Zhou Mi has always enjoyed working at SuperSolutions Inc™. The pay is good, the people are friendly, and he gets to spend his days at the secretary desk on the 15th floor greeting his coworkers with a cheery smile.

 

Being the company’s secretary also comes with the perk of always being up to date on the latest gossip, which these days consists of the drama between the company’s most talked about (read: only) couple: Lee Donghae and Lee Hyukjae. Up until about a week ago, they’d been embarrassing their fellow employees with inappropriate levels of PDA and general mushiness. They they’d suddenly split on bad terms, and no one seems to know the how or why of it.

 

It’s a downright shame, Zhou Mi thinks, that two people who used to be so in love are now so far apart. He’d watched adoringly as they walked into work each day, progressing from casual flirting (“Can I get you a coffee?”) to the awkward inbetween (“You look hot today I mean it’s hot out today...damn it.”) to sweet resolution (“If I tell you I love you will you shut up, Hyukjae?”).

 

Ah, love. Zhou Mi lives for it. And that’s why he hopes against hope that those two will be able to sort through their issues and get back to being the happy couple they deserve to be.

 

Zhou Mi thinks they care about each other far too much not to work it out.

 

~*~

 

Sungmin thinks Hyukjae is an idiot.

 

Correction: he knows. He’s good friends with his coworker; they have to be, when they’re both working so closely together in Accounting. But that doesn’t mean he’ll blind himself to how stupidly stubborn Hyukjae is to not just go ahead and talk to the guy he’s clearly still in love with.

 

It’s been getting more and more ridiculous as time goes by. Sungmin walks to get coffee with Hyukjae every morning, and he has to deal with the other man’s unending ‘insults’ if they happen to cross paths with Donghae.

 

“Can you believe that shirt he’s wearing today?” Hyukjae will spit out once Donghae is out of earshot. “It’s so stupid, but why does it look so good on him? Ugh. His taste is horrible.”

 

“Do you even hear yourself.”

 

Hyukjae just keeps talking like he hasn’t even noticed. “And besides, why doesn’t he get coffee? Only wimps and self-absorbed s don’t get coffee. Not that Donghae is either of those; he’s ridiculously nice and generous. But that’s what everyone is going to think. Idiot.”

 

“And those big doe eyes, huh?” Sungmin eggs him on, just to see if he can.

 

“Yes! They’re so stupid. You look at them once and you get pulled in━”

 

“Uh huh.”

 

Sungmin takes another world-weary sip of his coffee and questions his choice in friends.

 

The moment he almost, almost gives up entirely is the morning that he meets Hyukjae in the first floor lobby. They get in the elevator to take it up to the office, only for Donghae to slip in behind them just before the doors slide shut.

 

It’s obvious that Donghae isn’t expecting to see them. His eyes widen to saucers before he whips around to leave, only to nearly run smack into the closed doors. He looks about two seconds away from repeatedly slamming the ‘door open’ button before he thinks better of it and stands awkwardly in the corner.

 

Sungmin almost chokes on the awkward tension that fills the confined space. The ding! of them hitting each of the floors is the only sound, until the display reads ‘15’ and they’re finally free.

 

“Have a good day, Donghae,” Sungmin says as they split up, trying to be civil enough for both Hyukjae and himself.

 

Hyukjae mumbles something unintelligible, and Donghae looks after him with longing eyes as they go their separate ways. Sungmin just about smacks both of them upside the head.

 

“Ugh.”

 

“Did you say something, Sungmin?”

 

“Let’s just hurry up. I need to be caffeinated now.”

 

Sungmin used to listen in on the rumours being spread by their other coworkers: they broke up because Donghae accidentally poisoned Hyukjae with expired shellfish, because Hyukjae had once made Donghae burst out crying in the middle of a crowded bakery, because they’d been on opposite sides of Twizzlers vs. Red Vines. Now he frankly doesn’t give a damn.

 

He knows it’s become a real problem when the head of Accounting comes to speak with Hyukjae himself.

 

“Hyukjae, you have to snap out of it,” Kangin tells him point-blank. “I understand that things are going on in your personal life right now, but I need results. And you’re not giving me those when you’re sitting here moping instead of balancing accounts. When you don’t do your job, we all suffer, okay?”

 

Hyukjae gives him a weak nod, forehead hitting his desk the instant Kangin is gone.

 

“I’m ruined,” he moans. Papers scatter with the force that he’s hit the wood, piling at Hyukjae’s feet. He looks like the picture of misery.

 

And now Sungmin knows exactly what he has to do: he goes to Kim Heechul.

 

~*~

 

Henry is Heechul’s intern, whose job generally consists of nodding enthusiastically when the other man says something that sounds vaguely profound and fetching him coffee.

 

Heechul doesn’t drink coffee. He can’t stand the taste. But he tells Henry that holding it makes him “look like he’s making himself useful.” Henry doesn’t know why Heechul would want an intern in the first place if he had to make up work for him to do, but he won’t question the other man’s wisdom.

