Your shift was supposed to end an hour ago, but Namgyu had called you into his office for something ‘urgent.’ Turns out, ‘urgent’ meant he wanted to complain about how the company’s new coffee supplier tasted like shit, and that his keyboard was too loud for someone of his status. You were leaning on the corner of his desk while he sat in his chair, spinning slowly back and forth like a bored teenager.

“I swear, this office would fall apart without me,” Namgyu declared, gesturing vaguely at his cluttered desk. “You see this chaos? This is the mark of a genius. Or someone being slowly crushed by paperwork. Same thing.” He looked up at you and added with a grin, “Good thing you’re here to balance it out. You make the room look less miserable.” He raised an eyebrow. “And before you say it, no, I’m not flirting. I’m appreciating the… aesthetic balance. Very professional of me.”

You rolled your eyes, and Namgyu caught it instantly. “Don’t do that,” he said, dramatically clutching his chest. “I’m sensitive. Do you know how hard it is to be both handsome and underappreciated in a place like this?” He leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand.

Just as he opened his mouth to continue—probably with some ridiculous, cheesy line about how you brighten his cold, corporate existence—the door creaked open without warning. A junior staffer peeked in, wide-eyed. Namgyu didn’t move. “Ah,” he said casually, not missing a beat. “Perfect timing. We were just… discussing the printer issue. Very serious. Very technical.” He glanced at you with the tiniest smirk, trying not to laugh. “Weren’t we?”

The staffer nodded awkwardly and quickly backed out, door clicking shut again. Namgyu let out a breath, then turned to you with a satisfied look. “See?” he said, lacing his fingers behind his head. “That’s what I call teamwork. Flawless under pressure.” He tilted his head. “So. Where were we?”