Work Text:
The mystery begins one dreary Monday morning.
Everyone is gathered in the office pantry for a mid-morning break, either fueling up on caffeine or avoiding work. Kun, fresh off a nine a.m. meeting with a particularly difficult client, has just taken his homemade burrito out of the microwave. He’s in the middle of fending off Hendery’s attempt to steal his breakfast when their latest hire, Yangyang, strolls in, whistling happily.
“Looks like someone had a good weekend,” Ten says, swirling his second cup of coffee that morning. Kun knows him well enough that he won’t stop being snippy until he’s had his fourth. “Which is more than I can say for some of us.”
Kun frowns. He’s ninety percent sure that the last bit is a thinly-veiled barb directed at him ‒ it might have something to do with the fact that he had declined Ten’s invitation to brunch last weekend? ‒ but he decides to save it for when they’re alone.
To everyone’s surprise, Yangyang blushes. “Oh. Is it that obvious?”
“Oh?” Chenle, who’d been yawning non-stop ever since they clocked in, immediately sits up straighter in his seat, like a shark who’s smelled blood. “Do tell.”
Yangyang glances around the room, surprised that someone wants to know more. When he sees that everyone is gazing at him attentively, his blush deepens, unused to the attention.
“Nah, it’s not a big deal,” Yangyang says, but the way he ducks his head, scuffing the toe of his leather Oxford against the tiled floor, suggests otherwise. “It’s just… I had a really good weekend with Renjun. That’s all.”
The name sounds vaguely familiar. Yangyang’s been here a month; he must have mentioned him before? Kun isn’t sure (he tends to block out all outside noise when working, something that Ten has taken advantage of multiple times), but he nods earnestly, even if he necessarily doesn’t know who Yangyang is talking about. Someone special, obviously. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees the others subtly turn towards each other.
Who’s Renjun? Chenle mouths. Sicheng and Hendery give twin shrugs.
“Aw,” Ten coos, oblivious to the silent conversation going on around him. “So what did you two do?”
“Nothing much. We put a movie on, cuddled in bed and he let me pet him. It was chill, you know?”
Dejun’s impressive eyebrows furrow. “He let you pet him?”
“Yeah,” Yangyang says. “He’s usually super touch-averse ‒ he used to, like, hiss at me when I tried to hug him or whatever ‒ but last Saturday I scratched this spot behind his ear, and I swear to god, guys, he practically purred.”
“Huh,” Sicheng says. “That sounds… nice?”
“It was,” Yangyang agrees, then perks up, like he’d just thought of something. “And he fell asleep in my lap, which was, like, progress! Like ‒ he must really like me to do that, right?”
Kun exchanges glances with Dejun. Judging by the bemused expression on his face, Dejun doesn’t know what to make of this Renjun, either.
“Uh,” Hendery bravely raises his hand, like they’re back in school. “Sorry, I must have missed the memo. Yangyang, is Renjun your ‒ ”
At that exact moment, the chorus to Cardi B’s WAP begins to blare. Yangyang pulls his phone out of his pocket and squints down at the screen. “Ah, shit, sorry guys. I have to take this. I’ll be right back!”
He leaves, phone pressed to his ear. The silence that follows lasts precisely as long as it takes for the door to the pantry to swing shut.
“So,” Hendery says after a beat. “We all agree that we can’t tell whether Renjun is Yangyang’s cat or boyfriend, right?”
“Oh, thank god.” Dejun dramatically flops back in his seat. “I thought it was just me.”
“Nah, Renjun is definitely human,” Chenle says. “What kind of crazy person would name a cat Renjun?”
“You literally named your dog ‘big head’,” Dejun points out.
“Um, okay, whatever you say, Robert Pattinson.”
“I told you, Bella isn’t named after the girl in the Twilight books, she’s ‒ ”
“He’s definitely Yangyang’s boyfriend,” Sicheng decides. “They put on a movie, right? You don’t watch a movie with your pets.”
“Speak for yourself,” Ten says. “I watch movies with Louis and Leon all the time. The whole no-touching thing? Totally a cat.”
“Wait, Ten,” Kun says, surprised. “You don’t know who Renjun is?”
Ten scoffs, and for the first time all morning, he looks directly at Kun. “Like you do?”
“You’re his direct supervisor!”
“And you’re the guy who interviewed and hired him!”
“Oh my god,” Chenle says, a diabolical grin starting to spread across his face. “Is this what I think it is?”
“Chenle, for the last time, Ten and I are not ‒ ”
“Oh, shut up, old man, I wasn’t talking about your weird ongoing mating ritual with Ten ‒ ” Kun sputters at that, spraying out a mouthful of burrito “ ‒ I was talking about how none of us know who, or what, Renjun is, which means ‒ ”
“Competition time!” Hendery booms.
