Archive of Our Own ^beta

The cat is there the day he moves in, perched on the low wall to observe them rushing in and out of the apartment block, his sisters complaining with every box and bag they heave in for him. He barely greets the cat then, too harried about moving everything out of Jinseol’s car and into the apartment, too busy fretting about the recent life decisions that had led him to this point. A new job, new apartment on his own, settling down in a city where he knows no one. He’s too busy pushing away the thought that after his sisters leave and before he starts the new job next week, he’s going to feel so, so lonely, to properly stop and give any attention to the cat watching him the whole time.

But still, he notices and remembers the cat, a handsome animal with grey fur and white patches splotched across his back, cupping his paws and framing his nose. Hard not to remember when the cat eventually gets curious and follows him inside the building as he’s hauling up the last box—exclusively filled with bodywash, vitamins, cleansers, face packs and perfumes, helpfully labelled ‘essentials’—and starts padding along the corridor with him, so close to his feet Seungkwan is worried he’ll step on the poor thing. He follows Seungkwan all the way to the elevator, then saunters inside without hesitation, and Seungkwan pauses before reaching for his floor number.

“Hey, kitty, I don’t think you’re supposed to be in here.” The cat just looks up at him. Perhaps he lives here? Seungkwan sighs and shifts the box in his arms so he can press the right button. “Okay, then. If you say so.”

Once they reach the fifth floor, the cat continues to follow him down the corridor to his apartment, trotting along behind him like a little shadow. He slinks into the apartment with him too, curiously sticking his head into the partially open boxes and circling around the half-furnished room as Seungkwan and Sojeong stack the last of the boxes safely on the floor.

“Why is there a cat in here?” she asks him, picking through luggage until she’s close enough to pet the cat. The cat scampers away as soon as she gets close, disappearing into the bedroom. “And why doesn’t he want pets?”

“I don’t know, he just followed me in here. He probably lives somewhere in the building and is being nosey.”

Then there’s a brassy clattering down the hallway that Seungkwan imminently discovers is Jinseol dropping his container labelled KITCHEN, and he and his sisters spend the next twenty minutes unpacking the whole thing to check that nothing is seriously broken. Then they rush out to get dinner, ravenous after the day of travelling and moving, then buy Seungkwan some groceries for the next few days. It’s late by the time they’re done, time for his sisters to leave, Seungkwan saying effusive goodbyes as they hug him and reassure him that he’ll be fine, he’ll do well. He trudges his way back through the apartment building alone this time, trying to suppress the forlorn feeling that has crawled its way inside his chest in the absence of company. He’ll be fine, he tells himself. He’ll do well.

He unlocks his front door, ready to resign himself to a long night of unpacking and sorting the apartment, only to be met with a displeased yowl when he switches on the light. He shouts, clutches his hand to his heart, then spots the grey cat again, standing tall and proud on top of his suitcase like he’s ready to hash out his grievances with Seungkwan.

“Oh, kitty!” he exclaims, kicking off his shoes at the doorway and toeing his way through the boxes to reach the cat. “I’m so sorry, I totally forgot you’d found your way inside earlier! You’ve been stuck inside this whole time?”

In response, the cat only yawns in his face, and Seungkwan places down the grocery bags to free up his hands. The cat sits back on its haunches as Seungkwan strokes behind his ears, seemingly placated already.

“I guess you had a nap or something and didn’t realise how long I took,” Seungkwan says, petting down the soft fur of the cat’s back. There’s no collar or anything to indicate who the cat belongs to or where he’s come from, but he’s clearly well cared for and relatively harmless. “Sorry about that, really. I hope you won’t hate me now. I need all the new friends I can get in Gwangju.”

The cat watches him, blinking slow as Seungkwan continues to stroke him with gentle hands. He feels lucky that the cat doesn’t hate him now, still calm enough to let him fuss over his fur like this. The repetitive gesture is soothing after the hectic day he’s had, something to ease his tension a little. Even if he didn’t mean to lock the cat into his new apartment, it’s kind of nice that he’s here now, that the apartment isn’t completely barren to come back to.

He looks over his shoulder. His front door is standing partially open, but the cat doesn’t look over at it like he’s eager to leave. Seungkwan gestures at it with his thumb, looking back at the cat.

“You can leave when you want, kitty. I’m sure your family will be missing you. I have to unpack now, which will probably be boring and noisy.” He stokes the cat one last time, thumbing at the fur under his ear affectionately, then stands to survey the room. He has a lot to do.

He finds the box with his speaker in first, picking it out so he can blast some Weeekly at a respectable volume to keep him company as he unpacks. He expects that to be the thing that scares the cat away, but the cat only continues to stare at him, tracking him around the room as he moves from bag to box to container. Once he gets into the swing of unpacking, the cat lays down on top of his suitcase like it’s his own little throne, and Seungkwan almost forgets he’s there, singing to himself as he unpacks things into drawers and cupboards and onto sideboards and shelves.

The cat doesn’t leave until late into the night, when Seungkwan finally needs to get into his suitcase and unpack his clothes. They hold a short staring contest before the cat hops off with a soft meow, and Seungkwan laughs to himself, giving him one last long stroke before grasping the handle of his suitcase. The cat sashays towards the front door then, and Seungkwan follows after it, if only to close the front door now that he needs to leave the main room.

“Thanks for keeping me company,” he says, waving at the cat as he stalks away down the corridor. The cat turns back to look at him, bright eyes round and dark, and then meows a goodbye before skipping down the staircase.

-

The head office for Xu Industries is located in a rather intimidating-looking skyscraper, one that he’d sussed out online before this but looks about a million times bigger in person, all shining silver and glass panes that reflect the dazzle of the sun. He’s directed through the considerably large reception to the seventeenth and eighteenth floors of the building, which apparently are the two used by Xu Industries. The elevator is all glass too, so he spends the ride up to floor seventeen watching Gwangju get smaller and smaller below him, feeling much like a very small fish swimming in the ocean for the very first time.

Then the elevator doors slide open, and he’s met by the beaming smile of a man in a comfortable brown suit, who immediately extends a hand to Seungkwan.

“Seungkwan-ssi! I’m so glad you found us alright!” he says. He’s looking at his hand expectantly, like he’s excited to see Seungkwan shake it. Seungkwan offers him a quick bow before shaking his hand in return. “I’m so pleased to meet you! Welcome to Xu’s, welcome, we’re really so excited to have new hires in today, it’s not often we get new faces in the office!”

“I’m thrilled to be here,” Seungkwan says, trying not to look down at where this man is gripping his hand very firmly and shaking it very enthusiastically lest he come off rude. “Thank you for the welcome, really—”

“You didn’t introduce yourself,” a new man says, appearing out of seemingly nowhere to interrupt and extend his own hand to Seungkwan, who has to pry his own away from the first man to accept. “I’m Mingyu, I work in PR, and this is Seokmin from HR. We’re going to show you around and help you settle in today, if that’s alright.”

“More than okay!” he says, watching as Seokmin hits Mingyu on the arm for taking over his introduction, and Mingyu pulls a face at him in retaliation. They must be pretty close friends in the office. “It’s great to meet you.”

“I was getting to my name!” Seokmin insists. Mingyu only gives him a look before turning back to Seungkwan.

“We’ve actually been waiting for you, the other new hire arrived half an hour early so we’ve been chatting in the staff room. Come and meet him to start with, then we’ll take the tour around the office.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry, I didn’t realise—”

Seokmin waves him away. “No worries, no problem, he really was thirty minutes early, you’re perfectly on time.”

Mingyu pushes open the staff room door to reveal a little kitchenette and couch against one wall. The young man sat on it, smartly dressed in a fine suit, stands as soon as the door is opened, posture straight and chin tilted up to speak to them. All three of them in the room are taller than him, though Seungkwan only barely, and his sharp features give him an edge of maturity.

“Seungkwan-ssi, please meet Lee Chan-ssi, our new business management intern starting today. He’ll be moving around the departments to get experience in different areas of the company, so you’re bound to be working with him at some point in the near future.”

“Delighted to meet you,” Lee Chan says, giving him a precise bow before shaking his hand. “I’ve heard you’re excellent at what you do, and of course you would be, to be hired by Xu Industries! I’m very excited for us to be working together!”

Seungkwan feels slightly bowled over by the enthusiasm of the kid, but tries not to show it, flashing him a smile and returning his sentiments in kind. They hold some polite small talk for a short while before Mingyu brings the conversation back around to the office tour, grin revealing twin canines that make him look a bit like an excited puppy with a bone.

Seokmin leads them all back out of the staff room and into the main open-plan office, where at least twenty desks span the room, all set apart with low dividers. Two women stand by the wall of windows to use the coffee machine and water fountain respectively, but almost all other eyes in the room turn to Seungkwan and Chan as they enter. Seungkwan tries for a smile, feeling slightly warm under all the attention, and thankfully receives plenty of smiles back.

“Floor seventeen is primarily for the marketing and sales teams, and this is where you’ll be starting, Chan-ssi! If we come around here, this is Mingyu-ah’s desk, and for the meantime you’ll be shadowing him in his work. Here, come and meet the marketing team.” Seokmin then lists off about ten names in succession, pointing out each person as they pass by their desks, and it’s all Seungkwan can do to keep up. Chan seems to have no problem, addressing everyone personally as they greet him, and Seungkwan can already feel the beginnings of a headache at the thought of an intern picking up things quicker than him.

“Hey, man,” someone says from behind him, and Seungkwan whirls around to see a man in a white shirt that’s surely too big for him coming his way. He’s not smiling per say, but there’s something about his face that seems open and welcoming. “Don’t worry about remembering everyone’s names right now, they won’t mind if you ask them again. I’m Vernon, though, in case you want to remember that one.”

“Seungkwan,” he replies, glad to have someone to speak to directly as Chan gets acquainted with the marketing team. “It’s great to meet you! You’re right, it’s so overwhelming to start learning names from scratch, I wish I knew just one person here as a starting point.”

“Well, you know me now,” Vernon says. “I’m in sales with Yeji-ah and Lia-yah over there, and Wheein-noona and Hwasa-noona here.” He points at the two women now gossiping by the windows with mugs in hand, and then at the desks along the right side of the room. The first woman is speaking into old-fashioned phone handset, the second typing furiously on her keyboard, but both take the moment to look up and smile or wave at him. “I’m sure you’ll be pushing figures our way in no time if you’re going to be in accounting. Jihoon-hyung is all too happy to give us an in-depth rundown on statistics we don’t really need, along with Wonwoo-hyung, our marketing analyst. When those two get together to do a review, there are no survivors left. Swell guys usually, though.”

“Hey,” a man calls over from two desks away, pushing round glasses up his nose. “What are you saying about me?”

“That you’re brutal, but great,” Vernon says. “Wonwoo-hyung, this is Seungkwan-ssi, the new accounting hire. Do you know where Jun-hyung is?”

Wonwoo nods at Seungkwan, a timid but genuine greeting, before gesturing with his hand towards the doorway. A man wearing a big grey cardigan and clutching a pot of steaming instant noodles is coming into the office, clearly only just arriving at work despite it being an hour into the business day.

“Hi, Hyung,” Vernon says, waving for his attention. The man’s eyes snap up to him, then slide over to Seungkwan, and he stills in place. “Seungkwan-ssi, this is Junhui-hyung, he’s in charge of our digital marketing campaigns. I think that’s everyone in office seventeen now, but you’ll be up in eighteen, so you don’t need to remember us that well.”

“I’ll do my best, I can’t let the intern beat me,” he replies, gesturing to where Lee Chan is chatting up a storm with a woman about her new parrot, or something. How he’d managed to do that after knowing her for about two minutes, Seungkwan doesn’t know. “Hi, nice to meet you,” he says to Junhui, offering him a little bow, and Junhui snaps back into action.

“Um, yes, hello,” he says, dropping his pot noodles onto his desk, bag thumping to the floor as he hurries to come over and greet Seungkwan. “Hi. What are you doing here?”

He pauses slightly at the question. “What am I…?”

“He’s the new one in accounting, remember, Hyung? Our new intern is over there too,” Vernon explains.

