Chapter Text
Twenty-four year old Seongwoo's first 'advice' given to him at Cho & Park's Publishing had been of this:
"Good thing you wore a black-and-white suit today, man. The others weren't so lucky.”
What?
“What?"
The guy in front of him, (definitely younger, has to be, but he did find him sitting in a cubicle with Park Woojin, Editor attached to it) shrugs. He smiles at him, a welcoming smile, and a bit of a snaggletooth comes out. "Just saying, don't ever wear any other suit that's not white shirt, black tie, okay? Minhyun doesn't like it."
It's his first day as assistant of Hwang Minhyun's at the best publishing company in South Korea, and he showed up extra early (twenty minutes) in his best outfit, grin on his face. Ready for the new chapter in his life.
The position isn't great, but after switching from a Business major to Literature halfway through university, he doesn't expect much with his job offers (they weren't bad to be honest, but Ong Seongwoo is nothing but determined, so he rejects them all and opts to live with Jaehwan for a couple of months, browsing the job listings of the great Cho & Park Publishing instead).
Not to mention that Executive Assistant was the only job opening they had at Cho & Park for months. He sighs. He'll just have to climb the ladder then, didn't he?
Hwang Minhyun was already in his office, door closed, but when Seongwoo had gone to knock and kind of [lowkey] boast about how he was early, he saw that he was already speaking to someone and decided it better not to interrupt.
That led him to sit shyly back at his desk, toying with his nameplate. A nameplate.
He's made it, he thinks.
(He texts his group chat a picture of it, with the caption "I'm big time now, baby!!!!! A name plate!!!!!!”
Jaehwan quickly responds with a zoomed in screenshot of "Executive Assistant" under his name, and says "yeah you are.... LMAOOO”.
Daniel and Sungwoon sends variations of "LOL" and "roasted... OTL”.)
Seongwoo frowns. "What do you mean 'Minhyun doesn't like it?' Doesn't like what?"
Another figure pops up behind Woojin in front of his desk, so quickly, that Seongwoo almost jumps. "Doesn't like anything that's not a white shirt, black tie attire for his Assistants."
He has a smirk on his face, knowing that the reasoning is almost laughable.
"Park Jihoon," the guy adds, holding his hand out. "And no, we're definitely not shitting you about that."
Seongwoo responds to the guys hand and shakes it, thoroughly surprised that despite Jihoon's bright and cute-like face, his grip was strong. "The recruitment guy never said anything about that when I got the job?"
Woojin shrugs. "It's not like it's a requirement, per say. But let me just say that every assistant who's worn anything other -- Minhyun hasn't really taken a liking to."
"I..." Seongwoo says, trying to process the information. This Hwang Minhyun seems odd, he didn't realise different colored suits were such a scandal. "I, okay. Thanks for letting me know, then?"
Woojin shrugs. "No worries, man. Minhyun's pretty strict and he hasn't kept an assistant for more than four months at most. But you're handsome (Jihoon swats at his arm with a frown on his face, and that's how Seongwoo comes to know that they're dating) so I hope you're able to stick around."
"Four months?"
Jihoon nods. "We don't really know why, but all we know is one day, we show up to work, and the desk,” he gestures towards the very desk Seongwoo sits at, “Is empty, so."
Seongwoo feels his face turn pale. He figures it's obvious, considering Jihoon quickly adds, "But no worries! I'm sure you'll be fine!”
"Yeah, thanks... is there anything else I should know?"
Their eyes sparkle, as they shrug. "You'll figure it out, soon enough.”
Seongwoo frowns at the vague response.
"Say, do you want to get lunch with us later?" Woojin asks.
And that was that.
✢
Maybe it's because of Woojin and Jihoon's solid first day advice, but Seongwoo manages to keep his job under Minhyun for three solid years. And counting.
But today, today, might be the day he quite honestly loses his job. Because, for the first time, in his three years working under Minhyun, Ong Seongwoo is late.
