Chapter Text
Zhang Hao likes to think of himself as a level headed person, someone in complete control over his emotions. He believes his impeccable work ethic serves as proof, his steel-like consistency in setting his mind to one goal unswayed by impending emotions can only validate his self discipline. That is what earned him his current position as an employee of the sales division in Aroma, an internationally acknowledged coffee company located in Seoul, Korea. Throughout his life, he had been praised for his determination in mastering anything he did, from colouring in between the lines on his picture book better than any of the other toddlers, to achieving first place in his graduation research papers, and to impressing his colleagues through his monthly presentations.
Nevertheless, Zhang Hao is happy with where he is in life and satisfied with the opportunities spread out before him after graduating with first honours in his finance degree. Well, except for one dooming presence that sits pristin and proper from Mondays to Fridays on his sleek leather chair. A being that strides across the office overseeing the sales division like a hawk before inevitability spending the rest of his work hours confined in his polished glass walled office. Zhang Hao had hoped to become more accepting of his tragic fate of working alongside his college ex-boyfriend when the man had introduced himself to the staff of the sales division as the new supervisor.
Zhang Hao had assumed that no further introduction was needed between them. Until a nosy coworker spewed absolute scandal during their lunch outings that same day. Sung Hanbin, his ex-boyfriend, the man he dated for just over two years in his university days, who he broke it off with just before graduating his own degree two years ago, was the son of the chairman of Aroma. He recalls himself hiding in one of the bathroom stalls in the sushi restaurant, yelling to his best friend Quan Rui over the phone. Hanbin was distant, that was the root of their eventual failed relationship but Hao had falsely assumed he had known certainly much more of Hanbin than he actually did. It certainly explained things, the possibility of an ordinary graduate landing the position of a supervisor at a division in one of the most prestigious companies in South Korea nearing impossible. However, the possibility of dating a man in college and thinking you knew him inside out until he shows up at your place of work to be revealed as a nepotism baby, can be considered as even more far fetched. Unfortunately, this is Zhang Hao’s reality.
Hearing Sung Hanbin’s name thrown around so simply at work was jarring to say the least. Especially since he had forbidden Quan Rui from spelling the cursed name since the break up. It sounded foreign in the confinements of the changed environment. Previously he had been the one who called out the name, at home in his apartment where Hanbin would stay over after his long work shifts in a restaurant near him, at the campus library when he would drop of iced americanos to the boy when finals were around the corner, or when he whispered his name like a prayer on Sunday mornings spent together with their limbs tangled under Hao’s cheap cotton duvet.
“Mr. Sung, you asked for me?”
Zhang Hao stands there in the gap between the office door and knocks lightly against the glass. Dark brown eyes flutter to catch his gaze from an incredibly bright desktop screen. The fluorescent lighting highlights his red cheeks and the fragile lashes hovering over them, making Hanbin appear even younger than he is. Hao tries to focus on the cold feel of the glass against his knuckles instead.
One characteristic about the man that has remained consistent since their first meeting was the lack of effort Hanbin put into his appearance. Not to be misunderstood because Hanbin is undoubtedly a gorgeous man, although Zhang Hao refuses to entertain the idea at this moment in time. Rather it is his choice in attire that provides a stark contrast to his economic status and neat work ethic. Instead of abiding to the basic black suited fashion infesting the whole company, Hanbin chooses to wear his signature beige suit. Although the man has proven himself to be competent at his work as a supervisor despite his young age, he proves to be unskilful in wearing his red tie properly, the flaps always separated messily on top of his white button up shirt. Two years ago, Zhang Hao had the habit of arranging his uniform ties for him, before Hanbin would head off to work as a waiter. Nearly a rat’s life span has passed and Sung Hanbin still sucked severely at fixing himself up accordingly.
