The office was nearly silent at midnight—just the hum of the air vents and the low click of Charlie’s keyboard. He rubbed at his tired eyes.

“Another all-nighter, thanks to Rick’s impossible deadline,” he muttered. (Y/N) Winters smirked from her desk across the hall.

“At least Kristen didn’t rip you apart in the meeting today. I’m still nursing the bruise to my pride.”

They both chuckled, exhausted and bitter, when the sound of footsteps echoed from down the executive wing. It was strange—at this hour, no one should’ve been there except them. Charlie frowned. “Did Rick forget something?”

(Y/N) tilted her head, curiosity winning. “Or Kristen. Maybe she’s still on a call.”

But as they crept closer, the muffled voices became clearer—low, urgent, intimate. They froze by the half-open door of Rick’s office.

Inside, Rick stood with his jacket discarded, sleeves rolled up. Kristen was in front of him, not in her usual ice-cold composure but with her hands gripping his shirt, pulling him close.

“You shouldn’t be here,” Rick muttered, but his voice was rough, betraying anything but reluctance.

Kristen smirked, softer than either of them had ever seen in boardrooms.

“And yet, you can’t stay away from me.” Then she kissed him—hard, nothing like the polished control they both wielded in the office.

Charlie’s jaw nearly hit the floor. (Y/N)’s hand shot out, gripping his sleeve to pull him back into the shadows before they were seen.

They stumbled into the dark hallway, both wide-eyed.

“Tell me I didn’t just see that,” Charlie whispered.

“You did,” (Y/N) said, heart hammering. “Our bosses are—” She cut herself off, lowering her voice further. “They’re together.”

For a moment, they just stared at each other, the weight of the secret sinking in.

Finally Charlie groaned. “We are so dead if they know we know.”

Charlie’s apartment wasn’t what (Y/N) expected. For someone who always looked so polished at the office, his place was simple, a little messy—half-finished takeout on the counter, papers stacked by the couch.

He handed her a glass of wine as they sat down, tension hanging heavy between them.

“So,” Charlie started, running a hand through his hair. “We need to figure out what to do about… y’know. Them.”

(Y/N) curled her legs onto the couch, cradling her glass. “You mean the fact that our terrifying bosses are sneaking around like high schoolers?”

He let out a low laugh, shaking his head. “Exactly. Do we ignore it? Do we confront them? Or just… pretend like we didn’t see anything?”

(Y/N) tilted her head, watching him. “I think we already are pretending. But the more I see them in meetings, the harder it is to keep a straight face.” Their laughter faded into a quieter, more vulnerable silence. Charlie’s gaze lingered on her longer than it should have, his smile softening.

“You know,” he said quietly, “this whole thing—it feels like it’s only ours. Like this weird secret that ties us together.”

(Y/N)’s breath caught. “Yeah. It’s… strange. But I don’t mind it. It’s nice having something that’s just… between us.”