three.

If anybody really thought that hiring cute student Hyukjae as an intern-assistant would miraculously change Donghae’s disastrous working routine, they were thoroughly mistaken.

Donghae highly suspects that this is what Siwon was secretly hoping for, when he pulled strings within the administration to have Hyukjae assigned as his personal intern. Maybe Siwon thought that interacting with his crush on a daily basis would reform Donghae suddenly. Maybe it’d have urged the latter to act at least a bit more professional in order to impress him. Or perhaps Siwon was desperate, and Hyukjae had been his last hope.

Donghae admits that he’s mildly impressed by Siwon’s optimism without fail. It’s also such wishful thinking that he kind of finds it funny. Because, really, he is not a man so easily swayed. Donghae is an unmoving individual who strongly believes in consistency. Changing his working habits now would be going against his very principles. If staying true to his values means continuing to be a lazy half of the time, then so be it.

Tough life that Donghae has, really.

He snorts at himself. It’s only in this kind of situation that he realizes how good he actually is at arguing. Finding reasons to excuse his infallible unprofessionalism has always been one of his top priorities. That is, right after sleeping and eating and becoming the best online player on Cloud Path.

If Donghae’s honest, he did seriously think about maybe making a small effort, just so that Hyukjae’s opinion of him doesn’t plummet too soon. It’s fated to happen someday of course, he’s not fooling himself, but there’s really no need to rush such things. The longer Hyukjae thinks that he’s a decent CEO, the better Donghae will feel about himself and his awful job. But then Donghae woke up this morning and it’s been cold and raining ever since. And it’s Monday, too. So honestly, the only effort that he’s willing to make today, is to drag himself out of bed.

Hopefully Donghae can achieve that before noon.

It is no easy task. It is one of the hardest that he’s ever had to accomplish, in fact. Donghae stares at the ceiling of his bedroom for a long moment. It’s dark and quiet in here, and if he closes his eyes long enough, he can almost convince himself that there’s nothing important out there, that there’s absolutely no need to leave the safety of his home. The mattress is soft, and the blankets are still warm around him, and the pillows are fluffy just like he prefers them. They’re a bit like clingy lovers that won’t let him go. But Donghae fights valiantly, the brave and strong-willed person that he is, struggling against the enticing remnants of the smoky fog that sleep left in its wake.

It’s a long time before Donghae gets up. He only creeps out of his bedroom an hour later, and it takes him another one and half to finally consider maybe going to work sometime this week. After a long shower and a lonely breakfast, Donghae is finally on the road, driving in the vague direction of the city center. Hopefully he won’t get lost today; the last time it happened, he missed an important meeting with investors. He didn’t feel quite so bad about it—quite the contrary, in fact—but Kyuhyun almost had his head on a spike the next day. Donghae supposes he probably should have asked Siwon for directions; instead he’d directly went home after only half an hour going around in circles. But then he’s not an idiot and if there was the slightest opportunity of not-working, he was definitely going to take it.

After driving into a traffic jam accidentally-on-purpose, Donghae finally parks his car somewhere near the company. It’s already bustling with activity by the time that he gets there. He steps in with the greatest reluctance known to man. The moment that he’s inside, it’s like getting struck in the stomach by a painful weight. It’s made of stress and anxiety, prompting him to feel slightly nauseous. , but Donghae wants to get the hell out of here right away. The lobby is crowded with employees and clients, and it’s like a suffocating black mass. It makes him feel like he’s being pressed down until he’s choking, like he’s out of breath, that walls are closing down on him. Donghae grimaces, then gulps tightly. All he needs to do, he tells himself, is to get to his office upstairs and it’ll all be fine. Hopefully.

He stalks along a wall towards the elevator to avoid the crowd. Some people notice him, intrigued and confused at his odd behavior. The more experienced employees throw him exasperated looks that scream, “God, there he goes again, acting all weird.” Donghae is rather proud that he’s managed to train his staff so well. It took almost five years but it was all very worth it in the end. Case in point, he reaches the elevator with minimal social disturbance. There was just this burly, too-loud man who tried to greet him with a vigorous shake of the hand, and Donghae almost punched him in the face out of panic.

Now it’s all good though, because he’s in the elevator and it’s empty and quiet. Donghae relaxes slightly. He’s not quite calm yet but it’s a bit easier to breathe, feels a bit less like he’s going to throw up from anxiety.

When Donghae gets to his floor, Secretary shoots him a disapproving glance over her newspapers. He gulps again, a little terrified. But then again, she terrifies him all the time so he’s almost used to it by now. Mumbling under his breath, he speed-walks into his office before she can find a way to make him feel guilty about going into work so late. Or worse—give him work to do.

