, not as a question. The other members of the team looked up briefly, nodded, then returned to their work. You continued to watch Jun sit at his desk, bury his head in his hands, then mess up his hair in frustration.

Then, as if nothing had happened, he opened his laptop and began to work.

—

That evening, the five of you sat at the front of the bar, talking between drinks. After Jingxuan’s story about her landlord drastically inflating the rent when he found out that Jingxuan and her roommate were splitting the costs, you recalled an incident you had just had.

A couple of weeks ago, you’d seen a stray cat on the streets, and decided to take it in. You’d since taken it to the vet for a proper check-up, and had made an appointment for it to get spayed. The only issue was that your landlord didn’t allow tenants to keep pets, and you weren’t sure you could keep it a secret when she came over to check.

“Come stay with me,” Jun said. His tone was teasing, but when you looked at him, his gaze seemed earnest, burning into you with his sincerity. The way he said it, it wasn’t really a question.

“I mean it. If you need a place to stay, come stay with me.”

Normally you would tease him for how serious he was being, but something about the fraught silence and the surrounding atmosphere stopped you from making fun of him. Instead, you watched him carefully, never breaking eye contact, and nodded slowly.

“Okay.”

“Lighten up, my work spouse. You’re acting like we haven’t known each other for a year already,” he said, already back to his old self. You only nodded in reply.

Bonus: the time where he leaves out the “work”.

When you first joined the company, little did you expect that three years down the road, you’d end up waking up next to the man you’d met at your interview, the one with brown hair and dark eyes and a sharp smile.

It had started out with him liking your friend, with tensions here and there due to both of your stubborn tendencies. Your personalities clashed often, resulting in disagreements that turned everyone’s moods sour.

However, you were still mature adults, and after a period of working together, you learned to be more accommodating of his differing opinions and habits and vice versa. Through the shared bonding over working overtime and walking home in the rain, you grew from mere colleagues into friends, growing close enough to talk about more than just the latest project you were working on.

Of course, growing from friends into lovers was slightly more complicated, and you had Minghao to thank for helping you along.

You never realised, but Minghao was the first to notice that you were starting to like Jun. If it weren’t for Minghao subtly helping Jun to grow closer to you, the rivalry may have extended for a far longer period of time than just a few months. Especially with the misguided notion that you liked his crush, Jun would not have been as willing to be your friend without Minghao’s constant nudging.

Almost a year after you had met, before getting drinks together and Jun’s fateful statement that led to the two of you moving in together, Jun had realised that he liked you.

He liked you, not Yueyue. The realisation had been startling, and in a daze, he’d used the card Minghao had given him for his birthday to ask for Minghao’s attention. In those 15 minutes in the meeting room, Jun had voiced out his concerns and desperately asked Minghao for some form of advice.

Jun later told you that Minghao’s answer then had been a simple, “I think you like Y/n.”

Having been in denial for so long, it took Jun a while to realise that his feelings for Yueyue had slowly dissipated over time, and that the lingering sentiments were only platonic, whereas his feelings for you had only grown.

Minghao had offered a simple solution to ease Jun’s heavy heart—drinks with the team. Unbeknownst to him, this action had led to Jun’s implied confession and indirectly caused the two of you to finally get together.

Jun snuggled into your embrace, interrupting your thoughts, nuzzling the underside of your chin and burying his face in the crook of your neck.

”Good morning,” you whispered softly, fingers running through his soft hair. He looked up at you briefly, as if checking over every feature of your face, before nodding in satisfaction and shutting his eyes again.

A peaceful smile came over his face, the blissful expression on his face causing you to smile as well.

”You should marry me,” he mumbled, hands tightening around your waist.

”That’s sudden. Where’s the ring?” You teased.

”Haven’t bought it yet,” he frowned. “But if you don’t say yes, then I wouldn’t have to return it.”

You let out a little laugh. Practical as always. “And if I say yes?”

Eyes still closed, he reached over you to the bedside table, fingertips trailing to the first drawer. He pulled it open, and you turned your head to look. There, sitting on top of your favourite books was a nondescript black velvet box. “Pass it to me,” he said, blinking his eyes slowly open.

You passed it to him without a word and he scrambled to sit up in the bed, both knees tucked under him in a kneeling fashion, opening the box to reveal a ring with a silver band, with a small jewel atop it.

”You said you don’t like fancy things, right?”

Struck speechless, you didn’t protest as he gently took your left hand, slipping the ring onto your fourth finger. He pulled your head in towards his chest, kissing the top of your head.

Just like that, Jun’s proposal to you was as simple and direct as the time when he asked you to move in, less of a question than a request, one that you would gladly agree to.

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