Really, Daniel and Jihoon were to blame for it. They had spent all night trying to rise up in ranks for Overwatch, and every time Seongwoo had insisted that he had to sleep, the pair would insist that they couldn’t do it without their beloved tank.
(“Daniel, don’t you, I don’t know, have a wedding to plan?”
Daniel laughs. “Sungwoon’s planned all of it. Told me to stay away from anything and everything before I—fucking, Jihoon, where’s the fucking support bro, fuc—before I ruin anything.”
He hears Jihoon snort on another line. “How’s it feel to have that rep, hyung? You’re own fiancé telling you that?”
“Expect a punch in the throat when you come down for the wedding, Hoonie.” Daniel mutters.)
He curses as he swiftly grabs the two venti jasmine teas off the Starbucks counter two blocks from the office, and he waves goodbye to Daehwi behind the counter.
“Never seen you this late before, hyung!” The latter calls out as Seongwoo rushes out, a mischievous lilt in his voice.
“Yeah, yeah! I owe you one, Hwi!”
It’s an approximate thirteen minute walk from Starbucks to Minhyun’s office, counting the three minute elevator ride to the 70th floor, but a quick glance at his watch, as he maneuvers around people on the sidewalk, hints that he only has eight minutes.
Minhyun didn’t like tardies.
(He’s never been late before himself, but three years working for him and watching other people show up to meetings and he knows, knows how frustrated Minhyun gets when there’s wasted time.)
He picks up his pace quickly, and though the paper cups burn against his palms, he pays no mind.
When he reaches the building, and narrowly avoids other people, the security guard beeps him through, seeing how his hands were full and the speed walk he was doing could be mistaken as a light jog.
“Thanks, Taehyun!”
“Cutting it close there!” Taehyun calls out behind him, and an uncharacteristic frown forms on Seongwoo’s face.
“Not the only one who’s told me that today!”is his response.
The whole interaction causes him to slow down his consistent five miles an hour pace, and when he spots the elevator closing, he braces his new leather shoes (that he’s yet to break in) against the marble floors and slides in just in time.
He feels sweat forming on his forehead, but he ignores it to check the leather watch strapped to his wrist.
7:55. Five minutes left to spare.
Damn, is he good.
Being one of the higher floors of the building, by the time he reaches the 70th floor, the previous packed elevator had now emptied out, giving Seongwoo more room to breathe, and the heat that had clung onto his body to subside.
As the elevator dinged, hinting his final destination, the pep in his step had returned. Three minutes left to spare and he was absolute God.
Except God probably didn’t like a mere Ong Seongwoo comparing himself to the almighty, because one glance at his watch when he’s five, just five steps away from his desk, and Jinyoung from the mail room is tumbling straight into him and knocking over one of the cups he’s holding into his shirt.
The first thing he does is hiss, the tea burns, and seriously, what the fuck Jinyoung? but he realizes he doesn’t have time to entertain Jinyoung’s apologies because there’s a huge light green stain forming on his white shirt, and the clock is ticking to down.
7:58.
Fuck.
He quickly turns towards Woojin sitting in his cubicle across from his desk, laughing at the sudden exchange between Seongwoo and Jinyoung.
“Shirt. Off. Now,” Seongwoo says, quickly, panic rising in his voice. “Need it.”
“I— hyung,” Woojin’s laughter dies quickly at Seongwoo’s demand.
“Minhyun is going to be here in approximately one minute, there’s a huge fucking stain on my shirt. Jihoon’s shirt won’t fit me. Therefore, off. Now. Please,” Seongwoo says.
What does Minhyun hate more than tardies? Messes.
“And before you reject me again, I’ll do ten manuscripts of yours,” Seongwoo adds. “Just, please.”
“Fifteen.”
“Ten!”
“Fifteen manuscripts, hyung.”
“Fine. Deal. Off!”
He’s already removed his jacket and is halfway through unbuttoning his shirt right there and then, and he throws Woojin a look of urgency before the younger starts to do the same.
“Hyung, my shirt’s blue,” Woojin whispers.
