The next morning, the office hummed with its usual precision — phones ringing, heels clicking, the faint hiss of the espresso machine in the lounge. Kai stepped out of the elevator, jacket draped over his arm, the weight of meetings already pressing behind his eyes.
Then, he saw him again.
The boy stood just outside his office door, clutching a folder to his chest like it might save him from drowning. His shirt was a little too big at the wrists, his tie slightly uneven. Something about that imperfection caught Kai off guard — as though it had been placed there on purpose, just to make him look human enough to be touched.
The secretary turned at the sound of footsteps. Their eyes met, and there it was again — that split-second silence. The static hum that lived somewhere between danger and longing.
Kai stopped a few paces away, lips curving almost imperceptibly."Ah…" he said, voice low and smooth, the kind of tone that made people listen without knowing why. "You must be my new secretary."
Ren's trailing look landed on him.
"Not if you're going to boss me around like a servant."
Kai's gaze lingered. Too long. "I see."
He reached past him to open the door, close enough for the faint scent of soap and paper to drift between them. For a moment, Kai's hand brushed the boy's. A shiver — so faint it could've been imagined — passed through the air.
"Come in," Kai said finally. "Let's see how well you handle pressure."
The door closed behind them with a soft click — sealing the start of something neither of them could quite name.
Inside the office, everything was cold and clean — glass walls, black marble desk, no trace of warmth except the faint sunlight spilling over Kai's chair.
Ren placed the folders on the desk carefully. "I organized your morning reports, sir. And your schedule for today—"
Kai wasn't listening. Not really. His eyes had drifted again — over the curve of Ren's jaw, the way a single strand of hair had escaped and rested against his cheek. There was something dangerous about beauty that didn't try to be noticed.
Ren cleared his throat softly. "Sir?"
Kai blinked once, slow. "You're efficient."
"T-thank you."
"Don't thank me," Kai said, leaning back in his chair. "Just keep it that way."
Ren nodded. "Of course."
For a moment, neither of them moved. The silence wasn't awkward, but heavy — threaded with something neither wanted to acknowledge. The soft hum of the city below filled the space, along with the rhythmic tick of the clock.
Kai reached for a pen, his fingers brushing Ren's again as he handed him a file. This time, Ren didn't pull away immediately. He couldn't. There was a warmth there — dangerous, forbidden, but real.
When Kai finally looked up, their eyes locked once more. The world tilted.
"Go over these and send them to finance," Kai said at last, voice steady. "I want them by noon."
"Yes, sir."
His voice was starstruck. Barely above a whisper. Ren turned to leave, footsteps soft against the carpet. He reached for the door, then hesitated — something in him whispering that this wasn't just another job. That this man, this room, this quiet hum between them — it meant something.
He didn't look back. But Kai did.
His gaze followed Ren's reflection in the glass until the door shut behind him. Only then did he exhale, low and quiet.
Outside, the office carried on as usual. Inside, time felt slower — a little too quiet, a little too expectant.
Kai leaned back in his chair, staring at the closed door.He told himself it was nothing. Just a new face. A new assistant. Nothing worth thinking about.
But his hand lingered where their fingers had brushed, and the faint echo of Ren's voice refused to fade.
When the clock struck six, the office emptied one voice at a time — laughter fading into the hall, the elevator's chime echoing through glass walls. Kai stayed behind, as always. He sat alone beneath the pale light, reading the same page three times before realizing he hadn't absorbed a single word.
Ren's name sat in the corner of his mind like a misplaced note he couldn't erase. The way he had said yes, sir, the way his lashes trembled just slightly when he spoke — it shouldn't have meant anything. It wasn't supposed to. But something about that quiet obedience, that unintentional grace, it pulled at him in ways he didn't understand.
He rubbed his temples and stood, gathering his jacket. The city outside his window was painted in silver lights, streaking across the glass like rain that never touched the ground.
Downstairs, Ren was still there. Sitting by the front desk, typing carefully under the dim reception light. Too new to leave before his boss. Too earnest to realize that nobody expected him to stay.
Kai paused, unseen. Watched for a moment longer than he should have.
Ren looked up just then — eyes wide in surprise, catching him standing there. "Oh— Mr. Kai, I didn't know you were still here."
Kai adjusted his cuff, pretending calm. "You should go home, Ren. It's late."
"I just wanted to finish this report."
"Tomorrow," Kai said softly. "There's always tomorrow."
Ren hesitated, then smiled — small, genuine, tired. "Goodnight, sir."
Kai nodded once, turned away, and walked into the night. The echo of that smile followed him all the way to the elevator, where for a moment, he caught himself hoping — hoping for something he couldn't yet name.
He smiled to himself, faintly, helplessly."They always say the quiet ones are trouble," he murmured under his breath.
And for the first time in years, Kai found himself looking forward to tomorrow.