When Zhangjing got home that night, he noted that there was something off about Yanjun’s behavior for the entire afternoon. Nothing was too strange, but the man was just a bit more affectionate than usual (if that’s even possible). Feeling a bit exhausted after work, Zhangjing turned down Yanjun’s offer to treat him to dinner. In response, the younger man just smiled and said that he’d have to take him out another time, which is strange. Why would Yanjun offer to spend money on him when he didn’t have to? That wasn’t like him at all. Zhangjing was older, so usually it was his job to pay for the both of them if the situation called for it. “Whatever,” Zhangjing sighed to himself, changing in to his pajamas before crawling into bed. Yanjun would be back to normal by tomorrow.

The next day, Zhangjing shuffles through the main doors rubbing his eyes to try and rub the sleep from them. As he yawns and shakes his head to try and force himself awake, he can see the receptionist judge him out of the corner of his eye. Frowning, he maneuvers his body towards the elevator where he is accompanied by Zhu Zhengting. “Morning,” he greets the man with a curt nod, pushing the button for the third floor. Usually, he’d be a bit more friendly, but he hadn’t had his coffee yet and was already running low on fumes. Just as the doors are about to close, a palm slams between them and pries them open. Soon, a dimpled man is revealed, radiating off a refreshing aura towards the otherwise dreary elevator. “Hi~” Yanjun almost sings, seeming a bit too excited at the start of his work day. “Hi,” Zhangjing can’t help but smile, yet raises an eyebrow when his best friend decides to stand right beside him. Sure, it wasn’t the largest space, but three people didn’t really classify it as being full enough to warrant the invasion of personal space. They stop at the second floor and Zhangjing almost walks out before he realizes that this isn’t their stop. A woman steps inside and Zhangjing would have judged her for using the elevator to go up one floor, but her heels seem impossible to walk in so he lets it slide in his mind. Unfortunately, the addition of one other person somehow causes Yanjun to scoot even closer, practically pinning him against the wall. While Zhangjing, for obvious reasons, was uncomfortable and disgruntled, Yanjun appeared to be grinning (smirking?) like he had no issue with it. Oh well, the situation isn’t entirely bad. Yanjun at least smells good. Is he using a new cologne?

Once their ride finally comes to an end, the foursome exit the elevator. Zhangjing’s mood is instantly improved by the fact that he can now breathe properly. For some reason deciding to actually be a decent employee, Yanjun promptly grabs his hand and drags him over to clock in (Mr. Zhang always stresses the importance of punctuality in a workplace). After doing so, Zhangjing turns around and sees his life flash before his eyes as he almost runs straight into a giant Mu Ziyang. Thinking quickly, Yanjun grabs Zhangjing’s shoulder and pulls him close to his body, just barely acting in time to prevent a collision. “Oh my god,” Zhangjing holds his hand to his chest and spaces out a bit as he waits for his heart to calm down. When a few more seconds pass and Yanjun doesn’t let go of him, Zhangjing’s face flushes slightly and he steps away, letting out a slight cough.

For about an hour, nothing out of the ordinary happens. However, just as Zhangjing is about to finish an intense game of solitaire typing up an important document, Yanjun ushers him over to his cubicle. “What is it? I’m busy,” Zhangjing folds his arms over his chest and stands with a defiant look on his face. “I need help with the layout of this makeup ad. I think the text is in the wrong place and the kerning is all wonky,” Yanjun complains, resting his cheek against his palm and jutting out his lower lip. Zhangjing’s heart (for some reason), does a little flip upon seeing this and he quickly agrees to help. While finishing up their conversation, Zhangjing points out one of the models, “The brunette is pretty.” “Yeah, her eyes are really gorgeous,” Yanjun agrees, then glances to the side to inspect Zhangjing’s face, “They look like yours.” The man bats his eyelashes in what Zhangjing thinks is faux innocence. He can tell something is up, but can’t pinpoint exactly what it is. Either way, his cheeks heat up a little at the indirect compliment.

At around one, the duo shut off their monitors and get up from their desks to take their breaks. Usually, the younger of the two arrives in the breakroom a little later (their coworkers always wanted to talk to him about something which honestly made Zhangjing a bit jealous); however, this time Yanjun walks straight there with him.