 

Of course, some of that blind obedience probably stems from moderate fear of Heechul that lingers in the back of Henry’s mind. Heechul isn’t usually a scary person; he’s the company’s project manager, but he spends most of his time hanging around the different departments and getting nothing done. The other employees have every reason to hate him with how much he’s getting paid in comparison, but Heechul treating them to lunch most days has so far prevented a full-on mutiny. It’s abundantly clear that Heechul’s hiring was because of a favor owed by their boss and not because of his technical skillset.

 

No, Henry’s fear isn’t because of Heechul’s lazy tendencies. It’s because of his promotion from grunt worker to project manager that came out of the blue last October, after the previous holder of the position had mysteriously quit. When asked about it even now, Heechul only gives Henry a wicked smile and never answers. It’s enough to give the young intern nightmares.

 

So when Sungmin from Accounting comes to talk to Heechul in the break room about the need to get two of their coworkers back together, Henry stands quietly in the background and watches with wide eyes as the need to scheme twists Heechul’s expression into a calculating grin.

 

“What’s in it for me?” Heechul asks, but they all know he’s already hooked.

 

“Your job,” Sungmin tells him. “Do you really think Leeteuk is going to let you keep overseeing company projects if two of your best workers are too distracted to do their part?”

 

“Please. We have other accountants, and Donghae works in Marketing. Marketing. But luckily for you, I’ll still help anyway. You’re welcome.”

 

Henry wonders if this is what all adults in the workforce generally do for a living. Will he get paid for this someday?

 

~*~

 

There are two things Kyuhyun hates: incompetency, and a slow Internet connection. His position as head of IT involves dealing with, and hopefully fixing, both.

 

He’d spent the first few months of the job digging his claws into the company’s systems, but when that got too easy he gave up. Now he generally passes the time leveling up his already-overpowered video game characters to make rookies cry, while Shindong smuggles in doughnuts from the break room to gain favor with their Evil Overlord (read: Kyuhyun) even though Kyuhyun adamantly insists the carbs will go straight to his thighs, and Yesung does god knows what on his own computer.

 

A push notification dings on Kyuhyun’s computer, and he minimizes his game, a smirk already in place. It grows tenfold when he sees the beginning of the email’s contents, something along the lines of “I can’t seem to log in to the company server?” Kyuhyun will admit that he takes an evil sort of satisfaction in typing back a not-so-subtly condescending email with a solution he’s given time and time again.

 

He’s halfway through what’s turning into a response with a truly impressive level of snark, a hair’s breadth away from cackling as his fingers fly over the keyboard, when Heechul shows up.

 

“Cho, my main man, my go-to guy, my━”

 

“What do you want, Heechul?” Kyuhyun asks, immediately suspicious.

 

“Fine, I’ll get right to it, then. Recent unfortunate events in the personal lives of two of our fellow labor-slaves are putting a wrench in my top-notch project management skills.”

 

“Hyukjae broke up with the cute guy in Marketing and their moping around is making you look bad.”

 

“Precisely.”

 

It’s not the first time Kyuhyun thinks someone needs to kick Heechul in the balls. “And for some reason,” he says, unamused, “you felt the need to bring this information to me.”

 

“I need your help getting them back together so we can all get on with our lives. If you and your Geek Squad can hack into Hyukjae’s email account and...well, you can hear the full Evil Plan™ once you agree to help me.”

 

Kyuhyun has heard enough, but when he turns to judge Shindong’s and Yesung’s reactions, he can see that they’re already roped into this ridiculous matchmaking scheme. They’re probably thrilled to be doing anything outside of their normal routine. But Kyuhyun can’t help but feel that caving to the other man’s demands will permanently compromise his Evil Overlord status that he’s worked so hard to establish.

 

“No.”

 

“Why?” Heechul asks him, not fazed in the slightest.

 

“Because it’s stupid. There are better things that I can waste my time on.”

 

“Like that email?” Kyuhyun dims the brightness on his monitor with rapid-fire speed, but Heechul has already seen it. “Did you even read the name? Zhou Mi was the one who sent it.”

 

There’s a moment of extended silence while Kyuhyun checks to make sure Heechul isn’t pulling his leg, but it is, in fact, from their resident secretary.

 

“Well, . Now I feel obliged to be nice.”

 

Heechul doesn’t answer him, just turns to leave. “If you’re incapable of helping me, I’ll find someone else who actually can.”

 

“You know that no one else can,” Kyuhyun shoots back, immediately defensive.

 

“I’m sure there is. It’s just a matter of looking. We can’t have incompetent employees in every department, can we?”

 

Kyuhyun nearly hisses. “I’m not going to play your games, Heechul. We’re not helping. End of story. Find something else to occupy your time.”

 

The smirk on Heechul’s face is positively devilish. “Speaking of stories...should I tell the boss that it was you who text-replaced his email announcement last week with Neko Atsume fanfiction?”