“Ah,” Junhui says, glancing over at Chan, then back to Seungkwan. “Well—welcome! Everyone’s been really excited to meet you—I’m sure you’ll fit in, everyone’s really nice—um…”

“I’m excited to be here!” Seungkwan says, tactfully picking up the conversation for him. He’s probably the type to be nervous around new people. “Everyone’s been so—"

He’s interrupted by a triad of loud sneezes from Seokmin, and Seungkwan turns to face him in alarm. Seokmin shakes himself and begins to profusely apologise. “Sorry about that, sorry everyone. This office always sets off my allergies. Let’s go upstairs, Seungkwan-ssi, and you can meet your team!”

“Bye,” Vernon says, straightforward to a point, and Seungkwan waves a goodbye at him and Junhui. He hopes that the people in the office upstairs will be slightly more comprehensible than they have been so far in office seventeen.

“Office eighteen is mostly for management, purchasing and finance, so this is where you’ll be working! I share the office too, because they didn’t know where else to put HR, so if you need anything don’t be afraid to ask! I’ll only be a few seats away from you.”

The elevator doors open up to an office floor almost identical to the one they’d just been on but for the row of closed offices along one wall, one of which has the shiny name plaque XU MINGHAO COO on the front of it. He recognises the name—Minghao had been present in his online interview, not saying much but to thank Seungkwan in the end, while a woman called Yuna had done most of the talking and a man named Jihoon had asked the odd question. He hadn’t realised at the time that Minghao was the chief operations officer for the whole company, or that he was a Xu at all. As in, Xu of Xu Industries, presumably. He seems too young for such a role, but it makes more sense if it’s been passed down a family line.

“Seungkwan!” a woman’s voice exclaims, and Seungkwan turns to recognise Yuna again now, coming up to him with a warm smile. “It’s so good to meet you properly! I hope Seokmin-oppa hasn’t been talking your ear off before you’ve even begun?”

“He’s been very helpful!” Seungkwan says, smiling genuinely for the first time. Yuna has an honest friendly aura that he can’t help but feel reassured by, along with Seokmin’s apparent purity of heart as he places a hand over his chest at Yuna’s suggestion.

“I’ve been on my best behaviour!”

“I’ll believe it when I see it!” Yuna says, beckoning Seungkwan along with her. “I’m sure you’ll meet everyone in time, so I won’t overwhelm you with introductions now, but come and meet Jihoon-oppa. You’ll be working closely with him, and your desks are right opposite each other.”

They approach a blonde man sitting at his desk, hair slicked and grey suit well-fitted, and he quickly notices their approach even from behind. It surprises Seungkwan when he stands to greet them and barely makes 5’4—not that Seungkwan is someone to talk about height, but his presence on the web call had been much bigger than his actual stature. Maybe that was all in Seungkwan’s interview-jittery state of mind at the time.

“Seungkwan-ssi,” Jihoon says when they approach, exchanging more bows and handshakes. “Welcome to the company.”

“Very glad to be here,” he says. “And glad to be working with you, Sunbaenim.”

Jihoon nods, slightly abashed, and opens his mouth to respond when he’s interrupted by a loud heckle from the back of the room.

“He’s here!” a man shouts across the office, bounding up to Seungkwan and taking his hand in both of his. He’s wearing a bright orange suit, and his hair dyed a golden-blonde. “You must be Boo Seungkwan-ssi!”

“That I am!” he replies, mildly alarmed.

“Seungkwan-ssi, this is Soonyoung,” Jihoon says, sitting back down again. “You just have to ignore him until he goes away.”

“Um,” Seungkwan says, not sure how he should politely respond to that. “Nice to meet you?”

“And you!” Soonyoung says, looking Seungkwan up and down, then there’s a little pause as he seems to run out of things to say. He turns to Seokmin instead, hands on hips. “Hey, did they restock those little mint things downstairs?”

“Yeah, I think they did. Giselle-ah was just snacking on them.”

Soonyoung claps his hands together. “Excellent! I’ll see you all later, in that case.” With that he sweeps away from the conversation, Seokmin following after him and talking in his ear about the proper rate of sweet consumption.

“And what does he do here?” Seungkwan asks Yuna in the aftermath of the whirlwind. She only shrugs, a slightly pitiful smile on her face.

“Best if you don’t ask, to be honest. Minghao-jeonmu isn’t in today, or I would introduce you to him too, but he did ask me to extend his welcome in his absence. Unless there’s anything else you need, I’ll leave you with Jihoon from here.”

Seungkwan only shakes his head and thanks her, so she also leaves him at his new desk. Jihoon gestures for him to sit and starts telling him how to log into his computer, and Seungkwan hurries to keep up with the pace of the people in this strange, strange new workplace.

-

The cat is sat in the same place on the wall when he arrives back home that day, bone-tired and seriously considering breaking his diet for some delivery jokbal. He feels like he deserves it, and also that he might fall asleep at the stove if he tries to cook tonight, so it’s really the only option for his own health and safety. He’s too busy typing his mother a long message about his first day at work to see the cat right away, until it mews at him for attention and Seungkwan looks up to see him teetering on the edge of the wall, sticking his head out as close to Seungkwan’s hand as he can without falling off. The sight makes him smile—a real smile, not the nervous first day type you have to keep up in a new place with all new people to impress.

“Hi, kitty. You come to greet me again?” he reaches out to pet the cat’s head gently, stroking his thumb back over the crown of his head until he starts to preen and purr. “Or you wanted more pets, I guess. That’s fine too.”

The cat hops off the wall and immediately climbs onto Seungkwan’s new shoes, twisting his body between Seungkwan’s ankles. Seungkwan bends over to rub behind his ears a moment more, then when the cat is detached enough for him to move safely, continues walking into the apartment building. The cat follows him inside just like before, happily loping along behind him into the elevator and up to the fifth floor. When the elevator doors slide back he even runs ahead of Seungkwan and stops outside his apartment, which makes him laugh to himself, amused and endeared as he inputs his code.

“Maybe you did come to hang out with me after all, hmm?” He leaves the door slightly propped open behind him so that the cat can choose to leave if he wants. “Thanks kitty, I promise not to lock you in the flat this time. What do you think of the apartment? Looks better now, huh?”

The cat meows, considering the room carefully, standing still and attentive as Seungkwan moves to take off his coat and shoes and put away his bag. By the time he looks back, the cat has perched on the arm of his sofa, curling up there with the view of the whole room in front of him.

“Good spot,” Seungkwan says, sitting down beside him slowly so as not to scare him. “It’s been such a long day, you know. First days are always like that though, aren’t they? Long and tiring and strange. And let me tell you, today was strange. Really good though, everyone’s really nice and the job doesn’t seem as intense as I expected for such a prestigious company. The elusive Xu Industries. I still can’t believe I’m there.” He knocks his head back against the sofa, looking at the cat as the cat looks up at him, waving his tail in the air. Seungkwan strokes along the cat’s back in slow movements, and for a few minutes the two of them sit there in unbroken peace.

Then his belly rumbles. Seungkwan looks over at his kitchen space, thinks about moving, and pulls out his phone instead.

“I have an important decision to make, kitty,” he says, looking up at the cat seriously. “I can either drag myself up, change my clothes, cook myself a healthy dinner, then go to bed. Or I can order jokbal to congratulate myself for the long day, spend the whole evening in bed, and regret it in the morning. Meow once for takeout, or stay quiet for—”

The cat immediately meows, and Seungkwan laughs. “Alright, that’s that decided, then. Thank you, kitty. You want something too?”

The cat stands up in place, peering over at Seungkwan’s phone as he goes through the menu as if he’s really weighing up what to order, his little front paws reaching out to balance on Seungkwan’s arm. The extra pair of eyes even makes him feel slightly guilty about adding the soda and ice cream to make up the minimum order charge.

“Living on your own sucks, I’m going to end up ordering so much fast food. You better not enable me next time,” he tells the cat, who had moved fully into his lap by the time he’d finished the order, entranced by the digital process. When he locks his phone the cat looks up at him, then scampers away onto the floor like he hadn’t realised they’d gotten so close.

The cat doesn’t leave though, not after he switches on the TV, nor after the food arrives and Seungkwan starts googling for the sorts of foods cats can eat, feeding him pieces of pork and mixed veggies throughout his meal. He doesn’t leave until late in the evening, when Seungkwan throws away the packaging and takes off his work clothes, starting to get ready for an early night.

It’s almost like the cat had come over just to act as Seungkwan’s much needed company for the evening, making him feel a bit less alone for a few hours. The food had probably helped, and the clear curiosity in the cat to scope out Seungkwan as a newcomer. But it’s nice, to think of the cat as a comfortable friend he can count on in Gwangju.

When he goes to leave, the cat stops at the front door until Seungkwan notices he’s waiting there, and only then does he move out through the gap. Seungkwan jogs over to the door, pulling it open to see the cat slinking away down the corridor again.

“Bye!” he calls after the cat quietly, closing his door securely behind him with a smile.

-

Seungkwan doesn’t have much reason to see the group from office seventeen for a little while after that, too busy settling in at office eighteen, getting into the swing of the job and memorising the names of everyone there. Everyone at the office is young, probably no one more than ten years older than him, and all seem to be incredibly close for a group of people working such big city jobs. In his last job people had been too busy to make friends, and in his first job the generation gap had made it difficult for him to socialise with his co-workers. It’s not like socialising is a thing he finds particularly hard or intimidating in the first place, but here he doesn’t even have to try. Ningning comes to sit at his desk almost every morning to give him the rundown of how her home aquarium is growing with plant and fish breeds, and Seokmin always drops by his desk at some point to offer him some casual conversation too. He’s kind of amazed that they have so much to say about such mundane things every day, but he’s not complaining. It’s a nice change of pace from the last two jobs.

Two weeks into the job, Lee Chan gets moved up to their office, specifically to the desk next to Seungkwan’s. He has no problem giving Seungkwan an earful about everything that lives under the sun too, which Seungkwan can’t even reprimand him for because 1) he’s barely his senior, 2) everyone else in the office seems to love it, and 3) he’s infuriatingly efficient at every task he’s given, so it’s not like he’s really slacking off at all. More than once, Seungkwan has wondered why he’s in an internship when he seems capable enough to run a small department on his own already.

It’s the middle of his third week at work when he encounters a patron of office seventeen again, sat in his chair and speaking to Jihoon when Seungkwan comes back in from his lunch break. It’s Junhui, gripping the side of their shared desk and rolling himself back and forth along the floor as he speaks, kind of like how children do if you sit them in anything that moves.

“Please please please, you know it makes sense, the kids would love an inflatable like that and I found it online for really cheap, it’s so cute Hyung—”

“No, we’re not buying it,” Jihoon says shortly. “It makes no sense to use the budget like that.”

“It does make sense if you think about it the right way! Décor! Wasn’t Shua-hyung saying they wanted to brighten the place up last time we heard—”

Jihoon nods pointedly in Seungkwan’s direction then, who’s casually approaching their desk, and Junhui looks over his shoulder before abruptly cutting himself off and jumping out of his seat. “Sorry! Seungkwan-ssi, I forgot this was your chair—here, have it back—”

“That’s okay, don’t worry,” he reassures Junhui, moving his chair back into its original spot but not sitting down in it while Junhui doesn’t have a seat of his own. He doesn’t want the guy to feel more awkward than he clearly already does. “Did you come up for something that I can help with?”

“No, he didn’t,” Jihoon says, as Junhui shrugs a few times more than necessary in quick succession.

“I was just asking Jihoon-hyung about something…” he says, fidgeting with his hands.

“An inflatable?” Seungkwan asks, and Junhui looks at Jihoon, slightly panicked.

“Jun-ie found one of those inflatable balloon men online. He wanted me to convince Solar from purchasing that we should get one for the company, because he’s too scared to talk to her himself.”

“You mean the things that dance outside carwashes?”

“Yes!” Junhui exclaims. “Ha ha. Exactly that.”

“I don’t think that would suit the company brand much, would it?” he says, not unkindly, but Junhui nods immediately.

“Yep! Probably not! Just a thought, ha ha… I’m going to go back to work now!” With that, Junhui scampers off, surprisingly graceful at navigating around the office desks with speed.