Kun buries his head in his hands. God, not another silly competition.
For some absurd reason, his team is obsessed with them ‒ who can steal the most number of Doyoung’s print-outs without getting caught (Ten), what’s the longest they can go for without leaving their chairs (twelve hours and fourteen minutes, courtesy of Hendery and his questionable, but ultimately brilliant, idea of equipping his chair with skateboards), how many marshmallows they could fit in their mouths (Ten, again ‒ the man is nothing if not competitive)… Honestly, Kun has stopped counting at this point.
It has nothing to do with the fact that he’s kind of (very) terrible at these dumb games.
When Kun lifts his head up and tunes back into the conversation, everyone is already murmuring excitedly. Even Sicheng looks mildly interested.
“Ground rules?”
“One question per person per workday, which must be vague enough such that they could relate to a partner or pet,” Chenle says, the click of his phone keyboard audible as he types furiously on his Notes app. “And it goes without saying that we can’t ask him which Renjun is. Plus, no looking up or stalking Yangyang on social media.”
“How long will we be playing for?”
“Until someone gets conclusive evidence as to whether Renjun is Yangyang’s cat or boyfriend,” Chenle answers. “Also, no sabotaging the other players or undermining their strategies. I’m looking at you, Dejun.”
Dejun scowls. Before he can launch into what will surely be a long-winded defence of his past tactics, Hendery cuts him off.
“And what does the winner get?”
“Bragging rights, duh. What else do you want?”
“Ugh, that’s so boring,” Ten complains. “How about… Winner gets to fob off all their work to the losers?”
This finally prompts Kun, as the boss, to jump in. “Excuse me,” he says, lowering his burrito. “I’m literally sitting right here.”
“Okay, Mr. Literally-Sitting-Right-Here,” Ten says. “Who cares?”
“Um,” Kun says. “Me. I care.”
“Does it matter as long as the work gets done?”
“Actually, Ten, yes, yes it does. I wouldn’t want Chenle, for example, maintaining the shared drive which Dejun has so painstakingly put together and monitored. No offence, Chenle.”
“None taken,” Chenle smirks.
“Then don’t lose the competition, like you normally do,” Ten says, stepping closer. “Win.”
“I don’t intend to lose,” Kun says. He has to crane his neck to maintain eye contact with Ten. “Because I don’t intend to take part.”
There’s a series of boos from the rest of his teammates. “Spoilsport,” Sicheng groans. “You know we play as a team, or not at all.”
“I’m not a spoilsport!” Kun tries. “I just don’t think we should be poking around our colleague’s personal life with a game when you could just ask him who Renjun is!”
There’s another round of boos. Ten in particular looks singularly unimpressed. He leans down, right into Kun’s space, so much so that Kun is forced to lean back in his chair.
“Is that really the reason?” Ten asks, eyebrow arched. “Or are you just scared that you can’t figure it out before I can?”
The rest of the team, who have been avidly watching the exchange like it’s a particularly gripping tennis match, lets out a chorus of ooooohs. Anger, familiar and hot in the way only Ten can elicit, pulses somewhere in the vicinity of Kun’s diaphragm, and he feels a muscle leap in his jaw.
Ten, being Ten, notices. He moves just a fraction of an inch closer until they’re almost nose-to-nose. If Kun inhales deeply enough, he can smell Ten’s cologne ‒ Jo Malone, with notes of wood and juniper and a hint of cedar.
Kun knows, because he was the one who bought it for him.
“Admit it, you just don’t want to be beaten by me again,” Ten goads, and in spite of himself, Kun’s pulse leaps wildly beneath his shirt collar.
“Sorry!”
Kun and Ten spring apart at the sudden intrusion. When Kun peers around Ten’s lithe, Calvin Klein-clad body, he sees that Yangyang has returned to the pantry.
"So." Yangyang pockets his phone and looks around, smiling amiably. “What did I miss?”
Everyone’s head snaps nervously towards Kun. One word from him, and it’s game over.
Kun feels a little thrill at having the upper hand for once, and makes a show of taking a bite from his burrito. He chews slowly, keenly aware of everyone’s eye on him, and pretends to weigh his options even though he’d already decided what he was going to do the second Ten had taunted him.
“So, Yangyang,” Kun says once he swallows. “Tell us ‒ how long have you known Renjun?”
🐱
Chenle changed the subject to
“cat or boyfriend???”Chenle
he’s known him for 2 years and only NOW he allows him to pet him???
cat or boyfriend, that’s just sad
sorry not sorry
Ten (Work)
lol
Sicheng
LOL
Hendery
HAHAHAHAHAHAHA A 😂😂😂
Dejun
😭
You
Can we refrain from using the group chat for this dumb game, please?