 

“You can’t prove that I did it. I covered my tracks.”

 

“Funny how these things go,” Heechul retorts, whipping out the audio recorder he’s apparently been hiding in his back pocket, and Kyuhyun wants nothing more than to throw him out the window of the 15th floor. “I trust we have a deal, then. So this is what I’m thinking…”

 

There are three things Kyuhyun hates: incompetency, a slow Internet connection, and Kim Heechul.

 

~*~

 

Ryeowook is pulled into a corner by Shindong on his way back from the bathroom, which is when he learns that he’s apparently a key player in their project manager’s new scheme.

 

“What you have to do is simple enough,” Shindong tells him. “You’re the only one besides Siwon who works in Donghae’s same department, and Heechul doesn’t trust Siwon not to spill the entire plan to him before we’re done. Just stick this USB drive into Donghae’s computer when he’s not around, and it’ll upload a virus that gives Kyuhyun full access to his email account.”

 

“And you think giving Kyuhyun that kind of power is a good idea?”

 

“Just because we call him our Evil Overlord doesn’t mean he’s actually evil. He’ll use that access to send fake messages and get the two of them back together, and then he’ll give it up ━ I trust him...or at least, I trust that Heechul will threaten him into doing it.”

 

Ryeowook’s relationship with his coworkers generally consists of bringing them muffins every Friday, not actively sabotaging their personal information. This is way out of his comfort zone. But it’s purely out of curiosity (and maybe a bit of sympathy for Donghae and Hyukjae) that he accepts the USB drive from Shindong’s eager grip.

 

Ryeowook has a feeling this can’t end well.

 

~*~

 

It doesn’t end well. Kangin gets the story from Heechul and Sungmin during their break next day in, frankly, more detail than he’s interested in.

 

Kyuhyun’s USB virus that Sungmin and Ryeowook had infected Hyukjae and Donghae’s respective computers with had successfully taken root. He’d sent a sugar-coated message of apology from ’Hyukjae’, as well as set up both of their inboxes to transfer actual messages from each other directly to spam to prevent petty arguments from interfering.

 

Which would have been a great plan. Except when Donghae received the heartfelt apology, he immediately replied with an essay-length heartfelt message of his own...an email that was immediately sent to Hyukjae’s spam folder. And Ryeowook had to sit through two hours of Donghae hurling every insult known to man at the walls of the Marketing office while he typed a strongly-worded rant about not replying that was, coincidentally, also sent to spam.

 

Kyuhyun just about stabs his desk pen into his eye when he finds out how he screwed up. Heechul just about does it for him.

 

But in the end, no one loses an eye, and both Heechul and Sungmin come to ask Kangin for suggestions on how to proceed.

 

Kangin wants to tell them that just because he oversees Hyukjae’s work doesn’t mean he’s qualified to interfere with the other man’s love life, but he has a feeling they’ll never leave him alone. So, instead, he goes for a ridiculous-but-just-sane-enough-not-to-seem-like-I’m-blowing-you-off suggestion.

 

“Why don’t you force them into the same room during a fake power outage? Hyukjae at least is enough of a coward to be afraid of the dark, and maybe they’ll...I don’t know, rush to each other and dramatically make up in the midst of their fear or something. Doesn’t that work in dramas?”

 

Silence follows Kangin’s suggestion, and he’s sure with the look Heechul is giving him that he’s about to be shot down and then some, but Heechul finally shrugs.

 

“Sure, why the hell not?”

 

So that’s how Heechul and Kangin end up standing in the electrical room, waiting while Sungmin runs interference with Hyukjae to get him into the break room alone with the other target of their scheming. A text from their fellow conspirator lights up Heechul’s phone, and he shoots Kangin one last look before he puts the plan into action.

 

“You sure it’s this switch?” Heechul asks him, eyebrow raised.

 

Kangin would be more offended at the other man’s lack of faith in him if it wasn’t so justified.

 

“Of course I am.”

 

He’s not.

 

And Kangin is seriously questioning right about now who gave him the credentials to get in here in the first place, because that’s the only reason they’re able to stand and watch as not only the breakroom power, but the electricity for the entire building, powers down.

 

Please wait at least thirty minutes before restoring building power to prevent a system malfunction, the display panel tells them helpfully.

 

“Were we...in the middle of a company-wide upgrade from IT?” Kangin asks just to stop himself from panicking.

 

“...Not anymore, we’re not.”

 

Heechul slowly backs away from the panel of switches. Kangin starts mentally tracing the fastest route away from the scene of the crime. And somewhere in the pitch blackness, they hear Kyuhyun screeching.

 

~*~

 

Leeteuk has not been having a good week.

 

Not only has he had to deal with a mysterious drop in employee productivity on top of his usual concerns as head of the company, but he’s also had to apologize to the 12 other corporations who have offices in the building, apologies which were met with mixed reception to say the least.