Seongwoo pauses temporarily, a hand freezing on the last button. His mind whirls a mile a minute. What’s the least offensive (to Minhyun) approach to this that he can bare?
He shakes his head. “Fuck, it’ll have to do.”
The exchange is done quickly, and by the time he successfully tucks the rest of the shirt in, it’s three seconds to plaster a grin on his face, and grabbing the extra drink he had in his hand before he hears the elevator ding.
And at exactly 8:00 am, the 70th floor of Cho & Park Publishing’s laughter and loud conversation dies down to hushed conversations at best, as Hwang Minhyun takes a step onto the marble floor, one hand in his pocket, and the other glued to his phone, texting quickly.
Showtime.
✢
See, the thing was, Hwang Minhyun had never been unkind.
Or at least, never to Seongwoo. And never to anyone who didn’t deserve it.
Sure, he quickly fired Jeon Minho publicly, in front of the whole floor, bluntly, and with the threat of having to be escorted off the premises with security, but honestly, Jeon Minho was a lazy dick who spent more time cheating on his wife than meeting proper deadlines. So.
And that one time when Minhyun had made an off hand comment about the loud nature of everyone on the floor, which, Seongwoo could kind of see how that was a dick move, but at the same time, editors were supposed to be you know, editing, and reading manuscripts instead of placing bets on who was going to ask the other out first, Jinyoung or Guanlin.
But still.
Point is, it wasn’t like Minhyun was the kind of workaholic devil that everyone assumed he was.
Well.
Workaholic, yes. Devil? No.
Seongwoo of all people should know, he had worked closely with Minhyun for three years. And the fact of the matter is, Minhyun is just a perfectionist who works too hard and cares too much about this company.
Sure Minhyun had a few strict rules, and he’s not really ever sure if that whole no colored suits thing was true, but Seongwoo had never tried to test the theory out, and stuck to safe.
Point is, sure, Minhyun was scary in his own right, but Seongwoo had a soft spot for the guy. It’s not everyday he comes across a genius Vice President, Chief Editor of such a large company, who happens to be the same age as him.
(It didn’t mean he wasn’t still scared, though.
No matter that Minhyun wasn’t a devil with an evil agenda, he was still a strict, workaholic who didn’t like to leave room for mistakes. Which, Seongwoo couldn’t even blame him for, considering he built himself up to be the right hand man of the CEO’s right hand man — only two spots away from the job should anything happen — at such a young age.
No — Seongwoo was still definitely scared. He had made a promise to himself on the first day that Minhyun’s handsome face wasn’t going to change that.
All it meant was that he wasn’t as scared as everyone else.)
✢
Minhyun doesn’t even spare Seongwoo a glance as he continues to type into his phone almost angrily, striding into his office.
He quickly follows, shutting the door behind them, and by the time he turns around, Minhyun is already sitting at his desk, typing into his computer rapidly.
Seongwoo greets him a Good Morning! before he’s setting down the tea down in front of Minhyun and turning on his heel.
He’s almost out the door when Minhyun’s voice stops him.
“Is that a blue shirt?”
Seongwoo freezes. Turns around, slowly.
Minhyun’s hand rest slightly above the keys as he pauses, and his eyes are looking at Seongwoo with curiosity.
“I’m um, sorry,” Seongwoo blurts out, and before he can stop himself, he’s rambling. “I was wearing a white button down, but then Jinyoung bumped into me and I spilled tea all over myself, and really, it was a green messy stain, and so then I asked Woojin to trade shirts with me but the he didn’t want to but then I was like, please, so he said fine, and then it wasn’t until it was too late that I realized his shirt was blue, but I figured better blue than a stained shirt right? And. And…..”
He trails off.
Minhyun simply looks at him, a hint of surprised on his face, and it’s a few minutes before Minhyun speaks.
“So Woojin is out there right now, with a tea stained suit?”
“Um. Yes?”
Minhyun simply hums. “Bring my messages to me in five minutes, will you? And show me my schedule for this week. Thanks.”
