The office was nearly empty. Streetlights spilled through the floor-to-ceiling windows, slicing the room into stripes of gold and shadow. The quiet hum of the air conditioner and the faint tapping of keys were the only sounds. Kai leaned against the edge of his desk, arms crossed, eyes fixed on the city outside. He should have been focused on the reports scattered before him, but his attention wasn't there.
It always started the same way.
A presence. A shadow moving across his peripheral vision. Soft steps. A faint scent—fresh, unassuming, but somehow entirely consuming. And then, he looked up, and there was Ren.
Ren, standing perfectly still near the printer, head tilted slightly as he scanned a document. The room seemed to shrink around him, even though he was just a few steps away. A look that caught the weak light, hair falling just right over his forehead. The way his collarbone peeked from the open neckline, subtle, innocent… yet Kai's gaze betrayed him. It lingered longer than it should have.
Ren's eyes flicked up, catching his. For a heartbeat, the hum of the air conditioner, the distant traffic, even the clock ticking on the wall disappeared. The world narrowed to him, to the faint quiver of breath over skin, to the delicate tilt of lips caught in concentration.
"Mr. Han," Ren said softly, holding the folder slightly too close to his chest. "I finished the summary of the quarterly reports. I thought you might want to review it now."
Kai straightened, clearing his throat. "Of course. Leave it on the desk." His voice was steady, but inside, it wasn't. Inside, his pulse had picked up, his chest tightening at the way Ren's fingers brushed against his when placing the folder down. Too light. Too fleeting. Enough to make his fingers ache.
Ren hesitated, then straightened, hands clasped neatly in front of him. "Do you… want me to go?"
The question sounded harmless. But Kai realized he didn't want him to leave—not tonight. Not when the quiet heat that followed him around the office had become unbearable.
"No," he said, voice low. "Stay."
Ren blinked, eyes wide, then offered the tiniest, almost imperceptible smile. He stepped closer.
And just like that, the room became smaller. Every movement, every shift of weight, every faint brush of air between them felt too deliberate, too intimate. Kai hated it. And loved it.
Ren cleared his throat, moving to the chair opposite him, but didn't sit immediately. He lingered, pencil in hand, glancing at the documents with a soft hum, pretending to be focused, pretending not to notice how Kai's gaze tracked him, drawn like a magnet to the soft curve of his jaw, the pale sweep of his throat.
"Did you… stay late often?" Ren asked quietly.
Kai's lips quirked, half amused, half warning. "More than I should. It's quiet. Less chaos. Easier to think."
Ren tilted his head, studying him as if searching for something beneath the layers of control. "I see. And… do you… like it quiet?" His voice had a hesitant edge now, a soft note that made Kai's chest tighten in ways he wasn't used to feeling.
"Yes," Kai said, finally letting the corner of his mouth twitch into a small smirk. "Mostly."
Ren smiled again, just the smallest movement of lips, but it was enough. Enough to make Kai shift slightly in his seat, awareness spiking. Enough to make the air feel heavier, the space between them charged.
For a few moments, neither spoke. Ren's pencil tapped faintly against the folder, Kai's fingers drummed against the desk. Each sound was amplified, electric, deliberate. Every glance carried weight. Every pause was a heartbeat that stretched just a second too long.
Kai finally leaned back, eyes narrowing slightly, testing the restraint he usually wielded like armour. "You're… distracting."
Ren's eyes widened ever so slightly, a soft blush touching the apple of his cheeks, though his posture remained perfectly composed. "I'm sorry."
"No," Kai said, voice low, almost a growl. "Don't apologise. Not for… existing like this."
Ren blinked, caught between innocence and something that was starting to feel dangerously magnetic. He moved slightly, closer, rearranging the folder, unaware—or maybe entirely aware—of the way Kai's gaze followed the subtle rise of his collarbone, the faint curve of his throat.
The silence stretched. Shadows pooled in the corners of the office, and the golden stripes of streetlight traced the lines of their bodies. The air was thick with anticipation, each breath measured, each movement careful, each thought impossible to control.
Kai stood abruptly, walking toward the window, pretending to look at the city. But he could feel Ren's presence behind him, the soft sway of his figure, the faint scent of him lingering like a promise.
"You know," Kai murmured, almost to himself, "you shouldn't be allowed to stay late. Not like this."
Ren's voice came closer, soft but deliberate. "Why's that?"
Kai's hand pressed against the glass, jaw tense, as if holding himself back from everything he wanted but could not have. "Because… you're dangerous."
Ren's soft laugh carried across the empty office, light and teasing, the kind that made Kai want to pull him closer and shatter the restraint he'd always clung to. "I'm… dangerous?"
"Yes," Kai said, turning slightly, eyes dark and intense. "Well then. I don't know what to say to your confidence, Ren. You're only my secretary. My assistant." His voice dropped to a dark whisper: "My servant."
Ren tilted his head, gaze locking with his. There was understanding there. There was challenge. There was fire. And something in Kai's chest flared, a heat he didn't want to admit but couldn't deny.
They stood there, breathing the same air, tension crackling with every inch they did not cross, every glance that lingered too long. Every inch that pulled them toward something neither could name yet.
Finally, Ren straightened, smoothing his shirt, looking almost innocent again. "I… should leave. You have work to finish."
Kai's hands itched to reach for him, to stop him from moving, to feel the heat of his presence closer than distance allowed. But he didn't. Not yet.
"Stay a little longer," he said, voice quieter than he intended. Vulnerable, in a way he never admitted.
Ren paused at the door, shoulders stiffening imperceptibly, then smiled that soft, captivating smile. "For you… just a little."
And as the door clicked shut behind him, Kai let himself breathe. His chest was tight, his pulse racing, and yet he was smiling, helplessly, because the danger of Ren—his brilliance, his innocence, his quiet power—was intoxicating.
For the first time in years, Kai felt… strange. Pulled toward someone, tangled in desire he wasn't supposed to indulge, chasing sparks that only existed because of the restraint.
And he didn't want it to end.
Not tonight.