 

Two of his employees had shut the power down entirely. He can’t wrap his head around it; Heechul he can’t say he’s too surprised about, but Kangin? The other man has always seemed so mature and put-together.

 

It’s this confusion that brings Leeteuk to one of the 15th floor meeting rooms, after calling the two troublemakers to follow him in.

 

Kangin doesn’t last ten seconds.

 

“It was all Heechul’s idea,” he says immediately, and although Heechul places an offended hand over his heart with a far too dramatic gasp, it feels like Leeteuk’s world is spinning on its axis again.

 

“Listen, you unloyal piece of ━”

 

“Heechul!” Leeteuk cuts in, a practiced smile still on his face. “No one is in trouble. I just came to ask both of you what’s going on.”

 

“So I can tell the whole truth and not get in trouble?”

 

Leeteuk feels his left eye twitch. “This is a safe space, yes.”

 

And with that green light, Heechul takes the opportunity to describe in (very thorough) detail the horrors of having two SuperSolutions™ employees in the middle of a breakup and his plan for forcing them back together.

 

“...so that’s why we cut the power,” Heechul finishes. “Except someone told me the wrong switch to pull, and...well, I’m sure you’ve been told enough times what happened.”

 

“You have no idea.” Leeteuk massages his temple with his fingers, feeling another headache coming on. “If you really think it’s that important, I won’t stop you. Yet. But hurry up and be done with it, for all our sakes; you won’t get a second chance if something like this happens again.”

 

“Yes, sir.”

 

Leeteuk walks out the meeting not sure if he’s made things better or worse.

 

~*~

 

Heechul paces the IT office, chewing his thumbnail. If their next move isn’t executed to perfection, isn’t careful and meticulous, Leeteuk can and probably will pull the plug on their operation. And Heechul refuses to have all this effort he could have put into lazing around be for nothing.

 

The others currently in on the plan ━Sungmin, Kangin, Ryeowook, and Henry━ along with the IT employees watch his progress, waiting for him to speak.

 

Except for Kyuhyun, who still hasn't forgiven Heechul for the previous incident.

 

“Since when did our office become a meeting spot for your shenanigans?”

 

“Please, like you were using it for anything other than gaming,” Heechul retorts, but he might have to revise that statement because he catches a glance of an open Word document on Yesung’s computer and isn’t that the same intro paragraph Heechul read in that email announcement last week…? (Later, when Heechul confronts him about it, Yesung will tell him, deadly serious, “Space cats. Think about it. Cats in space. With suits. Fighting rogue aliens and stealing their golden fish. Who wouldn't jump at a chance to write that?” Heechul doesn’t confront him again. Or get any sleep that night.)

 

“Then if I can’t kick all of you out, you can at least put your plan together and go,” Kyuhyun tells him, unenthusiastic but not denying the accusation.

 

Heechul flips his hair back behind his shoulders. “Fortunately for you, I’ve already done that. Sungmin?”

 

“Our next plan is inspired by my own personal experiences with Hyukjae. We’re going to trap both of them in the elevator together to force them to talk. Heechul thinks that if we can get to the elevator controls and seal the doors for about fifteen minutes, that should be enough time for them to get over themselves.”

 

“After the last power show?” Kyuhyun asks with a scoff. “My department will handle it, since all of you clearly don’t know what you’re doing. I’m not getting fired over something this ridiculous.”

 

Heechul shoots him a glare. “Fine. You and one of your lackeys can do it while Sungmin and I trick the lovebirds. You in?”

 

“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but...sure. Only because I never start something I don’t finish.”

 

Heechul always knew he had his underlings’ puppet strings wrapped around his finger.

 

Now he just needs Donghae and Hyukjae to cooperate.

 

~*~

 

Yesung follows behind Kyuhyun as they make their way to the elevator control room just past Marketing. It’s still a bit of a mystery to him how Kyuhyun got access to the room, but Yesung has learned not to ask those sort of questions.

 

They pause just before turning down the hallway, and watch through the glass walls as Heechul talks an unsuspecting Donghae out of the office (and hopefully onto the elevator).

 

“They’re leaving,” Kyuhyun says in a whisper. “Let’s go.”

 

Two steps is all the progress they make in sneaking forward before a figure moves in front of them, asking, “What are you guys doing?”

 

“Oh, Siwon. Hi.” Yesung tries to make it sound more friendly and less like his pet turtle just died. “We were just stretching our legs.”

 

But Siwon’s just too overly-friendly to let it go.

 

“Are you sure there’s nothing I can help with? It feels like forever since I’ve seen you two! I think the last time was…”

 

Yesung isn’t trying to be rude, but the other man’s words fade from his awareness as he watches Heechul and Donghae’s progress over Siwon’s shoulder. They’re close.

 

“...but back to my point. Can I help?”