Seongwoo’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. He can’t tell if he’s mad about the shirt or not. Minhyun’s face remains blank, as it always does.
Seongwoo nods quickly. “Of course.”
He pulls open the door and is halfway out of the room when Minhyun calls out to him again.
“Seongwoo?”
He pops his head back in. “Yeah?”
“The blue looks good on you,” Minhyun says casually, but he’s not looking at Seongwoo, rather flipping through a pile of papers on his desk.
His ears are tinged red.
Seongwoo’s taken aback for a second, and he stands there stunned, confused, but also with a wave of relief flowing through him.
“Seongwoo?” Minhyun says again, looking up to stare at him. Seongwoo is snapped out of his daze. “Messages, please? You have three minutes left.”
“Oh, yeah, sorry, of course,” he says, and he’s scrambling back out, shutting the door quickly.
He doesn't understand why his heart is thumping out of his chest.
✢
god seongwoo
bros
bros
b r o s
better park #1
what do u want
thnx for ditching
daniel and i last night btw >:(
god seongwoo
bro i stayed up until 5am
i was almost late this morning
did wooj not catch u up
mediocre park #2
jihoon u still didnt change my MCFONKIN name back?!?!?!?!?!
and sorry ong? i was kind of um idk
too busy like
UM IDK hiding this massive stain on my shirt thank u
god seongwoo
anyway
as i was like saying before i was so Rudely interrupted
better park #1
what the fuck
mediocre park #2
WHAT THE FUCK
god seongwoo
//ANYWAY//
u would not believe what FCKN happened
better park #1
omg just say it
god seongwoo
ok
ok so
OK WOW
so....
mediocre park #2
[SCREENSHOT]
god seongwoo
WAIT
dont threaten to leave the groupchat FETUS.
EMBRYO
it's just that this shites just so crazy bro......
better park #1
......
god seongwoo
OK OK serious now
to catch u ALL UP
(all as in JIHOON)
jinyoung, that absolute MESS, bumped into me
and there was a huge ass fckn stain on my shirt
so i kindly asked woojin to switch shirts with me
but then his shirt was blue
medicore park #2
he didnt kindly ask
i was literally forced
god seongwoo
AS I WAS SAYING
HIS SHIRT WAS BLUE
and then
and /then i was like ok whatever fuck it i guess
i'll just face his wrath
and then
i walkedi n there and tried to pretend nothing happened
and i was like /good morning! top of the morning to ya!
in my chipper im the Greatest Assistant Ever voice
and he was like. is that a blue shirt? and i was like....
FCK
mediocre park #2
FUCK
better park #1
FUCK
so are u fire d im in
the cafeteria and cant go to look at u emptying ur desk :P :P :P
xD
xD XD
(um. these are ironic btw)
god seongwoo
so ANYWAY
i start apologizing like crazy cus FUCK minhyun doesn’t like crazy shirts at work i guess..
and im like damn i know i shouldnt be wearing um.. IDK?!?! COLOR?!?!!?
BUT IM SORRY?!!?!?!!?!?!?
i mean it was more like
owo im os sowwy.. this will neve hwappen again…
& to his hot face im like owo….
BUT ANYWAY as i was saying
he doesnt even look at me but then he's like
I QUOTE
/hwang minhyun voice/ the blue looks good on you
better park #1
W
mediocre park #2
wha
better park #1
hwna mingyun voice
mediocre park #2
the blue looks gdoo on YUO
god seongwoo
i mean we've been knew blue looks good on me
but
POINT IS IM STILLLLL HERE BAABY
FAWK
g2g
he calling me
mediocre park #2
WAIT
better park #1
BITCH?
"Seongwoo?" a voice calls, and Seongwoo whips his head up from typing rapidly into the chat on his computer. He scrambles quickly towards the voice, into Minhyun’s office, and plasters a polite smile on his face.
“Yes, sir?”