Thank you.
You changed the subject to
“Work (without Yangyang)”Chenle changed the subject to
“cat or boyfriend???”Chenle
no ❤
🐱
It’s a sign that Sicheng desperately wants to win when, during lunch two days later, he slides into the seat next to Yangyang. “Hello,” he says without prompting. “How’s your burger?”
“Oh! Pretty good, it’s from the place next to the barbershop by the river. Have you tried ‒ ”
“Oh, yes, I know,” Sicheng says. “And while we’re on the subject, does Renjun like to be groomed by other people?”
They are not on the subject. They are so far from the subject that Kun would need to take a train, then a bus, and then walk for an hour to make the same leap of logic that Sicheng has.
Yangyang turns to Sicheng slowly, like he isn’t sure of what he’s just heard. “Eh?”
Sicheng’s answering smile is somehow both dazzling and unnerving at the same time. “Just answer the question, Yangyang.”
“Um.” Yangyang puts down his burger, as if he’s sensing a threat and needs both hands to defend himself. “I mean… I guess he does?”
The answer seems to neither satisfy nor disappoint Sicheng. “Great,” he says, then gracefully unfolds himself from his seat and flits away without another word.
Yangyang turns to Kun and Ten, the only other people at the table. “What was that about?”
“He’s weird, you’ll get used to him,” Ten says, waving a hand dismissively and nearly sending his salad flying. “But since we are on the subject ‒ how did you meet Renjun, again?”
“Oh!” Yangyang’s face lights up, the way it does whenever the subject of Renjun is brought up. “I was volunteering at an animal shelter back in university. He came in one day, all alone and looking so small, and, well...” Yangyang sighs dreamily, a faraway look on his face. “It was love at first sight.”
“Love at first sight?” Kun says dubiously.
“Small?” Ten echoes.
“Yeah,” Yangyang says, still looking hopelessly in love. “He’s tiny for his age.”
Kun scrunches up his face. Weird thing to say about a cat. Weirder thing to say about a human.
“So would you say that Renjun is… cute?”
“So cute!” Yangyang enthuses. “I would put him in my Chanel and carry him around all the time, if I could.”
A vein throbs in Kun's temple. Seriously. It’s like the universe is actively preventing them from gaining any knowledge as to which Renjun is ‒ Yangyang’s tiny boyfriend, or tinier cat.
“Aw, adorable,” Ten says, in a tone that is somehow simultaneously condescending and genuine. “And what do you and Renjun like to do together?”
Kun subtly steps on Ten’s foot under the table. “What are you doing? We’re limited to one question a day,” he whispers.
“And are you going to tell on me?” Ten hisses back, and, in retaliation, stomps on Kun’s foot.
Kun barely manages to stifle his pained groan. Across from him, an unsuspecting Yangyang taps his chin, humming thoughtfully. “Nothing much,” he says. “We kinda just laze around and nap. Oh! That reminds me ‒ Renjun just loves napping in the sun, so one time, I decided to haul the bed to the window, although in hindsight, that was a bad idea, cause the next day ‒ ”
“Oh, are we talking about Renjun?” Dejun chooses that exact moment to pop up, Subway sandwich in hand. “What’s your favourite thing about him? Tell us your favourite thing about him.”
Kun widens his eyes, trying to telepathically tell Dejun to chill the fuck out, but the damage is done. Yangyang giggles nervously. “Wow. Um. You guys are really interested in Renjun, huh?”
“Of course!” Ten says smoothly. He must kick Dejun under the table, too, because Dejun suddenly drops his sandwich and starts to writhe in silent pain. Kun sympathises. “We just want to know more about you, and he’s clearly a big part of your life. And, just so you know, there aren’t any secrets in our team. We know, like, everything about each other. So if you want to know anything, don’t be afraid to ask!”
“Anything?”
“Anything!”
“Oh.” Yangyang blinks innocently. “So is it okay if I ask what’s going on between you and Kun-ge?”
Kun chokes on his soup.
🐱
Chenle
btw, 🐏 told 🦖 that he loves it when renjun curls up with him at night and falls asleep on his chest
choose to interpret that information however u wish
ur welcome
Dejun
I KNEW YOU WERE EAVESDROPPING
GO GET YOUR OWN INTEL
😡😡😡
Sicheng
Are you seriously gatekeeping valuable information? Rude
Ten (Work)
Dude chill it’s just a game
Dejun
said the guy who hasn’t done any overtime for MONTHS
do you know what i would do with a week of no overtime!!!
Hendery
build your 800th lego set?