 

“I think we’re okay,” Yesung starts, but it’s too late. With one eyebrow raised, Siwon turns to follow Yesung’s line of sight, and Heechul is still ushering Donghae with him, and this must be the end, and━

 

“Siwon!” Kyuhyun cuts in, the name sounding a bit too aggressive. Siwon turns back around with one eyebrow raised, and Kyuhyun just keeps talking. “Actually, I could really use your help. There’s this, um...email? Yeah, an important email I need to send, and I need someone to look over the wording.”

 

The smile on Kyuhyun’s face is horribly forced and awkward, and Yesung kind of wants to cringe just looking at it, but Siwon seems to buy it: his face lights up like the sun.

 

“Of course I can! All you ever have to do is ask~”

 

Yesung shoots him a weak thumbs-up, still keeping an eye on Heechul and Donghae in his peripheral, and Kyuhyun takes the opportunity to finish making the ultimate sacrifice.

 

“Come with me, then. It’s pulled up in IT.”

 

They thankfully start to leave. Kyuhyun gestures with a plethora of ‘discrete’ hand movements as they walk away, movements that Yesung is sure he thinks look pretty legit.

 

Yesung himself, of course, doesn’t have a clue what Kyuhyun just tried to tell him.

 

With the pair out of sight, he takes it upon himself to get to the elevator room. He unlatches the control box Kyuhyun had mentioned to him before with a click, examines the three color-coded wires inside, and...he can’t for the life of him remember which one he was supposed to cut.

 

“We have to do this correctly, got it?” he can vaguely remember Kyuhyun saying. “Cutting the right wire will keep the doors temporarily sealed until we open them again. Cutting the wrong one would...well, let’s just say it’s a bad idea.”

 

But which one was it? Which wire was he supposed to cut? Yesung closes his eyes, thinking back to Kyuhyun’s parting hand signals, the words he was mouthing…

 

Red. He’d definitely mouthed ‘red’. And if Yesung goes back further to their first conversation, he knows it was mentioned then, too.

 

Confident again, he pulls out the wire cutter Kyuhyun had slipped into his pocket and snips the red wire in two. Nothing terrible seems to happen: no lights flicker, no one screams, and Yesung waltzes out of the room with the knowledge that he’s done a wonderful job.

 

He is on it today.

 

~*~

 

Hyukjae taps his foot impatiently as the elevator brings him down from the 18th floor. He’s not complaining about the speed, exactly, but he is just about done with Sungmin and his plans.

 

Not only had the other man dragged Hyukjae up three floors to meet some 60-something-year-olds who didn’t even work for the same company (Sungmin insisted that Hyukjae needed to “be more social” now that he was single), but then he’d sent Hyukjae on ahead while he “took care of something for Leeteuk” and told Hyukjae to meet him in the lobby for what the latter assumes is more socialization.

    

Sungmin is lucky that Hyukjae is such a good friend, because at this point Hyukjae is convinced his day can’t get any worse.

 

Naturally, on the next ding! of the elevator on the 15th floor, Donghae gets on.

 

Their eyes meet briefly before they both immediately look away, and Hyukjae simultaneously wants to demand why Donghae is heading down in the first place and avoid conversation at all costs. His inner turmoil results in a ride that is both silent and incredibly awkward as they continue their descent.

 

Not that he gets a chance to make up his mind. They’re halfway between 7 and 6 when the elevator starts to screech with a terrible grating of metal on metal, shaking as it goes.

 

This is not how Hyukjae wants to die.

 

He resists the urge to scream along with the elevator brakes, does his best to keep his footing, and finally, finally, they stop moving.

 

It’s also at that very moment when Hyukjae realizes he and Donghae are clinging to each other for dear life, which is an even bigger boost for his ego (read: he is reconsidering wanting to crash and die). They quickly step away from each other, Hyukjae coughing awkwardly as he retreats to the other side of the elevator.

 

The floor display is out. Hyukjae only notices because the first thing Donghae tries is hitting the ‘door open’ button with a breakneck pace that becomes more and more frantic when it still refuses to work.

 

“I don’t think that’s going to work,” Hyukjae says carefully.

 

It seems to snap Donghae out of the silent war he’s waging with the control panel, at the very least. He steps back with a sigh and quick “sorry”.

 

“It’s okay,” Hyukjae mumbles back, and then after a few more awkward seconds, “So...what do we do now?”

 

“Do you have your phone?”

 

And Hyukjae thought he couldn't feel any more like an idiot. “No, Sungmin pulled me out of the office so fast that I forgot to bring it with me.”

 

Donghae nods silently to himself, like he’s accepted that fate has chosen today to screw him over. He takes a seat on the elevator floor, saying wearily, “Then I guess we’ll sit here and wait.”

 

Hyukjae hesitantly joins him on the floor, sitting against the opposite wall and wondering what people are supposed to do in this situation.

 

It’s too quiet.

 

“At least it can’t get any worse,” he tries to joke, and that’s when the lights switch off, replaced with the eerie glow of the emergency power.

 

Hyukjae actually facepalms.