Jihoon laughs to himself as Junhui beelines straight for the staircase, running down it rather than taking the elevator. “Don’t mind him, he gets all excitable about his ideas for things. He’s just a little shy around you, but he’ll warm up soon enough.”

“It’s fine, he seems nice enough,” Seungkwan says, settling down into his desk chair again. The one next to him is empty for the first time he’s seen this week, and the absence is immediately apparent. “Where did Chan-ah go?”

“Oh, Minghao-ah—I mean, Xu Minghao-jeonmu is in today, and he wanted to, erm, meet you both,” Jihoon says, and Seungkwan is only briefly distracted by his slip. He’s that close with the COO? “Obviously you were on lunch, so—”

“It’s no worry,” a steady voice says from behind him, and Seungkwan turns to find Xu Minghao approaching him, Lee Chan at his side. “I can see I came to find you at a bad time, but it’s nice to finally meet you. I’m sorry it took us so long to meet in person. I’ve been abroad, and only got back last night.”

Seungkwan gives him a bow and shakes his hand firmly, trying not to feel thrown off by the sudden appearance of the office superior. “So pleased to meet you, sir, thank you again for the opportunity! I’ve really settled in here, everyone is so nice…”

“It’s a pleasure to have you,” Minghao says, collected and calm. “I hope everyone has made you feel welcome?”

“Very much so!” And they have, in truth—everyone has gone out of their way to be kind to him. He’s still feeling very much like the newbie of the team, the outsider to their incredibly close-knit work friendship group, but that’s no fault of theirs. “Everyone here is so close, and the workplace attitude is so great, everyone is hard-working but so friendly… I don’t know how you’ve done it, but I’m honoured to be amongst such good people.”

Minghao nods agreeably. “We started out as a family business, so for many years we only hired family or close family friends. Junhui and Ningning are both cousins of mine, and a lot of others are old schoolfriends, or close acquaintances who offered to help us set up the Gwangju branch. Don’t feel daunted if it seems like everyone here has known each other their whole life—you and Chan-ssi are our first time hiring completely outside of an established social circle, but I know everyone is willing to welcome you with open arms. Are you going to karaoke night on Friday?”

“Karaoke?”

“Ask Seokmin about it, he probably forgot to tell you. The first Friday of each month is karaoke night for those who are so inclined.” He pats Seungkwan very lightly on the arm and goes to move around him. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to talk to Soonyoung about proper use of the company facilities.”

“Of course,” he says, stepping aside so Minghao has the room to pass by him. “Will you be going, sir?”

Minghao looks back at him. “Going?”

“To the karaoke.”

Minghao’s mouth moves slightly, in what might be an imitation of a smile. “No, I won’t be at karaoke.” Then he moves away towards Soonyoung’s desk, where the man in question is talking loudly on his company phone, feet propped up on the desk opposite him and laughing raucously. In the two and a half weeks he’s been here, Seungkwan can’t recall one time Soonyoung has done anything that resembled work, and still hasn’t managed to figure out what exactly his job is here.

“Do you enjoy singing?” Jihoon asks him, and Seungkwan’s attention is brought back to their shared desk space as he sinks back into his chair.

“Yes, actually, it’s a hobby of mine,” Seungkwan says, peering around his monitor at Jihoon. “Do you…?”

“Yes, I sing,” Jihoon says, surprising Seungkwan. It’s hard to think of the man opposite him doing anything but sitting and typing, upright posture, round glasses perched on his nose. Hard to imagine him letting down his fine-slicked blonde hair and belting at karaoke on a Friday night. Seungkwan had kind of assumed his hobby would be stocks, or something. “Seokmin, Mingyu, Soonyoung, Ningning, Chaeryeong and I are the regulars at karaoke night. Junhui comes fairly often too, and Wonwoo when he’s in the mood. Ryujin when she doesn’t have other plans. You’re very welcome to join us.”

Most of the list of names Jihoon had just reeled off are people Seungkwan is either fairly comfortable with or has at least had a friendly conversation with, if you count the conversation with Junhui just now about inflatable balloon-people. Of all social events to start with, singing and drinking sounds like a relatively fun one, the sort of outing he needs after these weeks holed up in his flat, just him and the cat when it deems to come and greet him. He needs more friends than a singular cat, and while he’s not sure how far he can push out that boat out when it comes to his colleagues, he can at least try.

“I would love to come,” he says, and finds he means it. “I’ll look forward to it.”

-

The cat is there again that evening, but he’s not sat on the wall this time. He’s a little further down the street, closer to where Seungkwan gets off at the bus stop, and he’s got his head stuck in a discarded takeaway box. Seungkwan only recognises him by the white markings on his back, drawing out a pattern that feels distantly familiar, though he hasn’t quite figured out why yet.

“Oh, no! Hey!” he says, stepping towards the cat and gently pulling him away from the takeaway box. The cat jumps violently under his hands and strikes out with a paw, alert and alarmed until he can pull his head free and see Seungkwan waiting there. Seungkwan has his hands safely away at this point, not wanting a scratch to the face or to his expensive shirt, but the cat only relaxes upon seeing him and continues to munch at the noodle half hanging out of his mouth.

“Why are you eating trash on the street? Doesn’t your family feed you?” Seungkwan nudges the box with his shoe until the brand logo comes into view, the dish name scribbled in marker over it—the cat is eating jjamppong, of all things. “Jjamppong? What are you doing! Don’t you know how spicy that is?”

The cat looks up at him, and Seungkwan notices how his front paws are dyed slightly orange where he seems to have ripped into the container. Perhaps the smell of seafood had pulled him in.

“Can you even eat that?” he asks, pulling out his phone. A brief internet search reveals a resounding no on spicy food for cats—it’s bound to upset his stomach, apparently. “Silly kitty—I hope this is worth it if you’re sick later. This is bound to be ugly when it comes up again.”

The cat steps forward to put a paw on Seungkwan’s knee where he’s squatting in the street, as if to console him.

“It’s not me you need to worry about! It’s you! I can’t believe you were eating jjamppong—ugh, come on, let’s get you inside so you can ride it out.” He cocks his head towards the building, and the cat responds by treading along beside him like a dog would, pretty happily for a supposedly sick animal. Of all cats Seungkwan has met, this one has the most earnest nature he’s seen—somewhat transparent for a cat, which is refreshing, even if it means he doesn’t shy away from eating takeaway trash on the street.

They trek to the elevator together, their little routine by now even if the cat doesn’t wait for him every day of the week (only most of them). The cat feels more like his pet at this point than whoever really owns him, with their easy familiarity and regular routine and designated seats in the apartment. The cat loves to curl up on the arm of the sofa, while Seungkwan sits in the butt-dip he’s steadfastly moulding into the end seat, stroking the cat slowly while they watch King of Masked Singer together.

Seungkwan makes himself dinner that night, doing his best to make home-cooked pho whilst the cat alternates between watching him and watching the television. He doesn’t seem unwell or upset yet, still just as unruffled as ever, glassy eyes tracking Seungkwan as he comes to sit back down with the broth.

“Still feeling okay, Jjamppong-ie?” he asks, stirring it slightly. “You don’t seem like you’re going to be sick. I hope not all over my sofa anyway.”

The cat trills in response, looking down at the broth with interest.

“No, you’re not having this. I could put some water out for you, if you’re thirsty? That’s a good idea actually, hang on.” He puts the broth on the side and goes to fetch a bowl, filling it halfway with water then placing it down beside his kitchen island. When he looks up again, the cat is balanced on his little low table, face in his bowl of pho. “Hey! I said that wasn’t yours, Jjamppong-ssi!”

The cat thankfully doesn’t seem to have licked the food yet, but looks up at Seungkwan as he takes the bowl away again, jumping back onto the arm of the sofa to settle in next to him.

“Seriously, you’re a menace. How are you still alive, going around eating everything like that? Will watching me eat make you feel full enough? Kitty mukbang?” He stirs the pho again then takes the first mouthful, maintaining eye contact with the cat the whole time. “Can I call you that, then? Jjamppong? You’re clearly a foodie. I’ll use that until I find out what your real name is.”

The cat meows, and Seungkwan likes to think it’s in agreement. “Alright then. I might change my mind if you throw up jjamppong all over my apartment, but it seems to be settling okay for you. What kind of cat likes spicy food? Maybe you didn’t eat that much after all.”

Jjamppong trills again, as if holding up his side of the conversation. Seungkwan rolls with it, humming thoughtfully. “Yeah, my day went okay, thanks. I got invited to karaoke today, so that’s a new development.”

The cat meows, tone going upwards like it’s a question, and Seungkwan smiles to himself before spooning in the next mouthful of broth. “Yeah, I know right? By Jihoon of all people. It sounds fun. Some people I know fairly well are going, some a bit less well. But I’m trying to infiltrate their little bubble of close-knit relationships, because seriously, everyone acts like they’ve known each other their whole lives in that place. They’re super nice and welcoming, but it’s still hard to feel like one of them, you know? Chan and I are so blatantly the outsiders of the office. I guess it was bound to happen when they’ve all been there so long, but… I don’t know. I guess I was hoping for a new start in Gwangju, really kick-start my life at twenty-four by moving to the big city. But right now nothing feels all that exciting. I just live on my own and get paid a bit more than before. You know?”

He looks over at the cat, and Jjamppong looks back at him. He’s not swaying his tail from side to side anymore, but watching Seungkwan’s mouth intently.

“My eyes are up here, kitty. I told you already, you can’t have the food. I’m pouring my heart out to you here, seriously.”

Jjamppong meows, a little sadly, then stands from his perch to step down onto the chair. Seungkwan, thinking he’s after the food again, places the almost-empty bowl out of reach on the table, but the cat doesn’t follow his movements and try to reach for it. Instead he settles down in Seungkwan’s lap, giving him that pleased little thrill that comes with animals showing their favour for you for no reason. It’s nice that Jjamppong trusts him this much—has chosen him, even. Jjamppong is the one that always comes to him, after all. Seungkwan strokes along the top of his head, down his back right down to his tail, and Jjamppong starts to purr in his lap, a warm weight across his thighs.

“Yeah. Thanks, kitty,” Seungkwan says, pulling out his phone to take a video of the moment in case it never happens again, Jjamppong’s rumbling purrs reverberating through the room as the TV plays on low volume. He posts the video to his story, then the two of them sit there for a long while, Seungkwan smiling to himself as Jjamppong falls asleep on his lap. They end up staying like that until it’s dark outside and Seungkwan’s leg has fallen asleep from being stuck in place so long. He doesn’t mind it, not even when Jjamppong startles awake and makes a quick escape later in the night, or when he’s curled up in bed and feeling the absence of the tiny body, the rhythmic purring in time with his own breathing.

-

Karaoke turns out to be an absolute hoot. They have a full house, with everyone Jihoon listed along with Lee Chan tagging along, and it’s a squeeze to fit them all in the noraebang room. It is, however, absolutely worth the sweaty couple of hours to hear Soonyoung and Mingyu’s rendition of Oppa’s Car, and Seokmin and Ningning’s power duet of Taeyeon’s I. He gets paired with Junhui on his turn, and although he’d already had options for a ballad, pop song, and western pop anthem lined up in his mind, Junhui takes control of the keypad before he can speak.

“You mean you aren’t going to ask us if you can sing a Chinese song this time?” Jihoon asks, hair loose and falling into his eyes, and it’s making Seungkwan double take every time he looks at him. “You’re just going to subject Seungkwan-ah to it?”

“No!” Junhui protests, still shy and awkward around Seungkwan, though he’s decided by now that it’s in an endearing way. “I have something in mind! This has been in the charts lately, right?”

Weeekly’s After School loads onto the screen, and Seungkwan gasps. “Oh, I love this group! Good choice!”

Junhui beams at him, opens his mouth as if to say something, then only straightens his posture and regrips his mic. The intro of the song leads into the lyrics within seconds, and Seungkwan takes the lead, yelling the first few lines with vigour. He’s had a few drinks, and Ryujin and Soonyoung are cheering him on, so something between drunken social solidarity and an unwitting peer pressure urges him to put on a performance for the whole thing.