Hanbin gestures for him to sit across the desk onto a lime green stool. “Zhang Hao-shi, I read your last report on suggestions in increasing profits regarding the new roast bean package,” he takes out the stack of papers binded together by pink paper clips, “I feel that your ideas have the potential to be incredibly beneficial to the upcoming releases and I was wondering if you would be interested in presenting your recommendations to the next board of director meeting?”
Zhang Hao stills before a small smile slowly appears at the compliment. He feels oddly appreciated by the other man, as he had worked overtime to finish the report before the deadline.
“Of course your ideas may have to be condensed into a powerpoint presentation but nonetheless I think it will be a good opportunity? But of course do not think I am forcing you, this is all up to you Zhang Hao-shi! I understand you have many deadlines as it is.”
Hao clasps his palms together, interrupting his ramble, and the other man jumps slightly in his leather seat, “I’d be very happy too.”
As if he was truly afraid of the other’s reaction, Hanbin visibly deflates in relief by the answer. He thumbs over the file on his desk once, then twice, and then once more. Hao watches him trap his lower lip between his incisors, oddly satisfied with how uncomfortable and awkward the other presents in front of him. Which is incredibly rich coming from Hao because he feels an ungodly amount of sweat accumulated between his closed palms, his fingers picking at his nail beds frantically. His focus adverts from Hanbin’s stupid, stupid face to the tragic state of the tie hung around his white collared neck, draping in front of his chest like a loose chain. Call him a perfectionist because his hands itch to fix it immediately, unwillingly of course.
“Well, uh, that’s great! I’ll let you know a specific date when I know for sure. I’ll remember to,” he reaches over his desk to grab a loose pink sticky note and a crystalline ballpoint pen. Zhang Hao’s sure he might undergo cardiac arrest if he were to find out the price of it.
When there was not a reply, Hanbin halts his writing, instead allowing himself to follow the other’s gaze to his neck. He raises an eyebrow in amusement, “Zhang Hao-shi?”
Embarrassed and devoid of his remaining decorum, Hao finds himself speaking without thinking through the possible repercussions, “Sir you’re tie.”
His hand moves before his brain could register, his index finger pointing accusingly at the red tie. He pulls his hand back almost instantly, perhaps he had over stepped. But Hanbin did not look annoyed or even embarrassed because Zhang Hao catches a slit upturn of his lips, a lopsided grin fighting to escape.
“Oh I see! I’m heading to a meeting with a client after this, thank you for letting me know!” His textbook corporate conversing tone reappears at an instant, solidifying the fact that their past was nothing but like a dream. Their relationship is solely professional at best, as if their lives had never entangled prior, as if they knew nothing about each other outside of work. It’s a useless and suffocating game they put up with. Hanbin pretends to not know Hao’s preferable water temperature for his weekend baths and Zhang Hao tries to forget how Hanbin liked his egg cooked, a silent yet beneficial agreement.
Hanbin sticks the note down onto the edge of his display screen, taking his sweet time pressing over the sticky top down with his thumb. The ballpoint pen remains in his other pen. Neither of the two takes particular notice of it until a string of blue ink makes its way down along Hanbin’s closed fists, staining the skin. The pen explodes.
“Fuck,” Hanbin swears under his breath, he gulps looking up at Zhang Hao with plead, his dark eyes peering through his fluttering eyelashes desperately, “Do you think you could?”. He signals down to his tie with his chin.
Zhang Hao tilts his head in confusion, and then he realises. Oh. Oh.
This isn’t weird right? Hanbin is simply asking for help from an employee as he is under unforeseeable circumstances. Of course, this is normal. Hao sits up stiffly from his stool and makes his way around the desk, the other man moving up simultaneously. The two stand awkwardly facing each other for a beat too long before Zhang Hao is moving closer. “Sorry, I’ll just, um,” he grips lightly onto the flaps of fabric, gently but with great technique as he loops the loose ends over the other. The two stand at similar heights with Hao just a little taller, neither crane their necks and keep a safe but rigid distance as time ticks. Hanbin is not looking at him but rather fixating at the fingers roaming around his chest, making the other unreasonably nervous.