The two are alone, which should make the situation more comfortable. Zhangjing didn’t typically like large groups of people since they tended to make him feel lonely, thought he wished for one now. Yanjun’s weird behavior had set him a bit on edge. Maybe he’ll feel better after some coffee? As he pours some into his mug (a gift Mr. Zhang had granted all of his employees at last year’s Christmas party), Zhangjing accidentally spills some on himself, burning his finger in the process. Yanjun swiftly jumps to his aid, grabbing his hand and leading it to the faucet where he runs some cool water over the skin. “Are you okay?” he inquires, seeming genuinely concerned. “Yeah, I’m fine. It just stings a little,” Zhangjing feels touched by Yanjun’s reaction, but that feeling would only last for so long.

Yanjun lifts Zhangjing’s finger to his lips and plants a gentle kiss. Zhangjing blushes and immediately pulls his hand away. “What are you doing?” he questions, cheeks starting to burn.

“I was trying to kiss it better,” Yanjun explains, a charming smile on his lips. That’s when Zhangjing notices. The amused glint in Yanjun’s eyes and the lip caught in between two rows of teeth, holding in a chuckle. Now he gets it. Yanjun is flirting with him to embarrass him. If Zhangjing falls for it, Yanjun will until the day he dies.

Zhangjing knows what he must do. He can’t let Yanjun win. And so, he simply pulls his finger away and started to clean up his spilt coffee with a roll of paper towels. “Eh, it didn’t really hurt that bad to begin with,” he shrugs, praying that the blush on his cheeks has dissipated by now. Yanjun was obviously a bit discouraged, judging by the frown on his lips.

The two eventually leave the counter to to sit down at the table. As soon as Zhangjing opens his lunch to start eating, Yanjun decided it would be a good idea to stick his chopsticks forward and grab his food. “Um? I never said I was sharing,” Zhangjing glared at the man. If he couldn’t protect his pride, he could at least protect his food. Suddenly, Zhangjing feels the food press against his lips. “I’m feeding you,” Yanjun explains, a serious look on his face, “Since you hurt your hand.” “I never asked for your help,” Zhangjing retorts, but accepts his fate. If he gets too worked up about it, then that would give Yanjun more fuel to . Despite his annoyance at the situation, Zhangjing’s heart skips a beat when Yanjun leans close to clean his lips with a napkin.

They are fortunately (unfortunately?) interrupted when Linong enters. “Am I interrupting something?” the intern questions, practically beaming (because when was he not?). “Uhhh, no,” Zhangjing pulls away, wanting to die. His cheeks are practically on fire at this point and he isn’t looking, but he knows Yanjun has a satisfied smirk on his face. “Okay cool, because I have something to talk to you guys about,” the sun Linong explains, looking eagerly between the two men as he sits down. He sends Zhangjing a knowing look, which makes him want to die even more. Why did he have to walk in at that specific moment?!

Trying desperately to come up with a way to make Linong leave, Zhangjing puts a hand on the back of the intern’s chair and says, “Hey, aren’t interns supposed to be standing?” Linong pouts at him and starts to get out of his seat, but Yanjun pulls him back down. “Come on Zhangjing, don’t be so mean. Why can’t he sit? It’s not like anyone else is here with us at the table,” Yanjun explains with a friendly arm around Linong’s shoulder. “Well, it looks like you guys were having a private moment, so I don’t mind leaving if you want-” He starts to stand once again, but Zhangjing is quick to stop him. “No! No we weren’t it’s okay!” He interjects, eyes growing wide, “Go ahead and say what you wanted to say…”

“Oh, um well so Xukun’s birthday is tomorrow and I was wondering what I should get him,” Linong explains, twiddling his thumbs as he rests his hands on the table. While Zhangjing wasn’t particularly found of Linong at the moment, this makes him smile along with Yanjun. “I mean, money is pretty easy. I’d just give him that,” Zhangjing suggests, now starting to eat his food on his own. “I want it to be more personal than that. If I give him money, then it might seem like I thought of his present last minute,” Linong groans, laying his face down on the table. “But aren’t you thinking of it last minute?” Yanjun pipes up, causing Linong to glare at him. “Why don’t you get him some flowers? That might be something he might not expect,” Zhangjing suggests, tilting his head in thought. “I mean I’d like to receive something like that. It’d be nice,” He says, then immediately regrets when he sees a glint in Yanjun’s eyes.

“Good idea!” Linong brightens up and pats Zhangjing’s back, “I’ll do that! Thank you Zhangjing!” The intern rises to his feet and heads for the door, leaving Zhangjing to suffer.