Chenle
cry urself to sleep?
You
Hopefully not sing karaoke alone AGAIN
Remember that time I bumped into you at K-Star
The owner said he’d never heard anyone sobbing that hard to Celine Dion
Dejun has left the group
Sicheng
LOL
🐱
“What do you think you’re doing?”
Kun jumps about a mile into the air. “Oh my god, Ten! You scared me!”
Ten looks as smug as hell, one side of his mouth curled up in a feline grin. The cut of his pinstriped suit and the stray lock of hair falling out of his tiny ponytail just makes the picture both better and worse.
Better, because it’s incredibly easy on Kun’s eyes, but also a million times worse, because now Kun has to actually expend effort to keep his wits about him.
“Me? Scare the unflappable Kun?” Ten peers around his shoulder. “As he’s ‒ oh my, are you poking around our newest subordinate’s desk? How interesting ‒ ”
“Shhhh!”
Kun grabs Ten’s arm and tugs until they’re both crouching behind Yangyang’s desk and hidden from view. On the other side of the divider separating their cubicles, Hendery continues humming to the tune of an old Cantonese ballad, oblivious to the presence of both of his bosses, who are currently doing their best impression of old-timey criminals.
“Oh,” Ten grins, even though his suit is probably horribly wrinkled now. “So you were snooping around Yangyang’s desk. Whatever for?”
“Ugh, you know what for.”
“Damn,” Ten says, still looking like the cat that got the cream. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so serious about one of our competitions. And isn’t this kind of against the rules?”
“The rules never said anything about casually stopping in at Yangyang’s desk to look over his stuff, personal or otherwise, while he was away,” Kun says primly. “I checked.”
This seems to impress Ten. “You’ve really thought this through, huh? I think I like competitive Kun.”
He emphasises his point by playfully poking Kun in the chest, right above the breast pocket of his shirt. A frisson of something courses through Kun, and it feels like all the air has been sucked out of the room. In an effort to put some distance between them, and to avoid death by suffocation, Kun clears his throat and scoots backwards. He peers around the edge of the cubicle on the pretext of checking whether the coast is clear.
It is. “Look,” Kun says, turning back to Ten once he’s got his head back on straight. “Since you’re already here, help me find something that tells us who Renjun is. I heard Yangyang is at a meeting, so I don’t know how long we have ‒ ”
“Ten minutes,” Ten answers promptly.
Kun stares.
“What?” Ten tucks the errant lock of hair behind his ear. “Who do you think sent him to that meeting in the first place?”
With a wink, he hauls himself up onto the vacant chair and starts to rifle through the things on Yangyang’s desk. Kun, stunned, takes a second or two to process that, and by the time he pulls himself up from the floor, Ten has already logged onto Yangyang’s laptop.
“Ten,” Kun says, strangled. “How ‒ ”
“His password was ‘Renjun’,” Ten says, pre-emptive as always and tapping away at the keys. “Isn’t that sweet? A risk from a cybersecurity perspective, for sure, but! So sweet!”
Kun remains silently flabbergasted as the familiar chime of Outlook opening sounds. Ten tuts at Yangyang’s poor email organisation and proceeds to empty all of his junk mail and arrange his folders in alphabetical order. After helpfully flagging out a couple of emails needing Yangyang’s action, Ten finally turns his attention to the investigation.
The search From: Renjun turns out to be a bust. Neither is there anything to Renjun, or containing the name, in Yangyang’s sent and delivered items.
But then Ten clicks into Yangyang’s calendar, and scheduled two weeks from today is a prominent blocked-off section that reads Take Renjun to animal shelter.
Kun stabs a finger at the screen, triumphant. “Bingo!” he whisper-cheers. “That settles it. Renjun has to be a cat!”
He busies himself with his phone, snapping a picture of the appointment for proof to back up his case. It’s only when he’s stuffed his phone back into his pocket that he notices Ten is staring at the screen, stricken.
“Oh my god. Kun ‒ do you think he might be abandoning Renjun?”
Oh. Kun hadn’t thought of that. “What? No! I’m sure there’s a reasonable explanation for it ‒ ”
“Is there? You don’t just take an animal to the shelter!”
“Maybe Renjun’s there to make friends?” Kun suggests. “Get him socialised? I don’t know, I’m not the one with cats, you are.”
Ten isn’t listening, off on his own imaginary frolic of potential cats being carted off to the shelter. “Oh, poor Renjun,” he says tearfully. “Do you think Yangyang would really do that? I thought he loved him!”
It’s too much. The sight of Ten’s eyes, glistening in the fluorescent lighting, coupled with how heartbroken he sounds, prompts Kun to slide down on his knees beside him.