 

~*~

 

Shindong’s not sure why Kyuhyun invited Siwon into their office in the first place, but he’s almost certain the other man is never going to leave. Kyuhyun’s expression gradually shifts from politely concealed distaste to wanting to shoot himself in the foot as he talks Siwon through the phrasing of an email to the boss (and really, since when does Kyuhyun a) need help or b) go to Siwon? Shindong is a bit lost).

 

But finally, finally, Siwon does leave, waving cheerily as he goes, and the office sinks into silence once again. Shindong waits for Kyuhyun to release his pent-up frustration in an angry outburst (he doesn’t dare call it a temper tantrum), but he doesn’t get the chance: Yesung walks in with a spring in his step and a smile on his face.

 

“You sure took your time,” Kyuhyun remarks, hardly looking up from his computer.

 

“I stopped for lunch on the way back. Had to celebrate somehow for successfully executing the plan,” Yesung says proudly. “I did exactly what I remembered you asking me to do: I only cut the red wire.”

 

Shindong watches as Kyuhyun’s fingers freeze in their current position to hover over the keyboard, as he slowly swivels in his seat to face their third team member.

 

When Kyuhyun speaks, it’s somewhere between a whisper and a scream. “I told you that was the one wire not to cut oh my god.”

 

Shindong really wishes he would have brought popcorn for this.

 

“Oh,” Yesung simply says.

 

Kyuhyun’s eye visibly twitches. He juts a hand out in Shindong’s direction, demanding in a monotone, “Give me one of those sugar-coated death circles,” and that’s when Shindong knows their Overlord has lost it.

 

He gingerly places one of the doughnuts in Kyuhyun’s waiting hand, and the dessert is nearly ripped in half as Kyuhyun takes a bite. The powdered sugar smeared across his face makes him seem even more crazed when he says, “We just lost all control of the elevator. It’s stuck shut.”

 

No one answers.

 

“Well,” Shindong finally says, just to break the silence. “.”

 

~*~

 

They’re still trapped.

 

Donghae can only sit still for so long in the steadily climbing heat before he can no longer ignore the itch to move. He stands and approaches the elevator doors, and it’s more annoyance than the belief it’ll actually work that drives him to bang on them in quick succession.

 

“Give up,” Hyukjae tells him with no life in his voice. “No one’s going to hear us.”

 

“Yeah, well as good as I know you are at giving up, I don’t need or want your input,” Donghae tells him, more aggressively than he intends.

 

It’s a low blow. Hyukjae falls silent, looking hurt. And maybe it was harsh, but Donghae’s feelings are still all over the place when he thinks of what they’d had. It’s easy to stick to lashing out at Hyukjae so he doesn’t do something stupid like forgive him.

 

Another minute goes by before Hyukjae speaks. “Have you considered the fact that you didn't even give me anything to give up on?” he asks, and that’s the last straw.

 

Donghae strides over to tower above Hyukjae’s sitting form, glaring daggers at him. “Bull. I gave you everything.”

 

“And I didn’t, huh?”

 

“Exactly. You never put in as much effort as I tried to.”

 

Hyukjae snaps. “Donghae, I forgot your birthday once, and you act like I stabbed you in the back!”

 

“If you’d paid more attention to me, maybe you wouldn’t have forgotten!”

 

Donghae is aware he’s acting like a child, but Hyukjae has this stupidly annoying ability to get under his skin.

 

Hyukjae’s voice drops threateningly. “Why don’t you say that to my face?”

 

That’s a challenge Donghae will take him up on. He kneels directly in front of Hyukjae. “If you’d paid more attention to me,” he repeats, enunciating each word in a voice that’s just as threatening. “Maybe you wouldn’t have forgotten.”

 

Hyukjae leans forward, glaring at him. “I can’t pay attention to anything but you, you idiot,” he hisses. “And you know it, too. Even when you’re not mine, I still can’t turn my eyes away. You’ve always had me wrapped around your goddamn pinky.”

 

“Prove it,” Donghae demands, a shiver running down his spine at their proximity.

 

They’re so, so close. It would be so easy for Donghae to close the small space between them, to seal his inevitable fate back into Hyukjae’s arms once and for all. So he does: he sees Hyukjae’s eyes flutter shut as they lean in towards each other, feels the ghost of a breath on his lips, and━

 

The elevator doors slide open abruptly, and they spring back, Donghae’s heart pumping a mile a minute.

 

The bright light momentarily blinds him, but then he can make out the forms of multiple policemen standing outside, looking at the pair with concern.

 

“Are you alright in there, gentlemen?” one policeman asks them.

 

“Yeah,” Donghae answers for them. “We’re...fine. Thanks for the rescue.”

 

He spots a handful of his coworkers behind the line of policemen, looking a bit more panicked than he would have expected, but he supposes they’re understandably worried about him.

 

(Donghae’s more than a little worried about himself.)

 

He throws one more glance Hyukjae’s way, and then he straightens his shirt, clears his throat, and walks out.