Junhui clearly doesn’t know all the lyrics, but he knows enough to laugh and jump with him when the chorus kicks in, Soonyoung standing up to roar the lyrics with them even without a mic. Someone’s drink gets knocked over in the last verse, causing him to almost miss their score, which could’ve been disastrous as they’re in a competition that Seungkwan needs to win. It doesn’t really matter in the end, as their score is good but not good enough to compete with the apparent powerhouse vocalists in Xu Industries, Seokmin and Ningning.

Seungkwan sits between the two of them to complain as Chan and Ryujin arrange to take on Outsider’s Loner. “I can’t believe you two were allowed to pair up together, for one, and that no one told me you could sing like that, for two. How is that fair? Who are you really? Secret pop stars?”

Seokmin laughs loudly, and Ningning joins him, eyebrows high like Seungkwan has said something shocking. Seungkwan distantly wonders how much they’ve had to drink. “No, we’re not secret anything! Don’t be so silly, we’re just competitive at Friday karaoke!”

“And very talented singers,” Seungkwan says, taking a swig of his soju. He should probably stop soon, but Junhui isn’t drinking and had offered to drop him home, so he’s not finding much reason to stop that’s not the bottom of a glass. “Don’t worry, I’ll find out about your secret pop star lives one way or another. More drinks?”

He stands to order the next round of drinks, and by the time he comes back Jihoon and Chaeryeong are belting out some Hyuna, and he almost forgets to put the tray down before he goes to emphatically cheer them on. When the door is sharply pulled shut behind him by an employee outside, Wonwoo urges Seungkwan to sit down next to him rather than continue shouting, so Seungkwan listens to his conversation with Junhui about soccer for a while. Conversation is really too kind a word for what is mostly Wonwoo talking at Junhui, while Junhui nods and occasionally makes noises like he’s listening, then asks how far they have to kick the ball to score a home run. Seungkwan laughs and laughs at that, endlessly endeared, then gets up, dances with Soonyoung, drinks some more, and somehow ends up in Junhui’s car.

The slow rumble of the journey home sobers him up slightly, his head pressed against the cool window in the dark. He’ll feel embarrassed about this in the morning, getting absolutely wasted on his first night out with his colleagues, but it’s a small consolation that they were all similarly drunk (aside from the designated drivers) and a big consolation that he had so much fun doing it. The most fun he’s had since moving to Gwangju, for sure, and probably for a while before that too, the process of job hunting and moving out weighing him down for so long.

Junhui doesn’t say anything the whole drive back, and Seungkwan wonders if he falls asleep at some point, because the drive seems incredibly short. He stirs awake when they’re finally at a standstill, a tentative hand shaking his arm, prompting him to sit upright in one movement and look around blearily.

“We’re here? I’m so sorry, I think I had… way too much to drink.”

“No worries,” Junhui says. He’s retreated back into himself a little more now that they’re not interacting within a group settling, sat in his car in the middle of the night. “I’m glad you had fun. We’re here, though.”

“Oh,” Seungkwan says, pulling at his seatbelt a few times before he can unclip it. “Who—how did we get here?”

“I drove.”

“No, I mean—did I tell you that I live here? How did you know?”

“Oh,” Junhui says, stepping out of the car the same time he does, watching over the roof as Seungkwan braces himself against the vehicle as if he’s concerned that Seungkwan may fall over at any minute. The underground car park is cool and stale and brightly lit, and he can’t wait to get into bed as soon as possible. “I saw… Minghao told me that you live in the same building as me.”

“You live here?” Seungkwan exclaims, reaching out for him as Junhui rounds the car, grasping his arm so they can walk together to the elevator.

“Y-yes,” Junhui says, holding Seungkwan’s arm in place over his own. “It’s why I offered to drive you back…?”

“I don’t know why I didn’t know this,” Seungkwan mutters, mostly to himself. They step into the elevator and Junhui swipes his key card to give them access, so yeah, he really must live here. Seungkwan rests back against the mirrored wall and closes his eyes to avoid motion sickness. Throwing up all over Junhui would not be a good end to the night.

“It never came up?” Junhui says hopefully. “Don’t worry about it.” The doors chime open, and Seungkwan squints one eye open to check where Junhui’s getting off. They’re on the fifth floor.

“Don’t tell me you live on this floor too?”

“No, I’m just dropping you off,” Junhui says, taking his arm between tentative hands and pulling him along the corridor to his apartment. “Are you going to be okay? Do you need anything?”

“I’m fine, it’s fine, Junhui-ssi, thank you so much,” he says, fumbling to type in his door code. “It was really super fun. Thank you for singing with me. I didn’t know you sing!”

“I think everyone sings,” Junhui says, watching him get the door open on his second try. “And you can call me Hyung, you know. Erm. If you want to.”

Seungkwan stops, halfway into his apartment, one shoe already kicked off. “Oh? Thanks! That’s really nice!”

“You already do with Jihoon and Seokmin, really, it’s no problem—”

“Yes, but I see them every day at work. I’m glad you feel comfortable enough to—to do that, that’s really nice,” Seungkwan says, blinking back the warm feeling behind his eyes. He’s way too drunk for this. “Thank you. I’ll see you on Monday, Junhui-hyung.”

Junhui smiles at him, mouth pulling back to show off his square teeth, some slightly skewed and pointed. It’s cute. He’s cute. “I’ll see you Monday, Seungkwan-ah.”

Seungkwan has the presence of mind to watch Junhui leave until he’s out of sight, but doesn’t think much of it when he takes the staircase, headed down instead of up.

-

He accidentally gets off the elevator at office seventeen on Monday, and doesn’t realise it until he’s halfway into the office space and looking up from his phone to find all the wrong people around him. A few people are eyeing him up nervously, like they’re afraid he’s going to come and grill them about their finances or something.

“Hey man,” Vernon calls to him the moment he freezes. “You need something?”

“Oh, no, I’m fine, I just managed to get off on the wrong floor,” he replies, laughing. “You have a nice weekend?”

“Yeah, great thanks. Volunteered at the cat shelter for most of it and helped some friends get diagnosed, so it was productive.”

“Diagnosed?” Seungkwan says, something catching his eye as he speaks—the swish of a tail along the cabinets lined up at the back wall. There’s a sleek black cat asleep on top of one of the filing cabinets, and no one seems to be paying it any attention at all.

“Yeah, I studied to be a veterinarian for a few years. Couldn’t face the putting animals down thing, so I never finished it, but I know enough to look at animals and treat them at the shelter for free.”

Seungkwan’s attention is brought back to Vernon. “No way, that’s so cool! Where did you study? How the hell did you end up in sales after that?”

Vernon shrugs. “I studied overseas, I guess. Can’t get any real job with it if you don’t have the qualification, so now I just do it on the side.”

“No kidding! Is that your cat, then?”

He can see several other people in his peripheral turn to look in the direction he’s pointing, obviously listening in on the conversation even if they pretend not to be. He wonders which one of them owns the cat, if not Vernon, who’s shaking his head slowly as he looks over at the filing cabinet.

“No… not mine. He’s his own cat, I reckon,” Vernon says, expression impassive when he turns back to face Seungkwan.

“Huh,” Seungkwan says, trying to repress a smile at the way he can spy Yeji and Mingyu putting their heads together and whispering urgently. He bets the cat belongs to one of them. “What a handsome kitty. The markings make him look like he’s wearing glasses, look! How cute, he looks just like Wonwoo-sunbaenim!”

An office-wide deathly silence follows his joke, and the awkward tension it ushers in sends ice up his spine. Wonwoo isn’t even there to grin and agree with him, like he’s sure he would’ve done otherwise. Vernon only looks at him without saying a word, and Seungkwan nods to himself, gesturing to the door. “You know, I’d better go now. Jihoon-hyung is probably wondering where I am…”

He turns towards the door with just enough time to catch himself from bumping into the arriving Junhui, who doesn’t see him coming either, too busy looking at his phone. He’s starting to wonder if Junhui has a later starting time than everyone else, family privileges or something.

“Oh, Seungkwan-ah!”

“Sorry!” he says, steadying himself and swerving the hand holding more pot noodles. “Sorry, I’m a disaster today, how typical for a Monday morning—”

“It’s fine! Don’t worry!” Junhui says, dropping his belongings on his desk and turning to face him again before Seungkwan can make a swift exit. “I actually wanted to ask you something?”

“Oh?” Seungkwan says, briefly running through a laundry list of things Junhui might ask him. Why he got so excessively drunk on Friday? How he can stand here decimating any good reputation he’s built in the office with one bad joke? Perhaps he’s seen him regularly taking the cat from their building hostage and wants to know what’s up with that?

Junhui pulls his keyboard across the desk and rapidly taps the spacebar to wake his computer up. “I was wondering if you want to go out for dinner sometime this week? Since you’ve just moved to Gwangju I thought you might not have been around too much, and I know all the places that do good Chinese food—ask anyone, Minghao and I have a list of all the real authentic places…”

Seungkwan takes a moment to process several things at once. First, that Junhui is asking him out to dinner—alone? After they’ve barely held two conversations—though they did sing a girl group song together at karaoke, to be fair. That’s almost like a pact of lifelong friendship for Seungkwan. This is chiefly a very nice gesture but also a rather baffling move. They seem to be very apt descriptors for Junhui in general, though.

Second, he wonders if this is supposed to be a date. He’s been getting gay vibes from Junhui so far, and he knows he gives off plenty of his own, but it’s hard to believe he’s very appealing after he had to be helped up to his apartment on Friday, drunkenly stumbling around and tearing up over offered honorifics. Maybe Junhui just feels sorry for him.

Third, Junhui is pulling up the website for the Chinese place on his computer to show Seungkwan the menu, as if that will be the thing to convince him. Extremely cute.

Fourth, Junhui’s computer had been in sleep mode on a Twitter analytics page, and for a few seconds when it had turned on Seungkwan had seen the details. It wasn’t the Xu Industries company account, but something called the Chameleon Sanctuary, a name he’s sure he’s heard somewhere before. Is everyone in this company a volunteer for animal charities, or what?

“Yes!” he replies, storing each of those thoughts away for later inspection. “I’d love to! You’re completely right, I haven’t had time to explore Gwangju yet, but I really want to.”

“Good!” Junhui says. He seems a little surprised by Seungkwan’s immediate agreement. “Okay! So… Friday?”

“Friday!” he confirms, smiling. A genuine one—perhaps he hasn’t lost all his chances of friendship with office seventeen after all. “We can go straight there after work.”

“Perfect,” Junhui says, eyes shining, and Seungkwan can tell he’s pleased with himself. “Great. Yes.”

“Great,” Seungkwan echoes, backing up to the office door again. “I’m going to go and get on with my work now. But thank you, Hyung, for offering. I really appreciate it.”

Junhui gives him a little wave as he leaves the office, and Seungkwan returns it before skipping up the steps two at a time to reach floor eighteen. Jihoon looks up at him as he comes in, squinting in his direction.

“You get held up on the way in?” he asks as Seungkwan takes his seat opposite him, slightly ruffled.

“Something like that. Hey, what does it mean if Junhui-hyung asked me out for food this week?”

Jihoon looks up at him over the frame of his glasses. “Just the two of you?”

“As far as I’m aware.”

“What kind of food?”

“Chinese. Authentic, he said.”

Jihoon raises his eyebrows once and pulls an inventory in front of him, scribbling something down before he answers. “It means you should treat his heart gently, because he’s just put it in your hands.”

-

Jjamppong is sat proudly on the wall that evening, posture upright and expectant as he waits for Seungkwan in his usual spot. Seungkwan beams when he approaches him, and Jjamppong stands up to stretch out in his direction, straining to receive his usual pets by Seungkwan’s hand.

“Hi, Ppong-ppong-ie!” he says happily, stroking behind his ears and around his face. “Boy, have I got news for you! You’ll never guess what!”

Jjamppong stays precariously balanced on the wall, but tilts his head up at Seungkwan, meowing as if asking the obvious question.

“I’ve got a date!”

His contact with soft grey fur is abruptly cut off by Jjamppong slipping and falling off the side of the wall with a yowl. Seungkwan can’t move fast enough to catch him, can only watch as Jjamppong has just enough time to right himself but not enough time to brace for impact. He lands awkwardly, half on his side, eyes wide as he tries to pull himself back onto all four paws and stumbles. Seungkwan kneels quickly, which seems to startle Jjamppong more, attempting to pull himself up even as he limps on his front left paw.