“Let’s not jump to conclusions, alright?” he soothes. “It could be for lots of reasons we don’t know.”
Ten sniffs. His nasal passages sound clogged. “Well, if he is abandoning Renjun, I’m going to adopt him.” He pauses. “Wait ‒ I’ll beat the shit out of Yangyang first, and then I’ll adopt Renjun.”
A laugh bubbles out of Kun's chest; at the same time, his heart swells. Ten's so ridiculous (ridiculously compassionate, that is), but Kun can't deny that it's one of the things he likes ‒ loves ‒ most about him.
“And he’ll be so lucky to have you," Kun says, meaning it.
Ten's lip wobbles at that ‒ it could be a laugh or a sob, but it makes Kun's heart twinge either way. As if guided by some mysterious force, he finds himself reaching up to turn Ten’s face towards him. Ten looks at him, eyes bright with surprise. His cheek is hot in Kun's palm.
“But Ten," Kun says, voice suddenly, for reasons unknown, hoarse and low. "You have to promise me that you won’t ‒ ”
“What are you guys doing?”
For the second time that day, Kun jumps. Unfortunately, he doesn’t escape bodily harm this time ‒ he forgets that he’s kneeling, and bangs his shoulder against the edge of Yangyang’s desk. Pain immediately shoots through the length of his arm, and a string of curses leaves his mouth. Ten shrieks, startled, and scoots away from Kun instinctively, but one of the wheels of the desk chair catches on Kun’s knee.
And then, in an act that can only be described as extremely unfortunate, Kun overbalances and promptly falls forward into Ten’s lap.
When Kun finally manages to lift his burning face from Ten’s crotch, it’s to find Sicheng staring impassively down at him.
“Sicheng!” Kun scrambles to stand up. “Um. Hi!”
Sicheng does not immediately respond. His gaze roves over Kun’s dusty knees, then Ten’s seated position, eventually falling on Yangyang’s computer, his calendar still showing on-screen. For a heartstopping moment, Kun thinks Sicheng’s about to chew them out for sneaking around Yangyang’s desk and playing fast and loose with the game rules.
But then a smile, small but delighted, breaks out over Sicheng’s face.
“Oh. Were you guys ‒ ?”
And then, to Kun’s abject horror, Sicheng mimes fisting a dick and sticks his tongue in his cheek.
“No!” Kun cries, prompting Hendery to poke his headphone-clad head out from the neighbouring cubicle. “Oh my god, Sicheng, we can explain ‒ ”
“Nope! Don’t want to hear it!” Sicheng turns away, gleefully whipping out his phone and probably already texting half of their floor. “You two carry on!”
🐱
Chenle
damn, kun-ge!!!!!
get it!!!!
👅🍆💦
You
NO
NO ONE IS GETTING IT
🐱
“Yeah, Renjun’s really into gifts,” Yangyang tells Kun and Chenle as they head back into the changing rooms post-interdepartmental basketball game. “He brought me this dead bird recently, and it was so gross, but like, I couldn’t just throw it away, you know?”
That’s Chenle’s daily allotted question answered. Kun nods in acknowledgement and takes a pull from his Hydro Flask, too exhausted to do anything else. He had been relegated to blocking Jaehyun as Yangyang and Chenle ran rings around the rest of the Marketing guys, which turned out to be more of a feat than what was advertised ‒ like, the guy could run. And was also not above bodily throwing himself at Kun and plastering him to the floor when he got frustrated, which was surely a violation of the rules. Now, parts of his body he hadn’t known even existed ache. Who knew that Jaehyun would be so competitive?
“Dude, I’m so glad you joined us,” Chenle says, clapping Yangyang on the shoulder as he passes him by to get to his locker. “Nobody else on this team is remotely good at basketball.”
Shotaro from Customer Relations pops out from the next row of lockers, frowning. “Hey!”
“Nobody except me and Taro,” Chenle amends quickly. He turns, teeth flashing, and Kun braces himself for the inevitable jibe. “In fact, I’m surprised Kun-ge isn’t keeled over right now.”
“Haha,” Kun says tonelessly. “You know we need five people on the court, otherwise we don’t get to play. Although I don’t know if I want to play again if you’re just going to yell at me every time I miss a pass.”
Chenle throws his hands up. “I told you to go right!”
“I did!”
“I meant my right!”
“And how was I supposed to know that?”
“Alright, alright. We get it, Kun-ge is directionally challenged,” Yangyang says, throwing his towel aside and reaching into his locker for some clean clothes. “Anyway, is anyone else super hungry right now? Cause, like, I could do with Korean barbecue, or a steak, if you guys ‒ ”
Yangyang tugs at the hem of his basketball jersey and lifts it, the rest of his sentence becoming muffled. He gets caught in the damp fabric, and as he tries to get unstuck and shimmy his way out of it, that’s when Kun sees it.