 

He can’t look Hyukjae in the eyes.

 

~*~

 

The first time Siwon finds out about the so-called ‘Operation EunHae’ is after it officially fails.

 

Leeteuk calls a meeting of everyone on the fifteenth floor sans Donghae and Hyukjae and informs them that their mission has to come to an end. Apparently the panic and subsequent call to the police after cutting power to the elevator weren’t exactly helping the company’s image.

 

Siwon personally thinks it’s a good thing their meddling is over, after all the trouble it’s made for everyone, but his coworkers disagree. Heechul is practically an empty shell, muttering about his “first big failure”, and the others are downcast as well, after thinking they were getting so close to victory.

 

Hyukjae has no idea what’s going on. Siwon finds out that much as they walk back together from the break room. He’s a little downcast himself, and still on the heartbroken side, but definitely not suspicious.

 

“I think it’s definitely a good idea for someone to be going back and forth between our departments,” Hyukjae is saying as they walk. “Maybe I can ask Sungmin to go over there once or twice a week.”

 

“I’m sure that would work,” Siwon agrees. He looks down to check the schedule attached to his clipboard, and swears he hears a muffled yelp followed by the sound of a door closing. “Would Tuesdays work for...Hyukjae?”

 

The other man is nowhere to be found.

 

Siwon looks over his shoulder, toward the end of the hallway, but there’s no one else there. With a shrug, he keeps walking, muttering to himself about his helpfulness never being appreciated.

 

Is he doing something wrong?

 

~*~

 

Hyukjae is innocently walking down the hallway with Siwon, minding his own business and only half paying attention, when he’s violently yanked into the supply closet.

 

“What the hell━?” he starts to ask, words mostly swallowed by the sound of the door slamming shut behind him, and that’s when he sees the face of his assailant.

 

A million thoughts run through Hyukjae’s mind in that moment, and so he breaks the silent standoff with a statement most profound.

 

“Donghae, what the .”

 

He’s distinctly aware of the space, or rather the lack of space between their bodies. The closet isn’t exactly meant for one person to stay in for an extended period of time, much less two, and that’s being made painfully obvious. If Donghae even breathes, Hyukjae can feel it brush across his face, fluttering his bangs. And is it just his imagination or are the other man’s pupils blown wider than usual?

 

(And should Hyukjae be as by this as he is?)

 

“Shut up can I kiss you?” Donghae asks all in a rush.

 

“Of course you can,” Hyukjae says without thinking, “But did you really have to━”

 

And suddenly he can’t speak because there’s another mouth pressed to his in a searing kiss, hands shoving him backwards into the nearest shelf. It’s pure instinct that drives Hyukjae to respond with just as much fervor; he doesn’t realize what he’s doing until Donghae lets out a gasp at the hand yanking on his hair.

 

The sound is enough to distract Hyukjae for the slightest moment, enough for him to realize that something about the other man is different than he remembers.

 

“Donghae...why do you smell like my cologne?” he questions, but Donghae just turns a shade of red that matches his puffy lips before he repeats “shut up” and silences Hyukjae with a hand down the front of his pants.

 

Hyukjae is convinced this is pretty much the best thing that’s ever happened to him.

 

The confused janitor who goes to get a broom from the semi-destroyed supply closet that evening disagrees.

 

~*~

 

Heechul is in mourning.

 

On any other day, he’d be waltzing through each department, trading jabs with a few brave souls and silently (or not) judging the rest. But that was before this foreign concept that had so recently been upon him: failure. Now he resigns himself to a corner of the Accounting office, stewing in his misery with Sungmin.

 

“How am I supposed to go on?” he wonders aloud. “I have two cats I have to support! They’ll starve if I don’t bring in a salary!”

 

“Heechul, you’re not getting fired.”

 

“I might as well be! It’s not as if the rest of the team is going to listen to me when I got them to this point in the first place. No, it’s all downhill from here...”

 

Sungmin opens his mouth to reply, but they both shut up as soon as they see Hyukjae walk back into the office, looking suspiciously cheery. Heechul finds himself abandoning his woe-is-me spiel to examine the other man with narrowed eyes.

 

Something is off.

 

“What’s got you in such a good mood?” Sungmin asks, clearly sharing Heechul’s thoughts.

 

“Oh, nothing,” Hyukjae lies, just as badly as he’s always done. There’s a permanent grin etched on his face. “Just another beautiful day in the world of accounting.”

 

Sungmin and Heechul exchange an unimpressed raise of the eyebrow, which the latter takes as his cue to further investigate. He leans closer and closer into Hyukjae’s personal space, eyebrows knitting together when he notices the scent practically radiating off of him.

 

Hyukjae must finally notice their close proximity, because he backs up, throwing the other man a weird look. “Heechul, what the hell?”

 

“You smell like your own cologne again. Why,” Heechul deadpans, and Hyukjae’s eyes flash with something for a moment before he answers.