As soon as he’s safely holed up inside his office, Donghae sighs in relief. He can feel all the stress and anxiety fade away from his harassed mind as he revels in the quietness. It’s dark and feels familiar here, reminds him a bit of his own bedroom that he left earlier this morning. Donghae tells himself, it’s going to be okay, it always becomes okay. He sits down heavily at his desk and then eyes his awaiting files for barely half a second. Nope, he thinks. Shrugging, Donghae spins his chair so that he’s facing the window instead of his desk, taking out his phone. Then he starts his customary game of Cloud Path.

It is Monday indeed; it’s almost comforting how things never seem to change.

*

There’s a soft knock at the door. Donghae barely looks up from his phone and mumbles something unintelligible that really means, “come in, whatever.” He thinks it’s probably just one of his friends who wants to give him his weekly lecture on responsibilities, and please will you come in to work on time at least once.

The door opens with a soft click. Donghae glances up distractedly, expecting to meet Siwon’s exasperation or maybe Kyuhyun’s irritated glare. Whichever, really.

But then. Then it’s actually Hyukjae who’s walking in the office, and—

Oh! Donghae startles as a blush blooms across his cheeks all of a sudden. He gasps in surprise.

It’s not quite that Donghae forgot about Hyukjae working as his intern, but rather that he hadn’t expected the abrupt want that’s hitting him. He braced himself for it much too late, and now there he is, trapped in a storm of his own infatuation. It strikes him from head to toe until he’s left all but breathless. Donghae groans a little. It’s like getting punched in the face by a reminder of his crush. And holy , it’s brutal. Then the swooning kicks in almost violently and suddenly he’s feeling terribly faint, because he’s just, so gone for Hyukjae, for this boy that he didn’t get to see for a whole weekend. Donghae grimaces slightly because if he’s honest, he sounds a little creepy even to himself. But soon enough he’s too busy trying to catch his breath and stay alive at the same time to really mind. It’s terribly embarrassing, really it is, and Donghae suspects that it’s going to be a daily occurrence from now on.

“Good morning, sir,” Hyukjae greets. He looks a bit out of breath and disheveled, as if he ran on his way to the office. Today, he’s wearing a dark blue jumper over a white shirt, and skinny denim jeans. Donghae’s not sure whether to mourn the loss of the blue suit or applaud the way that the jeans show off Hyukjae’s lean legs. 

He then bows down at Donghae but it’s so brief that the latter doesn’t have enough time to feel irritated about it. Instead, all he can focus on is the quiet “sir” and the way it makes warmth bloom all around his tummy. He rests a hand over his stomach in wonder.

“Err.” Donghae blinks owlishly. It’s only been a couple of days but it seems he’s already forgotten how to act normal and cool. Well, not that he’s often been cool in front of Hyukjae, or ever really, but he’d managed to become somewhat decent at least. Now it feels like he’s  all the way back to square one. “Um. Hi?”

“I’m sorry I’m a bit late,” Hyukjae says as he clears his throat apologetically. He’s a little flushed as he glances guiltily at a wall-clock. Donghae notes that he’s exactly four minutes later than himself. “You, uh. You weren’t here this morning when I came in so I went down to take a look around the other departments, and, um. I, I guess I got caught up in what I was doing, and, really, I’m so s—”

Donghae raises an eyebrow at Hyukjae. He’s slightly amused that Hyukjae’s trying so hard to apologize about his four minutes while he should have been in the office something like two hours ago.

“Oh, it’s fine really. There’s no need to be so sorry. I got here much later than you did, so honestly, if there’s anyone around here who should apologize, it’s probably me.” Then, with a shrug, he adds, “you don’t have to hang around here all morning waiting for me, you know. I’m probably going to be late every day anyway. If you’re not here when I get in the office and I need your help with something, I’ll just ask Secretary to call you.”

Damn, Donghae thinks. That almost sounded reasonable.

Hyukjae seems to agree because he nods slowly, looking a little dazed. “Okay,” he says.

Then he goes to sit at his new desk, which has been fitted perpendicularly to Donghae’s. It came in sometime last week, probably the same day that Donghae learned about having his own intern-assistant. He doesn’t remember when exactly; he was either rushing down to the cafeteria for a quick snack, or avoiding the strange people who brought in the desk. It’s a rather cheap piece of furniture, if he’s honest, especially when compared to the rest of his office’s fancy décor. The chair looks quite comfy, at least. Donghae wonders where they stored those furniture items.