Marring the pale expanse of Yangyang’s back, particularly around his shoulders, are several long, red scratches.
Kun yelps involuntarily. “Oh my god, Yangyang, your back!”
“What ‒ ” Yangyang emerges from his jersey, hair a mess, and turns to look in the locker mirror. He groans when he catches sight of his back. “Oh, shit. Shit, I didn’t notice that.”
Chenle’s eyes are practically bugging out of his head. “How is that possible? Did you get dressed in the dark today, or something?”
“Oh, c’mon,” Yangyang says, poking gingerly at the scratches. “They’re not that bad.”
“Dude, you look like you got fucking mauled!”
“Well,” Yangyang huffs. “I’m sure Renjun didn’t mean to ‒ ”
He stops abruptly, turning a brilliant shade of pink, but it's too late. Both Kun and Chenle notice immediately.
“Oh my god,” Kun says, mildly horrified. He knew cats could lash out, but this ‒ ! “Are you telling me that Renjun did that?”
“I mean…” Yangyang gulps. “Yes, but it isn’t his fault! He can be a little rough, that’s all.”
That might be the understatement of the year. Kun only realises his jaw is hanging open after Yangyang turns away, still blushing furiously, and pulls on a clean top, the scratches disappearing beneath the black fabric. Kun closes his mouth with a sharp click and occupies himself with changing out of his sweaty clothes. By the time he’s all done, Yangyang's blush is fading, but he’s determinedly not looking in either Kun’s or Chenle’s direction.
Kun can sense the discomfort radiating off Yangyang in waves, and is more than happy to forget what he’s seen. Unfortunately for them, though, Chenle was either born without or refuses to employ his in-built social cues radar, and is a dog with a bone who just won't let go.
“Damn, Yangyang,” Chenle says. “Seriously, what are you doing? Raising a tiger at home?”
For some reason, Yangyang chokes. “How did you know that I call Renjun ‒ um. No, no tigers at home.”
“Are you sure you don’t wanna get those scratches checked out?” A look of grave concern has overtaken Chenle’s face. “They look pretty bad. I have a doctor friend who can do rabies shots. Wait, can you get rabies from scratches?”
Kun has no idea, but if he were to guess, Yangyang doesn’t particularly care. He’s looking more and more like a cross between a cornered animal and someone who wishes they could be anywhere else but here.
“Hey, Siri,” Chenle speaks into his phone, utterly oblivious. “Can you get rabies from scratches, or ‒ ”
“Oh!” Yangyang cuts Chenle off. “Someone’s calling!”
He picks up his phone, which Kun knows died on their way to the basketball game, and pretends to answer a call. “Hello? Yes, this is he ‒ oh, is that right?” Yangyang’s face drops into what he probably assumes is a believable expression of horror, but it just looks like he has severe constipation. “An emergency? And I need to come home immediately? Right now? Yes, yes, I’m on my way ‒ ”
He practically flees from the changing room with nary a glance at Kun or Chenle, and, in his haste, leaves his gym stuff behind. Great. Kun sighs, throws an unnoticed glare at Chenle, and takes it upon himself to heave Yangyang’s bag onto his shoulder. He’ll have to return it to him at the office tomorrow.
“Oh no,” Kun hears Chenle gasp as Siri’s soothing voice reads the results of his Google search aloud. “You can! Yangyang! Yangyang, wait up ‒ !”
🐱
Chenle
[image attached]
cat
i’m calling it
i win
one week of no work, here i come :D
You
This is a SFW chat!!!
And how did you even manage to snap that photo???
Chenle
with quick reflexes
something u clearly do not have
You
(╯▔皿▔)╯
Dejun
WHAT am i looking at??
is that… our colleague’s back?Hendery
omg no way a human did that…
Sicheng
Guys
A little content warning would be useful the next timeTen (Work)
Seconded.
🐱
After that, no one really disputes that Renjun must be a cat, and Chenle immediately claims his prize, leaving Kun to fend off his own calls and staple his own papers for a week straight. He even has to help organise the office Halloween costume party sans secretarial help, and is so frazzled that he just grunts in assent when Yangyang asks if he can bring Renjun to the party. It doesn’t occur to Kun until much later to question why Yangyang would want to bring his pet cat to the office shindig, and by that time he’s dealing with yet another figurative fire Chenle’s so kindly left for him to put out, so he forgets all about it.
That is, until Yangyang attends the office Halloween costume party, towing a short man behind him dressed in a sleek spandex bodysuit and cat ears.