“Oh, no, you poor thing! Oh dear, oh no—don’t try to move, it’s okay, shh, it’s okay, is your paw hurt? Oh, no…”

He frets awkwardly for a minute, not wanting to touch Jjamppong and make it worse, but not wanting to let him scamper off and hurt himself more either. “What to do, what do I do?” he asks, mostly to himself. Jjamppong is completely avoiding putting weight on his paw the more he tries to stand up straight—it’s obvious he’s hurt himself. “I don’t know where you live, so it’s not like I can help you inside or call anyone… Junhui might know where you live, but I don’t have his number…”

The revelation comes on him at once, and he claps his hands together, relieved. “That’s it! Of course, Vernon will know what to do. He literally told me today he does this kind of thing for fun. I may not have his number either, but I do have Jihoon’s.”

He settles down next to the wall, still squatting so as to keep Jjamppong company, stroking him very lightly to keep him calm. Jjamppong feels tense under his hand, but at least he’s not trying to run anywhere, only looking down forlornly at his injured leg.

Jihoon texts back in seconds with Vernon’s number, no questions asked. Seungkwan calls it up without hesitation, and Vernon answers on the first ring.

“Sup.”

“Vernon-ah, it’s Seungkwan. I have an emergency.”

“Oh?” Vernon sounds as calm as ever, like his interest is slightly piqued. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, it’s not me, it’s my cat. I mean, he’s not really my cat, but he seems to think he is—he’s fallen off the wall, I think he’s hurt his paw. Can you come and look at him, or should I go to a—”

“I’ll be right there,” Vernon says. “Don’t move him. Are you at your apartment?”

“Outside my building, yeah.”

“I know you live in Junhui-hyung’s building, I can be there in twenty. Hang tight.” Vernon hangs up the phone, and when Seungkwan pulls it away, it’s to hear Jjamppong’s soft, upset mews.

“Oh, baby, it’s okay, help is on the way,” Seungkwan says, petting him soothingly, sliding the phone back into his pocket. “We’ll get you treated in no time, don’t you worry.”

True to his word, Vernon arrives in just under twenty minutes, still in his argyle work vest and slacks. He’s holding what looks like a child’s lunch box with a cartoon polar bear on the front, but when he crouches down on the side of the road and opens it up, Seungkwan can see it’s full of rolls of bandage and antiseptic wipes, medical scissors and tape.

Vernon slows for a moment when he sees Jjamppong, glancing over at Seungkwan before picking up the cat with gentle hands. “Did you say this was your cat?”

“Not really. He just hangs around me a lot. He fell off the wall while I was talking to him, so I feel kind of responsible.”

Vernon places the cat down in his lap, careful hands feeling along the injured leg. He pulls it this way and that, gently testing out his limits as Jjamppong whines and rumbles in protest, biting at Vernon’s fingers harmlessly.

“Alright, I got you. You’re okay.” He releases Jjamppong again to dig around in his kitty first aid kit.

“Is he okay?”

“He’s going to be fine,” Vernon says, pulling out a wad of bandage and starting to wrap it around and around Jjamppong’s front left leg. “It’s the joint here, look, he can’t pull it up so far. He just needs it set in place so he can ease back into using it properly. Can you help me with the tape?”

Careful fingers keep the bandage in place as he snips up one side of it, layered on thick to provide support. Seungkwan hovers with the wad of blue tape ready, and Vernon takes it to fasten a generous amount around the wrapping. When Jjamppong is freed again, he tests out his new bandage tentatively—he’s still limping, but he can use the leg a little more than before.

“Thank you so much,” Seungkwan says, running both hands over Jjamppong’s ears to caress his face. “I don’t know what I would’ve done if I didn’t have you—he’s not my cat, so I shouldn’t really take him to the vet, but I don’t know where he lives, and I wouldn’t want to leave him alone…”

“You did the right thing,” Vernon says, and his tone is firm, a statement Seungkwan can’t help but believe. “He’s going to be okay. If he’s staying with you, try to make sure he has somewhere comfortable to sleep, and that he’s not doing any ambitious jumping for a while.” Vernon gives the cat a firm look, as if telling Jjamppong directly, and Jjamppong looks anywhere but Vernon’s face. “He’ll be fine, but I’ll come back again in a week or two to look at it again.”

“Oh, he usually goes back home at night… wherever he lives. Do you think he’ll struggle with the stairs? I don’t know what floor he lives on…”

“Probably,” Vernon says evenly. “If he wants to stay with you, let him stay. If not, he could always come and stay with me?” Again, he looks down as if he’s questioning the cat directly. Jjamppong looks up at Vernon for a moment, then limps away towards the apartment building.

“I guess that’s a no,” Seungkwan says, slightly endeared by the whole thing. Vernon really is good with cats. “I’ll let you know how he is.”

“Please do,” Vernon says, packing up his little box and standing again. “I’ve got to get back, otherwise I’d come and see your place. Try to get some fish in to feed him with. Cats will eat most meats, too. Not cat food, if you can avoid it.”

“Okay?” Seungkwan says, almost questioning why he can’t feed cat food to a cat, but he’s sure Vernon knows better than him when it comes to cat care.

“He’ll take care of everything else himself. Cats are like that. Text me if you need any help, you have my number now.” He makes an abrupt exit then, eyeing a bus approaching down the street and starting off in a gentle jog towards the bus stop to catch it.

“Bye!” Seungkwan calls up the street behind him. “Thank you!”

Vernon makes a vague waving gesture in his direction, and Seungkwan turns to go his own way, following Jjamppong into their building. He’s already waiting for Seungkwan by the elevator, sat awkwardly to avoid putting weight on the injured leg.

“We going up, kitty? You coming to stay with me?”

Jjamppong mews softly, limping into the elevator after him as Seungkwan coos. He curls up right next to Seungkwan’s leg as they go up, half hiding behind it, half sitting on his shoe.

When they get into the apartment, Seungkwan sets about making food for the two of them straight away, digging out his frozen fish to fry up. Jjamppong seems to be feeling rather sorry for himself as he does so, wandering over to look up at the sofa forlornly, and then apprehensively looking around the room.

“Ah, no you don’t,” Seungkwan says, seeing him eyeing up the leap into his usual spot on the sofa arm. He comes over to Jjamppong and lifts him up instead, supporting him carefully under his belly. Jjamppong stays a pliant weight as he does so, but scrambles to get his feet under him when Seungkwan sets him down, immediately stalking towards his favourite resting place.

“What to do with you, Ppong-ppong?” he sighs, stroking him a few times before going back to his spitting pan. “What a day. I didn’t even get to tell you about the date, after all that!”

Jjamppong jerks his head up from where he had been unsuccessfully trying to curl up and rest on his good leg. That makes Seungkwan laugh, at least—perhaps his real name sounds like the word ‘date’, or maybe his owner’s name, for him to react so strongly to it both times.

“It’s with this guy at work. I’m pretty sure it’s a date—we don’t know each other too well, but it kind of feels like a date. He wants to hang out with me, which a good sign, right? I think it’ll be nice. He’s really sweet. Really dorky, but you know, in a cute way.”

Jjamppong mewls again, sounding very sorry for himself, and Seungkwan brings the fish off the heat. “I know, I know. Maybe I should’ve asked Vernon if I can get any medication for you… maybe catnip will help? I’ll ask tomorrow. Here, have some fish.”

He only persuades Jjamppong to nibble on a bit of the fish, not nearly enough for a meal, so he leaves some dried meat out in a bowl overnight just in case. He also painstakingly sets up a little nest of blankets nearby for him to sleep in, with all the spare sheets and cushions he has in the apartment. The next morning, he finds Jjamppong curled up on the end of his bed anyway, which is terrifying—what if he’d accidentally kicked him in the night?—as much as it is endearing. He continues to sleep soundly as Seungkwan takes pictures of him and pets him gently, and then has to run around to get ready for work on time, staying asleep right up until Seungkwan closes the front door behind him.

-

He realises, that next day, where exactly he’d heard of the Chameleon Sanctuary before. The connection he makes is not a comfortable one.

The name makes a noticeable appearance in the company’s outgoings every month, in more than one way. Not only are they a customer, receiving regular shipments of the company’s trade for way less than they should be paying, but they also seem to be a well-supported charity in financial contributions. They receive a sizable amount of the company’s gross every month in charitable donations.

This immediately sets off alarm bells in his head. He can remember asking Jihoon about this briefly before, along with a few other charities the company supports—the Allotropy Alliance, the Society for Changeover Children, Modern Morphosis Support—and being impressed at the time that the company supports all these little-known charities for nothing in return. Knowing that Junhui runs the official account for one of these charities changes things—perhaps Minghao and his family have more of a personal stake in these donations than he’d thought.

“Seungkwan-ah!” Seokmin says, appearing out of nowhere and shaking Seungkwan from his inner musings. “I heard about your cat! Is he doing okay?”

“Did Vernon-ie tell you?” Seungkwan asks, surprised. Out of the corner of his eye, he can spy Jihoon looking up at them as he listens in. “He’s miserable, poor thing, but I think he slept well at least. I wish I knew what apartment he’s from so I could reassure his family he’s okay.”

“It’s okay, I’m sure they’re not too worried about him!” Seokmin says, laying a hand gently on Seungkwan’s arm. “It is a shame, though, poor—poor cat! Poor cat.”

“Vernon-ah says he’ll be fine, he just needs to rest his little leg. I need to thank him again for yesterday, he can work wonders with injured animals, did you know?”

“He’s very skilled at that,” Minghao’s voice says from behind him, making him jump. The people in this office have a habit of appearing out of nowhere. “Is this about the cat? Is he doing okay?”

How does everyone know about this already? Do they have an office group chat he’s not a part of? That would make a lot of sense, actually, even if the idea is considerably distressing. “Yes, yes, he’s okay. Just had a tumble yesterday and is feeling a bit sorry for himself, I think.”

“Is he eating?” Minghao asks him seriously. “He’s not straining himself?”

“Um, he didn’t eat so much yesterday, but I left out some snacks overnight that were gone this morning…” Seungkwan is majorly thrown off by his boss’s level of interest in his cat. This office keeps managing to mystify him. “Are you a cat lover too?”

Minghao blinks at him a few times, face unchanging. “I suppose I have a propensity towards them, yes. Thank you, Seungkwan-ssi, good work.” He then makes a swift exit down the staircase, and Seungkwan is left more confused than ever. The highest praise Minghao has given him so far has been in response to taking care of a cat that isn’t even his.

A few other people come up to him and ask him about the cat during the day, and all of them coo over the pictures he shows them. He gets several more additions to his social media out of it, promises to update a handful of people on the progress of the cat, and finishes the day convinced that everyone is in on the hypothetical secret group chat except him. This includes Lee Chan, who hasn’t been at all fazed by these strange occurrences happening one desk over from him.

Still, he has enough courage left at the end of the day to swing by office seventeen and catch Vernon on his way out. He manages to find him right as he’s packing up, which is a stroke of luck, but unfortunately misses Junhui completely.

“Did he head out already?” Seungkwan asks as Vernon falls into step with him, gesturing to Junhui’s desk.

“No, he wasn’t in today. Off sick,” Vernon replies, and Seungkwan feels his mood drop even further.

“Oh no, I hope it’s nothing serious?”

Vernon gives him a sideways look as the two of them step into the blissfully empty elevator. “He’s in good hands, I think.”

“Oh,” is all he says to that, wondering if that means Junhui lives with someone. Hopefully not a boyfriend. “Well, I just wanted to catch you and thank you again for coming to help me yesterday.”

“It’s no problem, anytime. You can contact me in the middle of the night if your cat is having problems, I seriously don’t mind.”

“Thank you, I really appreciate that. I was also wondering if there’s anything I can get that’s like… kitty painkiller?”

“Sure, yeah, I’ll text you a list of brands you can pick up at the pet shop. You’ll be able to find something there, definitely. Just watch your doses if you’re putting it in food, and keep an eye on the cat before you give it to him. You’ll be able to tell if his mood is down and he needs a bit.”