Minhyun doesn’t spare a glance at Seongwoo as he continues to look through the files in front of him. He flips to the next page loudly. “Jisung’s been bothering the hell out of me to come see him. Can you tell him I’ll be up there in five minutes? Also come get me when I’ve been up there for more than ten minutes. Please.”
Seongwoo nods quickly. “Make up some excuse to get you out of there?”
“As always.”
Seongwoo almost laughs. “I’ll go ahead and tell CEO Yoon you’ll be up in five minutes, sir!”
It’s a brief, almost inaudible, Thanks, on Minhyun’s side, before Seongwoo is returning back to his desk.
✢
“Good morning, Mr. Hwang,” Jonghyun, Jisung’s assistant calls out to him as he passes by.
He barely gives a nod towards the other, opening the double doors to Jisung’s office to enter.
“And to what do I owe this pleasure, hyung?” Minhyun says, strolling in with a polite smile on his face.
“Minhyun,” Jisung says, looking up from his computer, and pushing the glasses resting on his nose higher above his face. “Finally. I’ve been trying to get you to stop by my office for the past couple days, you know.”
Minhyun shrugs. “You know how it is.”
Jisung simply chuckles.
“Minhyun, I’ve actually called you in for a very serious reason. Now, you know how much I appreciate you not only as an integral workpiece to this company but as a person,” Jisung starts.
Minhyun almost laughs.
“You’re scaring me. If this is about Mr. Park not wanting to do a sequel, I’ve already talked him and he said yes. You undertestimate me, hyung, as always,” he teases.
Jisung pointedly ignores him. “Minhyun.”
He quiets down, a frown gracing his face as he realizes the seriousness in Jisung’s voice. Okay, he thinks. Not about Mr. Park and his sequel.
“Remember, when you went to Japan to convince Mr. Yoshida to release his book here in Korea?”
“Yes.”
“Remember how that was while you’re work visa was being processed so you weren’t technically allowed to go out of the country until it was finished processing? And I told you Jeon Minho should go instead?”
“Yes.”
Jisung raises his eyebrows.
Minhyun scoffs. “I mean, yeah, but that was a billion won deal that we were going to lose if I didn’t talk to him. I saved it, though. Not Jeon Minho. That piece of shit would’ve just wasted a business trip because Mr. Yoshida still would’ve said no to him.”
Jisung sighs. “Well, apparently the Republic of Korea doesn’t quite thing that’s a valid enough excuse, Minhyun.”
“What?”
“Minhyun, you’re getting deported,” Jisung says, exasperatedly.
“I— excuse me?”
“Your immigration attorney has been calling me all week, Minhyun.” Jisung explains, leaning backwards to rub at his forehead. “I tried to see what I can do, but. But, Minhyun. You’re getting deported.”
“Deported?”
“He even said you didn’t even finish filling out some other paperwork. I mean,” Jisung shakes his head, disappointment evident. “I mean, what were you thinking, Minhyun?”
What was he thinking? What was he thinking?
“How am I getting deported?” Minhyun’s voice rises. He runs a hand over his face. “I’m barely… I’m barely a foreigner, for Christ’s sake. I mean. I mean, I’m Korean, Jesus Christ? Barely even Korean-American, I mean I only moved to the United States in high school and got my U.S Citizenship when I was in college. I mean. I mean, I’m not even a foreigner, what the—“
Jisung cuts him off. “I understand that, Minhyun, and if there was something I could do, I would’ve done it already. But I don’t have a choice. You don’t have a choice.”
Minhyun’s almost rendered speechless. He racks his brain for a solution. Deported? His own true motherland deporting him?
“I, uh. That’s fine? That’s fine! I mean,” he laughs almost manically. “I mean. We live in the twenty-first century now. No big deal. No worries. I can take meetings over Skype and do conference calls, right? No problem and I—“
“Minhyun, you can’t. You can’t work for our company while you are deported. You have to be back in the United States for a year while we reapply.”
“Jesus Ch—“
“Um, excuse me?”