“Hello,” the catboy says politely. “It’s so nice to meet you.”
Kun shakes his offered hand, confused. “Uh, hi. Yangyang, I thought you were bringing Renjun?”
“I did,” Yangyang says, his Kaneki Ken mask slightly muffling his words.
“Oh?” Kun cranes his head and stands on his tippy-toes, looking around for a stray cat. Damn ‒ it had better not pee in here. The carpets are old, extremely absorbent, and also somehow resistant to every cleaning agent they’ve tried. “So where is he?”
Yangyang throws him a weird look with the one eye that isn’t covered. “Uh, here, dude.”
“Really? Cause I don’t see ‒ ”
“Um,” catboy says. “I’m Renjun.”
Kun freezes. He slowly lowers himself back down to the ground, ignoring the way his calves burn, and turns towards the catboy.
“Wait. You’re Renjun?”
“Yes,” Renjun says. “Hello.”
And then, slightly awkward, he raises a hand and waves.
Kun stares, nonplussed. Wow. Yangyang wasn’t kidding ‒ his hands are tiny.
“Oh, hold up, what?” Ten appears out of thin air behind them, reeking of alcohol, and snakes one arm around Kun’s shoulders. “You’re Renjun?”
Oh, god, he’s already drunk, isn’t he? And messing up Kun’s Kaonashi costume, which he worked really hard on. Kun subtly tries to wriggle out of his grip, but Ten’s hold just tightens, so he gives up. Renjun looks on with raised eyebrows, but Kun thinks he might just be quietly amused.
“Yes, I am,” Renjun says. “Why? What has Yangyang been saying about me?”
“Oh, god, nothing bad!” Ten flaps his free hand and drapes himself even more over Kun’s body. “He’s totally obsessed with you. Talks about you all the time. Maybe a little too much, if I’m being honest.”
Renjun laughs and glances at Yangyang shyly. “Oh, really? That’s ‒ ”
“It’s just that,” Ten continues blithely. “You know, we all thought you were his cat!”
That brings the conversation screeching to an abrupt halt.
“I’m sorry?” Renjun says delicately at the same time Yangyang goes, “What the fuck?”
“Hilarious, right?” Ten giggles, and Kun knows he’s going to be of zero help.
“Um,” Kun says, attempting to salvage the situation as three accusatory eyes turn towards him. “The thing is, all the stuff you told us about Renjun ‒ it was just kind of hard to tell, you know?”
Based on the small, uncovered section of his face, Yangyang looks mad as hell. “‘Hard to tell’? How?”
“I don’t know, Yangyang. Maybe because you literally told us that he let you pet him? And that he purred?”
“You told them that?” Renjun asks, scandalised.
“It was just in passing, babe,” Yangyang reassures Renjun. To Kun, he frowns, indignant. “Hey, don’t shame people for their weird kinks!”
“Yangyang!”
“Shhh, babe, I’ve got this.”
“Okay,” Kun says. “Then what about the dead bird he brought you?”
“Easy,” Yangyang says. “He does taxidermy as a hobby.”
Kun throws Renjun a funny look. “Seriously?”
“If you must know, I happen to find it calming,” Renjun says defensively.
Weird. Understandable, but weird.
“Hey,” Ten says, lifting his head from Kun’s shoulder and jabbing a finger at Yangyang. Or rather, he tries to ‒ he ends up pointing at the air over Renjun’s shoulder instead. “Don’t come after Kun, he drew perfectly reasonable conclusions. You said you met Renjun at the animal shelter! And ‒ and you were going to bring him back there! To abandon him!”
“Oh my god,” Yangyang groans. “Renjun’s a vet, you morons. He volunteers at the SPCA every two weeks. That’s how we met in the first place.” He pauses, cottoning on. “Hang on ‒ how did you know that? Did you guys go through my Outlook calendar?”
Kun ignores him in favour of sharing a perplexed look with Ten. Kun knows that they’re both thinking the exact same thing, which is: huh. Who would’ve thought?
Yangyang makes a frustrated noise. “I mean, seriously! I told you that it was love at first sight! How more obvious could I have been?”
“Wait.” Renjun turns to Yangyang. “You said that?”
“’Course I did,” Yangyang says indignantly. “It’s the truth!”
Renjun blinks. “I didn’t know that.”
Yangyang’s costume might be covering almost all of his face, but Kun sees the way the back of his neck flushes. “Huh.” Yangyang clears his throat, flustered, and tugs at the edges of his face mask. “Well, I guess now you do.”
Upon hearing that admission, Renjun’s expression grows impossibly soft and fond. He reaches out to take Yangyang’s hand, their fingers interlocking, and the motion is so tender that, even though they’re in a public space, Kun feels like he’s the one who’s intruding.