 

“Umm I started wearing it again?”

 

Hyukjae should really read a book on this lying thing.

 

“Please. The only person who wears your cologne is your ex-boyfriend, because it reminds him of you. The only reason I know this is because I was the one who stole it for him when I saw how miserable he was after your breakup. The only conclusion━”

 

“He really did that?” Hyukjae says with a giddy smile, clearly in his own world.

 

Heechul kind of wants to throw up in his mouth, but he supposes having the two of them happy and functioning again was the whole point of his crusade in the first place. Which brings him back to his earlier conclusion, meaning…

 

He grabs Hyukjae’s wrist, raising it into the air with a victorious shout of “The lovebirds are back together!!” and practically yanking the other man out of his chair.

 

“Heechul, is it really necessary to tell everyone━”

 

“Yah! Listen when I’m talking to all of you!”

 

The demand isn’t even finished before the rest of the 15th floor employees start to stream out of their department offices and head for Accounting in a cacophony of applause and excited cheers. Heechul even spots a confused Donghae being pushed in the same direction by the rest of the Marketing team.

 

And speaking of confused...a very puzzled Hyukjae is currently pulling his wrist free from Heechul’s grip, eyeing the assembled crowd with bewilderment and moderate distrust.

 

“I...didn’t know you all cared so much?” he says after everyone crams into the space. Heechul thinks it’s cute in a sickening sort of way how Hyukjae keeps forcing down a dopey smile every second that he glances in Donghae’s direction.

 

“We're all just so happy for you,” Sungmin half-lies, putting a hand on Hyukjae’s shoulder. “It hasn’t been the same around here since you two broke up.”

 

Both Donghae and Hyukjae seem to buy it, and the group collectively breathes again.

 

And then Zhou Mi walks in.

 

“Sorry I’m late!” he apologizes. “I was at the front desk, but I just got Ryeowook’s text. I can’t believe your plan finally succeeded ━ I guess with so many of you involved, it had to turn out well!” A few of them send flailing gestures and silently mouthed words his way, but Zhou Mi either doesn’t notice their desperate attempts at shutting him up or doesn’t care. “The first idea with hacking emails was just terrible, and after you cut the elevator power I thought it was over for sure, but oh my gosh I am so happy it finally worked out!”

 

“What,” Hyukjae says flatly, and Heechul sees the same string of curses running through his mind reflected in the other employees’ faces.

 

And they’d thought Siwon was the one to worry about involving. Who had told Zhou Mi in the first━ wait. No, judging from Kyuhyun’s sheepish expression, Heechul knows the answer to that question. Damn it, when he’d told Kyuhyun to be nice, he hadn’t meant “spill all of our top secret plan”!

 

Hyukjae looks just about ready to explode into a rant, but thankfully for everyone there, Leeteuk chooses that moment to walk in. The room goes still as he walks up to the pair in the center of the room.

 

“So, you two are back together?” he asks. The dark circles under his eyes look even more pronounced.

 

Hyukjae’s mouth hangs open in a fairly good impression of a confused blowfish, so Donghae answers for the two of them with a hesitant “Yes?”

 

“Oh, thank god,” Leeteuk says after a rather loud sigh of relief. “It’s finally over...there will be quarter-end bonuses in your accounts the last day of the month. Just please never let this happen again.”

 

He walks out without another word, leaving Hyukjae ━and everyone else in the room━ stunned. Even Heechul isn’t quite sure if he believes what his eyes just witnessed.

 

And Donghae...Donghae starts to laugh. The others turn toward him but remain silent, and still the sound of his disbelief and happiness fill the air.

 

It’s terribly infectious, Heechul will admit. He isn’t alone when a smile rises to his face. In no time, the others all join in on the laughter. They’re laughing for different reasons: some from the sheer ridiculousness of the situation they’ve ended up in, some because it’s been so long since they’ve felt this kind of collective joy, some just for the hell of it.

 

“ it, we’re finishing early,” Heechul says as soon as the noise starts to die down. “Drinks are on me; let’s go before the boss says no!”

 

The ruckus that follows is just as brash and absurd as the last five minutes. And in the midst of that ruckus, all of them are more than just employees forced into relying on each other to get their paycheck. They’re friends celebrating a hard-fought victory (and for some, a couple finally getting to share their mutual infatuation with the world again). Who would have thought that this of all things would bring them together?

 

Donghae takes Hyukjae’s hand as they’re half-pushed, half-dragged out of the office with the others, and Hyukjae thinks he’ll never be able to feel anything but this sheer amount of love ever again.

 

Until a month later when Kyuhyun remotely changes the entire company’s desktop backgrounds to a hot pink ‘1 month of #eunhae!!1!’ complete with sparkling heart emoticons, and he feels his murderous impulses kicking back in.

 

At least it had been fun while it lasted.

~END~

 

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A/N: Thanks for reading! I'll be back in August with more SJ ^^