Blame it on muscle memory, blame it on the fact that it's early in the morning, because Hao’s hands flatten to smooth out the fabric as the final touch, moving his palm from midway between the collarbones to where the tie ends just above the centre of Hanbin’s chest. As if electrocuted on the spot, his hand retreats quicker than lightning to reside back to his sides. His actions shock himself as much as it surprises the other because when he looks up ashamed, Hanbin gapes back at him, clearly bewildered but attempting to mask it with a polite but breathy, “Thanks!”
Don’t fuck your coworker they said. Well. Too late.
-
“Did you read the email?” Taerae glides across the walkway to Zhang Hao’s desk as soon as the latter arrives back from the supervisor’s office. His blocky brown glasses sit over his nose arch, the overhead lights reflecting against the lenses but does nothing to hide the eager look behind them. Still unrecovered from whatever just happened, Zhang Hao resembles a deer caught in headlights when a freakishly bright phone screen is shoved into his frame of view by his friend. He reads the title and visibly collapses onto his armchair. Christmas party Invitation - Secret Santa announcement!.
Zhang Hao vaguely recalls the last work Christmas party, he also remembers waking up in his bathroom next to the toilet bowl still in the outfit he wore out, but with one shoe missing and a suspicious stain on his white blouse. Taerae crashed on his couch last year, well, he was halfway to the couch and collapsed, his limbs spreaded out on his living room carpet.
“I’m not going.”
Taerae has the audacity to pull back his phone with fright and clutching onto his knitted jumper at his heart to add in the shock value. The idea of rejection is unfathomable to him. “And why not? We had a great time last year!”
“Well that’s what I thought, until Soobin from marketing kindly informed me that he saw me and Hae-in making out near the cheese fountain that night? Don’t you remember? I’m still not over the fact that you didn’t stop me by the way.” Zhang Hao scoffs in disbelief as he swings his chair to face his own desk, away from his traitor of a friend.
“Oh my god I remember that,” his friend chokes back a cackle before forcing his lips in a trembling line when Hao shoots him a sharp glare, “Hae-in from human resources was it? He’s hot though. Plus you can’t blame me, I was just as gone as you, I was probably in that cheese fountain myself!”
“Speaking of him actually, is he still not obsessed with you? I heard from very reputable sources that he frequently asks for your updates,” Taerae lifts a finger to poke teasingly at Hao’s arms and skillfully dodges a slap, “anyways, you and I both know that you're in no place to decline.”
It’s the truth, although the email sent presents itself as an invitation, the company party requires an obligated presence from all employees unless a reasonable excuse is provided. It's a sign of respect towards those of important roles in Aroma. The only time he’s heard of someone gaining approved absence from the Christmas party was one of the front desk receptionists, apparently his wife was likely due for labour.
“I know”, Zhang Hao makes sure to draw out his vowels, “but secret santa is a waste of time, what are you even meant to buy someone you barely even know?” It made no sense to Zhang Hao, the whole mystery gift giving lacked reasoning. Secret santa includes all those working for Aroma, the likelihood of him picking out a name he could put a face to would be a miracle. He prays to be assigned with someone from his division, if only he would be so lucky.
“Have you seen who you got yet?” Hao questions as he sneaks his hand into his blazer pocket and mindlessly unlocks his phone to navigate through his work email.
“Mmh yeah, I got Soobin, thank god. I atleast know him,” Taerae bends over the phone screen and watches his friend press onto the link attached to the invitation email, bringing him to a separate web page.
Click to reveal your assigned buddy!
Zhang Hao politely snorted at the tacky design of the website, some poor soul from the IT department undoubtedly had spent an ungodly amount of time in creating it just before the deadline. He thumbs over the big gold reveal button in the centre of the red glittery background, a sense of dread suddenly overcomes him. He presses down.
[To Zhang Hao,
You are assigned as Secret santa to give a present to:
Sung Hanbin.
Happy holidays!]
“Well at least you know him!”