“Oh, amazing, thank you!” He’s already making a mental map of how he can stop off at a pet shop before going home that evening. “That’s really good, I’ll do that.”

Vernon smiles at him, amicable. “No problem. I’m happy to help. I can even take you there now, if you like. I need some supplies anyway.”

Seungkwan smiles back and nods. Even if the office does have a secret group chat without him, he likes to think that Vernon sticks up for him whenever the others gossip about him and his half-kidnapped, half-crippled cat.

-

A little bit of medication in his food that evening perks Jjamppong right up, stalking around the apartment like he owns the place again in no time, even if his usual slinking around is hindered by the injured leg.

Seungkwan doesn’t have any plans for the evening beyond his usual nightly routine, which these days consists of practising Pilates while the TV is on, a routine occasionally abandoned over the past few weeks when Jjamppong had curled up in his lap and stayed there. But Jjamppong is watching the TV closely today, sat comfortably on a cushion, silent and still but for the swishing of his tail. Seungkwan lays out his yoga mat and sets up his usual Pilates instructor videos on his tablet, volume low so as not to disrupt Jjamppong’s absolute interest in Descendants of the Sun.

Pilates is a love-hate endeavour for him, a passion of his own demise, but a form of exercise he can keep up without forking out for the gym membership quite yet. It’s not fast, but it is intense, and he has to keep his whole focus on it while he’s doing it. It means he doesn’t notice at first when Jjamppong carefully jumps off the sofa to come to the floor level with him. It nearly gives him a heart attack when Jjamppong stalks up to him as he’s in an endurance position on his back, legs in the air, the cat suddenly right in his face.

“Oh my God!” he shouts out, nearly rolling away, and Jjamppong stops to stare at him. “Don’t look at me like that! And don’t sneak up on me!” He rolls over onto his front to balance his weight on his hands.

Jjamppong obeys, sitting back to watch him change positions for a while, bright eyes tracking his movements. Seungkwan diligently follows the lady on the screen even as he’s distracted by Jjamppong’s strange interest in his hobby. It’s pretty cute how he’ll sit there and watch something for ages without getting bored, even if it’s something repetitive like tv show scenes or Seungkwan cycling through Pilates moves.

When the video comes to an end, Seungkwan plops back on the floor, exiting the app and groaning into the following silence. Jjamppong looks between him and the screen, and Seungkwan looks back, propping his weight up on his hands to catch his breath.

Jjamppong is the first to move, stalking up to the tablet and inspecting it. Then he reaches out a little paw and presses at the screen, causing it to topple down flat. Seungkwan laughs and watches as Jjamppong presses at the screen a few more times —he’s got the notes app open, and keeps pressing at the keyboard, watching a random keysmash of characters appear under his good paw and jerking his head quickly when the letters cluster together under the clumsy touch.

“Hey, there are more fun things to do than that,” Seungkwan remarks, pulling the tablet away from the cat as he mews in protest. He opens up the games folder and selects Fruit Ninja, then sets it down so Jjamppong can see. “Look, see? This seems like more your thing. You can’t eat this kind of fruit, though.”

He demonstrates the mechanics to Jjamppong a few times, slicing his finger through the flying fruit. Jjamppong dashes out with his paw at the third or fourth appearance of fruit, eyes trained on the screen, and he’s surprisingly successful at it. Seungkwan is glad for the tempered glass protector when he goes again, striking out without missing a single fruit. Seungkwan giggles to himself, extremely endeared, and reaches behind him to pick up his phone. He records Jjamppong as he continues to use his good paw to go for the fruit, scoring well for an impressive length of time. He only falters when the speed starts to pick up and he gets a little too into it, paw slipping right off the screen and causing him to nearly topple over again.

“Oh no, not too much, baby,” Seungkwan says, ending his recording and petting Jjamppong soothingly, who seems to have lost himself slightly in the game and is now looking startled that it’s ended. “That’s enough of that, I think. You’re skilled, though. Maybe you were a streamer in another life.”

Jjamppong meows again, long and drawn out like a complaint.

“No more games!” He’s laughing even as he says it. He’s getting way too used to Jjamppong’s idiosyncrasies to be good for him—he’s only a temporary resident with Seungkwan, after all, until he’s well enough to go home. “I need to take a shower now, so this is going out of your reach. I actually got something for you to play with while I was at the store today.”

He gets to his feet, placing the tablet on the side and pulling over the bag from the pet shop. Along with the painkiller, he’d bought Jjamppong some kitty litter, a proper water bowl with a painted fish pattern around the edge, and his very own cat toy. He and Vernon had browsed through the cat toys for a little while together, Vernon very seriously batting at each one, then squishing a shortlist of them in his hands, then handing Seungkwan two of the best options. Again, Seungkwan hadn’t wanted to question his expertise on the matter, and had simply chosen the cuter toy of the two.

“Here you go!” he says, pulling out the little toy rat, grey and rough and complete with a squeaker inside. He squeezes it, and the noise makes Jjamppong jump, and then watch with a vaguely awkward air as Seungkwan throws it in front of him. He doesn’t move to take it, but looks at it for a moment, then looks up at Seungkwan again.

“No? Don’t you like it?” he asks, a little disappointed. Jjamppong looks up at him, then back down at the rat, and paws at it hesitantly.

Seungkwan places one hand on his hip. “Maybe I just need to leave you to get acquainted. Well, it’s yours either way. It’s not like I have any use for it.”

He showers, does his skincare routine, pulls on pyjamas, dries his hair, applies a facemask, reads some of his self-help book, takes his vitamins and rearranges his work bag for tomorrow. By the time leaves the bedroom-bathroom en suite to come back into the living room-kitchen hybrid, he’s ready to sleep, only popping back through to prepare his lunch for the next day and refill Jjamppong’s water bowl for overnight.

When he does come back through, it’s to find Jjamppong lying on his back with the rat between his paws, gnawing on it and rolling around with the toy in his grasp. Seungkwan stifles a squeal and immediately backs up into his room to grab his phone—it’s way too cute to pass up on filming this.

Jjamppong spots him filming unfortunately quickly and immediately stands up on three paws again, leaving the rat behind as if he’d never been playing with it in the first place. Then he stalks off to hide behind the sofa, squashing himself between it and the wall.

“Aw, come on! I saw you, you know!” Seungkwan says, picking up the rat and throwing it in the direction of the makeshift kitty bed. Hopefully that’ll be more incentive to sleep in the right place tonight. “It’s okay to have fun, kitty. It’s cute.”

Jjamppong doesn’t reply, so Seungkwan doesn’t bother him as he finishes up in the kitchen and gets into bed. He’s half asleep when he feels a shift in weight near his feet, and it nearly startles him awake before he realises what it is. He groans in Jjamppong’s general direction, hoping he’ll get the message, but all Jjamppong does is settle into the roomier part of his double bed. Maybe there is room for two, after all.

-

Junhui isn’t in work the next day, or the next, which is concerning for several reasons. The first being that he must be seriously ill to be off work most of the week, and the second being that no one seems to know what’s wrong with him when Seungkwan asks around. He can’t help but wonder if they’re deliberately keeping the information from him for some reason, since everyone in the office is usually so interlinked and knowledgeable about each other. Everyone also manages to politely deny him whenever he asks for a number or username to contact Junhui with, which might be out of considerable respect for his privacy, but only comes off as suspicious and not at all useful to Seungkwan.

The third reason, of course, is that their date was supposed to be tomorrow, Friday night. At this rate, it looks like they’re going to have to rearrange, but it’s pretty shitty that Junhui couldn’t even reach out to him to confirm that. Is he so ill that he can’t type? Junhui was practically glued to his phone on karaoke night, and he seems like the kind of person who can’t go without it even when he’s ill. Unless he’s broken both hands or fallen into a coma, he’s not sure there’s an excuse here. This leaves him alternating between flashes of frustration at the lack of communication about the situation, and bouts of anxiety over where Junhui might be, what’s happened to him, and how long it will take him to come back.

He distracts himself by doubling down on his efforts to discover the truth about Xu Industries’ charity donations. He pays attention every time he comes across the name in his work, but it’s never mentioned otherwise by any of his colleagues. If Junhui were here, Seungkwan would slip it into a conversation with him since he’s already seen the Twitter account, but he’s not here and Seungkwan is resolutely not thinking about that. So he pushes himself to do all the legwork—investigates what he can about the charity online, subtly digs up old financial statements that mention it while on his lunch hour. Discovers that the relationship between Xu Industries and this charity in particular, the Chameleon Sanctuary, is as long-standing as the company itself.

The public profile of the charity isn’t particularly impressive. Their accounts are cute, covered in chameleon gifs and appropriate memes in between money drives and blog posts. Junhui has done a good job there, if he’s responsible for all of that. But the website is simply underwhelming. It states that the charity is a preservation fund for the variety of chameleon species existing on Byeongpungdo, a tiny island within a cluster off the Korean coast. It’s apparently half-volcanic, half-jungle, doesn’t have anyone living on the island but the experts studying the chameleons, and is working to preserve and protect the species living there. But that’s it. There aren’t even any good videos or evidence of where this money goes, of what type of chameleons live on the island, or details of who exactly is taking the money and working there. All the existing photos of the chameleons are obviously generic stock ones. Seungkwan finds it all very hard to believe a charity like this could be close to the Xu family heart, and could need the generous amount of donations the company sends over every month.

He looks up the island next and discovers an interesting range of information on it, especially on the public forums. It’s the board on local rumours that gives him a bright idea.

“Hey, have you heard this?” he says to Chan, who’s eating his sandwich whilst keeping one eye on the photocopier. It’s Jihoon who’s really Seungkwan’s prime target, scrolling on his phone opposite him, certainly unable to ignore the conversation from where he’s sat. “I was looking up weird rumours about Korean animals, and one here says that there’s a wild tiger living on one of the Jindo islands.”

In his peripheral vision, he can see Jihoon stop munching on his food, freezing still.

“Tiger?” Soonyoung says, rolling his desk chair across the floor from four desks over to join the conversation. “Who said tiger?”

“Seungkwan-hyung says there’s one living in the Korean wild,” Chan supplies.

“Oh? Where?”

“Byeongpungdo,” Seungkwan says, and there’s a choking sound from behind him. He turns to find Seokmin struggling with a mouthful of water. Interesting.

“Really?” Soonyoung says after an awkward pause. Then he grins, all teeth, eyes curving into crescents. “Cool.” He kicks his feet against the floor to slide his chair back across the room, maintaining eye contact with Seungkwan all the way back to his desk.

“From what I can tell, though, the only thing confirmed to live there are birds and a range of chameleon species. Xu Industries gives fairly often to the charity on that island, right, Hyung?” Seungkwan speaks directly to Jihoon this time, and he can sense several pairs of eyes on him as he does so.

“Yes,” Jihoon says. “That’s the business of the company, though.”

“Of course,” he says, biting into his apple nonchalantly. “I think it’s wonderful that the company gives so much to charity.”

Jihoon nods stiffly. “Yes. It is.”

Right before the end of his lunch break, Seungkwan gets to the end of the first page of results about the Chameleon Sanctuary. It’s there he meets a breaking point in his investigation. This webpage lays out the details of the charity for public viewing, as all government-approved charities must be. It states when it was founded, who by, and where the charity can be contacted for business or volunteer work.

The founder of the charity is one Xu Chenyu, a name Seungkwan recognises instantly. He’s Minghao’s grandfather, the CEO of Xu Industries, never-before-seen by Seungkwan but present in the branding of his name on every wall, every document, every piece of stationary in the office. His picture is even hung on the wall next to the elevator.

A weight settles in his gut as he stares at the name. There’s no way this is a coincidence.

-

When Seungkwan arrives back at his apartment that evening, it’s to find all of his socks laid out in a strange pattern in the middle of his living room floor. They’re not chewed through or strewn around, so it doesn’t seem like Jjamppong threw a tantrum with his clothing as collateral—instead, the socks seem to be laid out in a pattern, like Jjamppong had come over in an artistic fit of some sort.

Jjamppong himself is zooming around the apartment, going as fast as he can whilst avoiding the socks and without using his front left paw very much. There’s poop in the kitty litter, a significant decrease in the water bowl, and the toy rat is no longer in the cat bed. Jjamppong seems to have had a busy day at home.