Hyukjae looks immensely pleased to have his own space. There’s an excited little smile tugging insistently at the corners of his plump lips. Donghae stares for a long while, feeling slightly blinded by its sight, until he remembers that it’s probably bad manners. He clears his throat. Hyukjae then starts organizing his stuff around his desk with the enthusiasm of a child opening Christmas presents, humming softly under his breath. Soon enough, there are four of everything—pens and notebooks and post-it’s, and other little things. They’re all arranged in a strict system that Donghae can’t ever hope understanding. It looks a bit odd in the middle of the office’s terrible mess, like a classic painting lost among abstract artworks.

Donghae peers at four of Hyukjae’s colorful erasers in wonder. Then he looks down at his own bits of ruined erasers. There are three, which prompts him to grimace a little, before he discreetely hides them in a drawer. Hyukjae doesn’t seem to really like three’s.

They don’t speak much to each other afterwards. For a while, it’s just the sounds of raindrops hammering against the windows and Hyukjae pushing some papers around. Mostly it’s quiet. Donghae thinks it’s partly because he’s always been an awkward individual and still feels rather pissed-off about the whole yes there is a Monday every week business. But it’s quite possibly also because as much as Hyukjae can be cheeky and daring most of the time, he’s still an intern working directly under Donghae. It’d be stupid to accidentally cross a line when one’s internship mentor is a renowned CEO. Additionally, there’s a report that Donghae needs to fill in at the end of the program to assess his intern’s performance, so it’s really in Hyukjae’s best interest that he doesn’t fool around too much.

Donghae doesn’t mind that Hyukjae isn’t as forthcoming as he was last week. He understands that there’re his grades at stakes, and it’s also probably a little intimidating to hit on a CEO when there’s the factor of closely working with them for a period of time taken into consideration. Plus, if he’s honest, he’s rather glad that Hyukjae won’t try to flirt with him at every opportunity. Donghae’s feeling quite exhausted already, even if he hasn’t done much of his day yet, and really, constant flirting must surely become a bit annoying at some point. He kind of prefers it when it’s spontaneous anyway, when it’s a daring compliment, uttered out of nowhere and with that cheeky little smirk. All it takes for Donghae is a kind word offered when he least expects it, with that mischievous gleam shining within Hyukjae’s eyes, and he’s just, well, he’s just sold.

But Donghae also enjoys quietness, and he’s glad to see that Hyukjae does, too.

For a while, Hyukjae focuses on getting settled. Then he finally notices a stack of files that Donghae left on the floor next to his desk. They’re old company projects that either concluded positively or got cancelled. Donghae remembers vaguely about wanting to give Hyukjae the opportunity to learn something by himself, instead of holding his hand through it like a child—he wants to see if he’ll figure out the patterns that link all those files together.

Now Donghae can’t really tell anymore. Instead of trying to remember exactly, he starts another game of Cloud Path because why not. There’s still an hour before it’s reasonable enough to rush down to the cafeteria, and he’s determined to spend it productively.

Hyukjae reads through the files with a thoughtful frown. He sorts them into neat stacks—only two this time, Donghae notes distractedly—and labels them with a red-ink pen. Sometimes, he glances up from his papers at Donghae, especially when his game makes a particularly loud noise. He’d frown, perplexed, confused, and it’s obvious that he doesn’t understand why someone as important as Donghae isn’t working. Hyukjae wants to ask badly, as if curiosity itself is on the tip of his tongue. He doesn’t comment though, and Donghae’s too happy to ignore his not-questions.

*

Then Monday bleeds into a rather sunny Tuesday. Angry dark clouds have faded into a greyish-blue sky that reminds Donghae of the beach and salty wind. It’s stopped raining sometime last night, but the air is still humid outside and clings slightly to the skin. The weather seems more promising than yesterday though, which is always an improvement.

Donghae remembers that it’s on a day just like this one that he and his crew of ambitious friends decided to start their company. It’s a memory that’s full of joy and excitement, one that he cherishes dearly. It’s a precious picture that he keeps selfishly hidden somewhere at the back of his mind, all warm and golden. Sometimes he takes it out from his imaginary box of secrets, just for a quick reminder that he does care for his company.

Donghae spends a long time gazing out the window of his bedroom, reminiscing those better times. The colors of the sky look so soft that he wants to run a hand through the cotton-candy clouds. Then it’s almost ten o’clock, and a series of annoyed texts from Kyuhyun make his phone ping repeatedly. He has no choice but to get ready for work.