Both Jisung and Minhyun’s heads whip towards the door.
Seongwoo stands there, sheepishly. “So sorry to interrupt, but Mr. Kim, writer of Over the Sea, you know, has been calling for the past hour. Says, he really needs to talk to you, Minhyun. I mean. Mr. Hwang. Sir. I tried to hold him off as much as I can but he says it is very urgent.”
He throws a look at Minhyun.
“Seongwoo, hi. We’re a bit busy right now can you—“ Jisung starts.
Seongwoo bows stiffly at Jisung. "I'm so sorry, CEO Yoon. Sir," he turns to look at Minhyun with a raised eyebrow. "He really needs to speak with you."
"I get that Seongwoo, but I'm having a very important conversation with Minhyun right now and—"
Seongwoo. Wait.
Minhyun interrupts Jisung.
“Jisung, y-you’re you’re right! I can’t do overseas. And. I mean. We weren’t planning on doing it for another year or even announcing it any time soon. But I guess. Now. Um. Now is the best time. More than ever. So. So—“ Minhyun gestures towards Seongwoo to come towards him. Seongwoo inches away from the door, surprise evident on his face. He looks like a deer caught in the headlights. Minhyun yanks him by the arm and wraps his own around Seongwoo’s waist. Seongwoo yelps. “So I guess now is the time to tell you that. Um. Seongwoo and I. Are engaged! Getting married? Yes, we’re getting married.”
“Excuse me?”
“Um, what the fuck?”
Both Minhyun and Jisung whip towards Seongwoo as the profanity escapes his lips. Seongwoo reddens, and clears his throat, throwing his arm back to scratch his neck.
“Sorry. I um,” Seongwoo starts.
Beside him, Minhyun pinches his waist, and he jumps a little.
“You’re,” Jisung looks at them warily with a wave of his eyebrows. “You two, are getting married.”
A deadpan.
“I— uh. Yes?” Seongwoo squeaks out. He turns his head slowly, braving a look at Minhyun. Minhyun doesn’t even glance at him, his smile towards Jisung the biggest he’s ever seen Minhyun smile.
“I—“ Jisung’s brow furrows. “Seongwoo… is your. Secretary.”
“I prefer to be called Executive Assistant?”
“I mean, this wouldn’t be the first time people fell in love with their secretaries, am I right…”
Seongwoo and Minhyun say at the same time.
Minhyun tacks on awkward laugh towards the end.
“I mean, we weren’t supposed to get married until next year — we haven’t even announced it to anyone, you know. Our relationship, that is. I mean. What would people think? We were two people who weren’t really meant to fall in love,” Minhyun laughs pulling Seongwoo closer to him. He feels Seongwoo’s reddening and warm skin against his. “But. I guess. I guess you can’t fight love, right, hyung? So. Yeah. We can. We can just make the wedding happen, uh, a lot faster than planned. Uh, right? Honey?”
Minhyun turns to look at Seongwoo, and while Seongwoo still wasn’t quite sure what was happening, the look in Minhyun’s eyes causes him to smile and nod.
Jisung sighs belatedly, and smiles at them. “That’s great, Minhyun. Really. I’m glad you found love. You’re always working, you know. This is great, the both of you guys. You too, Seongwoo.”
“I— thanks?”
“I’m hurt you didn’t tell me sooner, Minhyun, but I understand where you’re coming from… considering you’re, uh. Relationship with each other.”
Minhyun laughs his signature laugh, swaying on the balls of his feet. It’s a rare one that Seongwoo has heard, Minhyun rarely laughs, he thinks, but it’s one he thinks can be the equivalent to bells ringing softly.
“I’m sorry to have bothered you, hyung. And for not telling you. I’m glad you understand.”
Jisung nods. “Just make it legal. Soon. As soon as possible, yeah?”
He points to his ring finger, and gives them a wink.
“Yeah, of course, hyung,” Minhyun responds.
“Yes, sir,” Seongwoo manages to say, dazed, before Minhyun is ushering him out of the room.