“Just what do you call this!” Seungkwan exclaims, dropping his bag and hanging up his coat. “Ppong-ie, how did you even get my sock draw open?”

Jjamppong yowls, coming to a stop under the coffee table to look up at Seungkwan. Then he bounds across the floor until he’s standing in front of the socks and meows softer, looking up at Seungkwan expectantly. Seungkwan looks down at the socks, baffled, trying to see what the hell Jjamppong had been trying to do with them, but he just can’t figure out why they’re laid out like this. It looks like a child tried to create a picture using only socks.

“Seriously, this is not what I needed today. I’m so stressed. I’ve had the worst day at work, I can’t even begin to tell you.”

He bends down to drag the socks into a pile, sweeping them all into his arms at once and cursing when a few drop out. “I swear to God, can something else go wrong? That would be just great!” he huffs, stomping into the bedroom and haphazardly dumping them back into the open draw. He stuffs the last few in, then closes it with a sigh, sitting back on his bed.

Jjamppong comes in a minute later, tentatively waiting at the doorway like he’s not sure if he should approach. He mewls softly, and Seungkwan’s heart softens a fraction.

“Sorry, Ppong-ie, I didn’t mean to shout at you,” he says, sitting up and rubbing his fingertips together in Jjamppong’s direction to beckon him forward. “It’s not your fault. But please don’t mess up my socks again, cleanliness is important to me.”

When Jjamppong is close enough to pick up, Seungkwan does just that, kissing his head and settling him down onto the bed. Jjamppong stills there, and Seungkwan lays out on his back, watching him. “It’s just been a stressful day. Let’s not think about it now, yeah?”

Jjamppong meows, and he takes that as an agreement. He really should do something to take his mind off it all.

He changes his clothes, cooks dinner, and begins to feel sleepy and sated later into the evening. Still, he’s set his heart on doing the one thing that he knows will calm him, and is determined to follow through. For the first time since moving into the new apartment, he brings out his ink and calligraphy brush, settling on the floor with a roll of paper. This always soothes him.

He starts out with the Chinese characters for his own name, a familiar pattern by now. Jjamppong pads over to inspect his work, sitting patiently on the other side of the paper as he watches him. Next he does his sisters’ names, and his parents’, also old hat to him. He still has a lot of space left on the paper, and he’s already feeling significantly calmer, with the faint buzz of the TV in the background and Jjamppong watching him so attentively. Though he was supposed to be doing this to avoid thinking about work, he can’t help but think there are some obvious new options for names to try out next.

“This is so stupid,” he mutters to himself, looking up the Chinese characters for Junhui’s name on his phone. He draws them out slowly, more careful than he was with the others, checking back every so often to make sure it’s right. Jjamppong meows at him as he watches him, then moves around the paper to sit right beside him, his head pressing into the side of Seungkwan’s leg. Seungkwan braces himself for Jjamppong to walk right over his work as he does so, but Jjamppong carefully goes around, safely resting on the opposite side of him to the inkwell.

“That looks better than expected, huh?” he says, stroking Jjamppong a few times with his ink-free hand. “I wonder which name will be the one to mess it all up. I’ll try Ningning-ie next, though I heard that’s not even her real name, if you can believe it.”

Jjamppong watches quietly as he traces out Ningning’s full Chinese name too. He finishes it much quicker, but is even more pleased with the results. “That one’s better, isn’t it? Her name is so pretty, and way easier than Junhui-hyung’s. Let me look up Minghao-jeonmu’s.”

Jjamppong meows a few times, standing upright again, not pressing against Seungkwan anymore. “Oh, Minghao-jeonmu’s looks hard too. I’ll give it a go, though.”

He barely makes it through the first character before Jjamppong is padding across his lettering, paws immediately soaked black with ink. Even though he’d been half expecting it, Seungkwan is still surprised by Jjamppong’s rebelliousness, and immediately sets aside his brush to pick him up before he can tread black ink around the apartment.

“Uh oh, no you don’t! What, was I not giving you enough attention, you little rascal?” He immediately heads for the kitchen and plops him into the sink, grabbing a rag from the side even as Jjamppong yowls and wriggles in his hands. “No, let’s get those toes clean! You’re not going anywhere, mister!” He wets the cloth and runs it over his paws, easily cleaning the ink off him whilst carefully avoiding wetting his bandage.

Jjamppong meows in protest a few more times, so Seungkwan sets him back on the floor with a sigh, throwing the cloth back and turning around to pack up the calligraphy set. Drawing out the names of his very suspicious colleagues was defeating the point of the exercise anyway.

He was going to tear up the paper and throw it away, not seeing any use for it, but he pauses when he spots the two paw prints inked right between Ningning and Junhui’s names. They’re cute, almost perfectly formed in black ink, and aside from Minghao’s name everything else on the paper looks perfect.

He decides to save it as scrap, something to practise with later. He sets it aside to dry and starts getting ready for bed.

-

He doesn’t talk to anyone much in work the next day. He stops off at office seventeen, the smallest amount of hope compelling him, but of course Junhui isn’t back at work. A lot of people look his way when he steps out of the elevator, and he wonders if they know what he knows. He’s still not sure what to make of this whole charity business, but if it is what he thinks it is, he’s onto their little corporate scheme. They should be scared.

He delays leaving the building at the end of the day, all too aware of what it means for him. It means resignation—it means when he leaves the building and there’s no Junhui waiting there for him, he’s been well and truly ditched. How could he be so foolish to think he’d been asked on a date? How could he be so short-sighted as to hold his heart out to a man he barely knew? He’d been setting himself up for failure from the start.

As expected, there’s no Junhui in office seventeen at the end of the day, nor in the building lobby, nor waiting outside. There’s no word from anyone else or contact from Junhui whatsoever. He doesn’t bother waiting to see if he’ll show up—the taste of disappointment is bitter enough without leading himself on. He leaves too late to catch his usual bus and boards a ridiculously crowded one, feeling sorry for himself the whole ride home. All in all, it’s a miserable day. He’s seriously considering going urgent job hunting when he gets home, because he’s not sure he can face another week of this.

Jjamppong is waiting for him on the wall when he arrives back at the apartment building, though Seungkwan almost walks right past him, too caught up in his own head. He only comes to a stop when Jjamppong meows loudly in his direction, doing a double take at seeing his cat there.

“Jjamppong-ie? What are you doing here? How did you get out of the apartment?”

Jjamppong just meows at him, stretching out in his direction, and Seungkwan lifts him off the wall and into his arms so as to avoid a repeat of earlier this week.

“Well, thank you for coming to greet me. At least you want to see me. I feel like I just got stood up, even if he is ill. Supposedly. I don’t know what to believe anymore.” He walks inside and presses for the elevator as Jjamppong settles in his arms, tail swishing against Seungkwan’s skin.

He lowers Jjamppong carefully to the floor when they reach his apartment, and Jjamppong flounces straight inside ahead of him. He heads straight for their usual spot on the couch, carefully launching himself up and looking back to Seungkwan as if beckoning him.

“Oh, Jjamppong-ah,” he sighs, kicking his shoes off and loosening the first few buttons of his work shirt. “I’m having the worst time ever. I don’t know what to do.”

Jjamppong meows back as if responding, as he does so often. It makes Seungkwan feel marginally indulged.

“I don’t even know where to begin with this mess. First of all, I think my boss is money laundering, and I don’t know what to do about it.”

Jjamppong yowls, standing up straight as Seungkwan plops down in his sofa crease. He looks down at Seungkwan, eyes wide.

“I’m serious! There’s this dodgy stuff going on with donations to a charity under the Xu name. It’s money laundering if I’ve ever seen it. I just don’t know what I’m supposed to do now—do I become a whistle-blower and tell the police? Don’t companies get away with this kind of stuff on the regular? There’s a good chance that would just get me fired. So maybe I should leave the job, find something else that doesn’t compromise my morality. Perhaps I just need to ask outright what it’s all about. There might be an innocent explanation, right?”

Jjamppong meows emphatically. Seungkwan sighs. “I don’t know. It sucks more because I’m pretty sure the guy I like is in on it. He’s part of the family, and he runs this account… yeah, he’s definitely in on it, whatever it is. Same guy has been off work all week and didn’t get in touch to tell me why, so I got stood up for our date tonight. It’s bad after worse, Jjamppong-ah, and I don’t really want to go back there next week.”

He stands from the couch as Jjamppong mews quietly. “It’s not your fault, Ppong-ie. Don’t worry. I’ll get over it. I’m thinking of applying to a few jobs tomorrow just to see what comes of it. It’s risky, but I don’t want to be involved in shifty stuff, you know?”

He heads through to the bedroom to get changed. Jjamppong continues mewling from the living room, but doesn’t follow him through, and Seungkwan continues talking to him through the open doorway.

“I’m pretty sure the whole office is in on it, actually. I knew there was something weird about that place! Minghao-jeonmu was saying all this stuff about them being so close-knit, and Chan-ie and I were the first people they hired that they didn’t already know… such a red flag, I’m telling you. I could tell that they’ve all been keeping things from me, especially since Junhui-hyung has been out sick. It made me really paranoid at one point, like everyone was talking behind my back… I even thought that maybe Junhui-hyung was avoiding me. Maybe because he doesn’t want me to know anything about their secret, maybe because someone else told him to avoid me. I don’t know. Maybe I wanted too much out of this job in the first place, but I know for sure that this office is straight up weird. It makes sense they’d have this big Hot Fuzz style secret.”

He comes back out into the living room, switches on the TV and splays out next to Jjamppong, comfortable in his pyjamas. Jjamppong has drawn in on himself now, laid flat against the arm of the sofa, watching Seungkwan apprehensively. Seungkwan scratches under his chin to loosen him up before stroking gently down his back.

“What annoys me the most is that I’m still worried about Junhui-hyung after all of this. He must be really ill. Or maybe he really has been forbidden from coming to work because he asked me out, and that’s why there’s been no contact. That’s probably wishful thinking on my part, though, trying to make him innocent in all of this. Whatever. I just hope he’s okay, you know? I don’t trust him to look after himself very much.”

Jjamppong meows. It sounds sad on his behalf, but maybe that’s just wishful thinking too. They sit and cuddle together for the rest of the night after that, and Jjamppong stays close when Seungkwan cries at the drama on TV, and lies on the pillow opposite him when they get into bed. Seungkwan sleeps easily, soothed by the gentle up-and-down rhythm of his body breathing in the dark.

-

Seungkwan posts the video of Jjamppong playing Fruit Ninja online on Saturday morning, and by Saturday night it’s gone viral. This brings about a distressing mixture of pride and panic for Seungkwan—yes, Jjamppong playing Fruit Ninja deserves to go viral, because he’s a damn skilled cat, but now he has a real concern that someone will recognise Jjamppong and report him as kidnapped or something. Reluctantly, but dutifully, he prints out a sign to pin to the noticeboard of their building, something he probably should’ve done days ago. It has a colour picture of Jjamppong with a note of his apartment number underneath, should his family wish to come and pick him up.

He spends all of Sunday sending off job applications, his heart not really in it, half waiting to hear a knock on the door belonging to Jjamppong’s owner. Having Jjamppong around has been the only reliable thing in his life since coming to Gwangju, and the only good thing in his life in general lately. It’s about time something comes along to ruin that too.

As much as Seokmin tries to get him to open up, he doesn’t speak to anyone much on Monday or Tuesday, and Ningning seems downhearted that he’s not as invested in her fish updates as usual. Minghao comes by to ask him about his cat again, and Jihoon keeps shooting him worried looks across the desk when he gives everyone short answers. Junhui still isn’t in the office, of course. Nothing improves, and nothing changes.

That is, until Tuesday night.

He reluctantly pulls himself from the sofa when there’s a knock at the door after dinner, his heart already sinking in his chest. No one has had reason to knock on his door the whole time he’s lived here. There’s only one thing this can be.

He opens the door to find three men stood there, all around his own age. The one standing closest to him has long brown hair tied up behind his head, and the second one has a red nose and big, glassy eyes. The third, standing a little behind the other two, is smiling like he knows a secret only he’s in on. At their feet, there are three cats standing and waiting with them, all looking up at Seungkwan patiently.