“It was a pleasure meeting you both,” Renjun tells Kun and Ten, never tearing his eyes away from Yangyang’s face. “But I think I left something in the copier room. Yangyang, can you lead the way?”
“Copier room? We didn’t even go to the ‒ oh! Oh, right, it’s right over here ‒ ”
Kun watches Yangyang and Renjun thead their way through the crowd, eventually disappearing from sight. Next to him, Ten smiles dopily after them. “They’re sweet, aren’t they?”
“They’re going to fuck in the copier room,” Kun says.
“Eh,” Ten shrugs. “Still sweet.”
Kun would beg to differ. He just hopes that Yangyang and Renjun don’t leave anything for Doyoung to find when he inevitably goes to print something on Monday morning.
He's already anticipating the reports he'll have to make to HR if anyone walks into the copier room in the next half an hour when Ten leans his head on his shoulder. The strands of Ten's hair tickle his neck, and send more fire licking up his skin than the whiskey he had earlier.
"Kun," Ten sighs, and it comes out wistful. “Don’t you wish we could be more like that?”
Kun tenses. “What?”
Ten sighs again, this time with more gusto. “Oh, c’mon, Kun-ge.”
With a surprising amount of strength, he lays his hands on Kun’s shoulders and spins him round. Kun is forced to look directly at Ten, who appears startlingly sober for someone who had downed five shots by the time Kun had walked into the party.
“Don’t act all obtuse,” Ten says. “We’ve been dancing around each other for ages.”
Kun’s brain short-circuits. Are they really doing this here? Now? “Sorry, I ‒ ”
“You know I like you. And I know you like me.” Ten jerks a thumb over his shoulder. “We could have what those dummies in the copier room have, if only we were as open with each other as they are.”
Those are all facts. Kun is perceptive enough to know that something has been brewing between them for months; years, maybe. But no matter how he looked at it, there were always roadblocks, things holding him back: the long hours at work. The complications of dating a coworker. And most of all, the fear that Ten ‒ gorgeous, talented, capricious Ten ‒ would quickly grow bored of him and move on.
But that same Ten is standing before him, in the middle of their workplace and dressed as some anime character Kun doesn’t know the name of, wearing his heart on his sleeve openly for the world to see. For Kun to see.
“So,” Ten continues, and it might be the bravest thing he’s ever done. “I just want to know ‒ what exactly is stopping you from reaching out and taking what is already yours?”
Himself, Kun realises. Just him, and all the stupid, unnecessary walls he’s built in his head.
Which come crumbling down the instant he pulls Ten in by the waist, and crashes their lips together.
Ten tastes like tequila and lime and salt. He tastes like bad decisions and good ones and the best one Kun could ever make. He tastes like a long time coming, and Kun feels like if Ten holds him any tighter, he might burst from pure euphoria.
They pull apart to the sounds of wolf-whistles and scattered applause. Somewhere in the crowd, Hendery is cheering drunkenly. A flash goes off, obnoxious and blinding, most likely Chenle taking what will probably become blackmail photos.
But through it all, Kun only has eyes for Ten. Ten, who presses his fingers to his lips like he can’t quite believe what happened. “Did you just ‒ ”
“Don’t tell me you’re complaining now,” Kun teases. God, when was the last time he smiled this hard? “Not when I ‒ how did you put it ‒ reached out to take what was already mine.”
“Nope.” Ten shakes his head vigorously. “No complaints. None at all. Except…”
He hesitates. Kun cocks his head. “Except?”
“Except,” Ten says, and for the first time since Kun’s known him, he sounds almost shy. “Do you… Do you wanna get out of here, maybe?”
This is when Kun realises: yes. Not because he's sick of the party already, but because whatever Ten wants, he'll give. Whatever Ten asks, he'll say yes. And wherever Ten goes, he’ll most probably follow.
“Lead the way,” Kun says, cheeks dimpling with the force of his smile, and then, unheeding of all the people around them, he dives in for another searing kiss.
🐱
Yangyang
i can’t believe you guys thought that renjun was a CAT hahahaha
you could’ve just asked!You
That’s what I said!!!
Ten (Work)
Now where’s the fun in that? 😁Chenle
lol in our defence it was unclearSicheng
Extremely unclear.Dejun
your boyfriend even showed up as a cat to the halloween party! 🤷🏻Hendery
one thing that still bugs me, though
how did renjun cause those scratches on your back
and you let him…?
like
what kind of person just DOES THAT
um
i can see you guys have read my messages
why is no one replying me
hello?
hello??Unread messages
Hendery
oh my god
wait
is it a sex thing
IS IT A SEX THING????