Today, Donghae comes into work an hour and a half late. That earns him a furious lecture from both his best friends, who came all the way up to his office just to have a go at him, as well as a disdainful sniff from Secretary. It’s like he’s not even worth more than that from her, which makes him smile in amusement. Donghae brushes off all their complaints with a helpless shrug, and then proceeds to hide in his office for his usual Morning Slump. It’s basically a lethargic lounging in his chair, boneless and comfortable. His morning then mostly consists of playing games on his phone, taking a long nap on his desk, and avoiding Secretary’s accusing glare. The stack of documents in his “more urgent to take care of, I hate my life” basket has literally doubled in size since yesterday, but he skillfully ignores it.

Hyukjae is obviously more productive than Donghae. Today he’s wearing a white t-shirt half-tucked into neat black jeans. Even simplicity makes his handsomeness shine, Donghae notes a little enviously. He glances down at his own clothes. It’s just black trousers and a blue-grey shirt, which he rolled the sleeves up to his elbows, while a pair of sunglasses is hooked on his collar. Once again, he has the uneasy feeling that he looks like an awkward uncle who showed up at a family dinner overdressed.

By lunchtime, Hyukjae’s already finished with half of his files. He reads through them one by one meticulously, writing down detailed notes in a separate notebook with observations and questions and comments. It’s tedious work, and Donghae gets headaches just thinking about it. He’s also rather amazed by this amount of dedication and effort. Hyukjae doesn’t seem to mind though, because every time he closes a file, he reaches for another one almost eagerly. Sometimes Hyukjae does get distracted from his work though, and that’s usually when he starts staring at Donghae.

Just like right now.

It’s a peering from the corners of his eyes that’s meant to be discreet, but Donghae always notices because Hyukjae then drums his fingers along the edge of his desk in a rhythmic tap-tap-tap-tap. He frowns, too, eyes narrowed in deep thoughts. It’s as if Donghae was an odd puzzle that he couldn’t solve. Frustration pursues his plump lips into an irritated pout, disgruntled as he is that he can’t ask whatever questions that he’s dying to ask, and that Donghae won’t tell.

Idly, Donghae wonders when Hyukjae is going to snap. He then considers taking another nap until lunchtime.

When Donghae goes back to his office after a two-o’clock coffee break, Hyukjae seems to have finished with his project files. The two stacks have now been sorted into six and put away on the floor, labelled with a general reason that summarizes why they’ve been accepted or rejected. Each has its own report with observations and a meticulous analysis.

Now Hyukjae has university books and his laptop opened on his desk instead of files. He’s writing lines and lines of tiny little words on Bristol papers, with a clever color and abbreviation key that he keeps in a corner just in case. When Donghae stops curiously in front of him, Hyukjae pauses in his scribbling and stares back in challenge. It looks like revision notes, Donghae muses in mild interest. He shrugs before going back to his path in the clouds.

Hyukjae grins.

*

Wednesday is trickier than the rest of the week. There’s an implicit consensus within the higher ranks of the company, which dictates that Donghae is to be left alone for the first few days of the week. There’s usually not much to do during that period anyway. But mostly, it’s because everybody knows that he wouldn’t comply even under duress anyway. Wednesday is exactly in the middle of their working week though, which is where their problems start. Donghae strongly believes that it should be his last day of calm and peace and as such, he should enjoy it doing absolutely nothing. The rest of his company think otherwise, stating that surely it’s about time that he starts to get some work done.

Therefore, Wednesday is usually when the company becomes a battleground. All rules are said to be allowed, and even encouraged, if it means that it’ll get their CEO picking up a file, any file. As a result, Donghae has to try his best to be smart and resourceful. He is fiercely determined to survive these tough times of misunderstanding.

In the morning, Donghae avoids Secretary. She has a load of work that she wants to dump on him, he just knows it, so he sneaks past her sharp vigilance to hide in his office. But then she finds out that he’s been hiding under his desk all this time, forcing him to change tactics.

Next, Donghae rushes down to Siwon’s floor to hide in his office, while his friend is actually looking for him around the rest of the building. It’s a clever plan, you have to admit. Then it’s Kyuhyun’s office in finances, except that he’s always been rather skilled at finding Donghae’s whereabouts. It’s only seventeen minutes before he’s barging inside the office, barking, “don’t move or I swear, Lee Donghae.” But thankfully enough, by the time that Kyuhyun has Donghae by the back of his shirt, it’s lunchtime and therefore a perfect opportunity to escape to the cafeteria.

Donghae slips back inside his office around three o’clock. He’s breathless and a little sweaty from all the running. Kyuhyun seems to have given up on his case while Siwon has a meeting with investors until late this afternoon; he should be safe for now.

Hyukjae is still in the office, settled at his own desk. He seems to be still busy revising. For the most part of the day, he’s ignored Donghae’s antics but this time he looks up, raising an