“Good evening,” Long Hair says very matter-of-factly. He holds up the sign Seungkwan had posted downstairs. “We need to talk with him.”

“Are you guys his owners?” Seungkwan asks, not wanting to believe it despite all the evidence in front of him.

“We’re his family,” says the second man, and when he talks Seungkwan can hear the rasp in his voice. He looks like he has a serious head cold, and it makes Seungkwan want to put on a mask and spray some disinfectant in his general direction. “We need to have a word with him.”

Seungkwan stares at him for a moment. “And take him back home…?”

“That depends,” the third man says, smile sharper. “I’m Joshua, this is Seungcheol, and this is Jeonghan. We’re—”

He’s cut off by a sharp call from the end of the hallway. “Hyung!” It sounds like Vernon, and Seungkwan steps forward incredulously. Has he somehow managed to earn two sets of visitors at the same time, completely out of the blue?

The four of them and the cats all look in Vernon’s direction, who’s waving his hands at the three men, shaking his head with wide eyes. Coming up the stairs behind him is Soonyoung, of all people, grinning like a mad man.

“It’s fine, Hyungs, you didn’t have to come all the way out here—we already knew he was here, didn’t Minghao-hyung tell you?”

Something brushes past Seungkwan’s ankle, and he looks down to see the three cats making their way into his apartment, meowing and panning out as if on a coordinated hunt. Jjamppong is suddenly nowhere to be seen.

“You knew he was here?” Seungcheol says to Vernon, hands on his hips, voice cracking as it rises in pitch. “But why did no one do anything? How did Minghao allow this!”

“Seungkwan-ah—hi, Seungkwan-ie—he’s working with us at the office, he’s trusted—”

“So he knows?” Jeonghan cuts in. Soonyoung giggles to himself for no apparent reason.

“No, not about that,” Vernon says, barely moving his mouth as if that will stop Seungkwan from hearing him. “But Hyung wanted to stay…” he trails off, gesturing vaguely at Seungkwan’s apartment.

“What’s going on here?” Seungkwan asks, absolutely lost. “Vernon-ah, have you known Jjamppong’s family this whole time?”

“I am—I’ve—” Vernon says, shrugging his shoulders helplessly. “They’ve come from out of town.”

Seungkwan is more confused than ever. Behind him there’s a loud, aggressive meow, and he turns to see the reddish-brown cat has found and cornered Jjamppong by the sofa, meowing in his direction as the black cat and white cat come over to join in. Despite being trapped between the sofa and the wall with nowhere else to go, Jjamppong is doing an admirable job of pretending these cats don’t exist, and are in fact not meowing at him.

“Regardless, he should know better. Can we come in and speak with him?” Jeonghan asks, pushing back the apartment door and stepping inside as he speaks. Seungkwan lets him, mostly because Vernon knows these people, even though he’s grimacing and looking apologetically at Seungkwan as he comes to the doorway too.

“Hi,” Soonyoung says to Seungkwan, both of them watching Jeonghan and Seungcheol march over to the cat congregation. “This should be fun.”

“What exactly is this…?” he asks, watching Jeonghan sit in front of Jjamppong while Seungcheol stands behind the cats, arms crossed. He looks like a very disappointed dad, and Seungkwan isn’t envious of Jjamppong’s life for once.

“I hope you know what you’ve put us through, young man!” Jeonghan begins, reaching in to drag Jjamppong into public view even as he yowls. “After all that time we spent discussing safety and secrecy, what’s the first thing we hear from you after you leave the sanctuary?”

“An injury!” Seungcheol exclaims, hands in the air. “And you’re staying with a stranger to recover? What were you thinking! You know Vernon-ie is the best choice for this!”

“It wouldn’t be so bad if that video hadn’t gone viral,” Joshua says, a lot calmer than the first two, but also stood at Seungcheol’s side to look down disapprovingly at Jjamppong. Jjamppong tries to look anywhere other than the men, but the other cats are flanking him in from all sides, so he ends up looking desperately at Seungkwan. Seungkwan just looks helplessly back at him. “But that was way too suspicious, and we had to step in. Especially when Minghao said you weren’t living with him anymore.”

“This is totally reckless, frankly, and dangerous for you as well as the rest of us!” Seungcheol adds. “I can’t believe you’ve done this!”

“Uh,” Vernon pitches in, hand half-raised. “To be honest, hyungs, it wasn’t really a problem. He didn’t tell Seungkwan anything.”

Seungkwan feels slightly hurt by the statement. Sure, he knew there were office secrets around the money laundering, but are there more conspiracies he’s not privy to? Something to do with cats? The further this situation develops, the more he feels like he’s missing something big, something right under his nose.

“Can someone please tell me what’s going on?” he says, with emphasis this time. “I don’t understand my cat has done wrong!”

All heads turn to look at him then, including the cats. Vernon taps him gently on the arm. “He’s not your cat. He’s his own cat.”

“Yes, okay, he’s not really my cat! But that’s definitely not the strangest thing anyone has said in this room in the past few minutes!”

“I think he is Seungkwan’s cat,” Soonyoung says, still grinning. “You know, in some ways. Junhui chose to stay here, after all.”

“Don’t you start ignoring all the sanctuary lessons too,” Jeonghan says, pointing at Soonyoung. “Did none of you think to question Junhui’s decisions about this?”

Seungkwan’s heart skips a beat. “I’m sorry, but what has this got to do with Junhui-hyung? He hasn’t been here at all.”

“See,” Vernon says, gesturing his thumb at Seungkwan. “It wasn’t an ideal situation, but technically Junhui-hyung hasn’t broken any rules…”

“He—he—” Seungcheol starts, but is interrupted by the stuttering breaths of an oncoming sneeze. All heads turn to look at him, and he pinches the bridge of his nose to stave it off. He’s unsuccessful, and sneezes loudly in the middle of Seungkwan’s living room.

In one smooth motion, the sneeze transforms Seungcheol down into a fluffy white rabbit. Seungkwan blinks rapidly, but this doesn’t undo what he’s just seen—the rabbit is still there, and Seungcheol is not. He stares, and blinks some more. The rabbit hops towards Jeonghan half-heartedly.

Soonyoung laughs, ear-splitting at Seungkwan’s side, and Joshua’s smile picks up like he’s amused.

“Oh, now you’ve done it,” Jeonghan says, turning around to flatten the bunny’s floppy ears against his head. “Such a good example to set the kids, hm? It’s no wonder they flout all the rules.”

“I did say you shouldn’t come,” Joshua says, the lilt in his voice smug and knowing. “This guy didn’t even know anything, but now he definitely knows.”

Vernon is silently ushering Soonyoung into the apartment so he can carefully shut the front door behind them. Seungkwan is still staring down at the bunny, sat where Seungcheol had been stood. He feels like his brain is lagging behind everything that’s going on, and he can’t fully comprehend what’s happening.

“Sorry about him,” Vernon says, patting Seungkwan’s arm again. “But hey, I think there are some things you should know now.”

The black cat with the white flecks around his eyes—the one that he’d seen in the office last week, sleeping on the filing cabinets—leans forward and grows in size and shape very suddenly. Then Wonwoo is sat on is his living room floor in simple black clothing, complete with his rounded glasses.

“No kidding, there’s stuff he should know. I’d like to remind everyone that I voted for telling him and Chan-ssi about us from the start. This was inevitable, especially with Jun-ah and Soonyoung-ie involved.”

Soonyoung laughs again. “It wasn’t even us who snitched! Seungcheol-hyung gave the game away!” he exclaims, then leaps forward into the middle of the room, suddenly dropping onto his hands and the balls of his feet. Jeonghan, Wonwoo, and the stiff white cat all whip their heads around to look at him.

“No, not in here—!” Wonwoo starts, and the white cat meows in his direction, but by then it’s too late. Soonyoung has become a tiger in the middle of his living room, knocking over his shoe stand and bumping into his coffee table as he does so.

Seungkwan’s brain catches up, and he screams, feeling dizzy at the staggering pile-on of cat-related revelations he’s just undergone. He can’t tear his eyes away from the honest-to-God tiger in his living room. Vaguely, he can feel the way Vernon is awkwardly patting his shoulder.

“Just so you know, kiddo, you need to keep this a secret, or we’ll be forced to kill you,” Jeonghan says, looking directly at Seungkwan as he lifts the bunny into his lap.

“Hiya, Hoshi!” Joshua chimes in sweetly, stroking the tiger’s head, who’s preening under his touch. “You’re looking healthy for a city tiger!”

“Oh my God,” Seungkwan is muttering to himself, knees feeling like they’re about to give out at any moment. “Oh my God, oh my God. You’re animals. Animal people. What? Why? How?”

“Yeah,” Vernon says, drawn out and hesitant. “Um. Sorry I couldn’t give you any warning before, but we’re forbidden from talking about it unless absolutely necessary, so…”

His brain is now functioning too fast, running in hyper speed compared to before, and he thinks he knows what Vernon is about to say. “Don’t say it,” he spits, gripping the kitchen counter with both hands to keep him upright. “Don’t say Junhui-hyung is my cat.”

“Junhui-hyung is the cat that’s been staying with you, yeah,” Vernon says apologetically. “Like I said, I would’ve told you, but it’s really against the rules…”

Jjamppong—no, Junhui—has escaped Jeonghan’s grasp to wander over in front of Seungkwan, looking up at him and meowing small meows.

“He says he’s sorry, but he did try to tell you,” Vernon says, and Seungkwan really feels quite faint. “He couldn’t show you physically because of his injury… we have to stick to one form when we’re sick or injured.”

There’s a tense silence in the room when Seungkwan doesn’t reply. No one else says anything, and the only noise is the loud purring of the tiger being fussed over by Joshua. Seungkwan is breathing heavily enough to hear his blood in his ears when Vernon raises his hand to point at the other cats. “The white cat is Jihoon-hyung, and the maroon cat is Ningning-ie. You saw Wonwoo-hyung in the office before, but obviously I couldn’t tell you it was him then, though you could kind of tell anyway…”

Seungkwan just about catches his breath. If he swallows down his initial shock to a barely manageable level, all that’s left over is anger and embarrassment.

“I want you all to get out,” he says, as calm and level as he can muster, which isn’t very calm and level at all. He closes his eyes for a long moment, and when he opens them, no one has moved. “Get out of my apartment! Now!”

Everyone spurs into motion as soon as his voice is raised, Jeonghan picking up the bunny on his way up and Junhui meowing loudly at Vernon, who squats down to meet him on the floor. Seungkwan thinks he’s going to be picked up too, but Vernon only manhandles him to test his injured leg, muttering little questions like does that hurt? How does that feel? as the others make their way towards the door. Joshua reminds Soonyoung he can’t walk the streets as a tiger, and the tiger becomes a pouting human again in seconds, and Seungkwan feels a wave of something sickening roll through his body. More shock? Absolute incomprehension?

“No, it’s not safe yet, you have to wait a few more days at least,” Vernon is murmuring to Junhui, standing again and walking to the door. Junhui looks back up at Seungkwan, who finds he can’t make direct eye contact with him.

“You too,” he says, quieter, pointing at the door. Jjamppong looks down at the floor, then limps away towards the doorway, where Joshua picks him up.

Seungkwan shuts the front door without another word, then slides down it to sit and listen to the party traipse away down the corridor. It leaves him alone in the silence of his apartment, no Jjamppong, no comforting background noise of the TV.

He sits there for a long time, not knowing quite what to do with himself.

-

Seungkwan doesn’t sleep that night and doesn’t go into work the next day. Everyone in the office must hear what’s happened, because he gets a short text from Jihoon and a long one from Seokmin and refuses to read either of them. He’s not sure he can face either one of them right now, digitally or otherwise.

Instead, he spends the day researching people who can turn into animals and half-convincing himself that yesterday was all a fever dream. He’s even close to believing it until he enters his kitchen and finds Junhui’s kitty litter, water bowl and cat bed still need tidying away. He can’t quite bring himself to get rid of the rat toy, even though he knows he has no use for it now, and looking at it only makes him feel a hot mix of distress-anger-humiliation in his gut.

What’s really the most unforgivable part of this whole deceit is that he’s been living with his co-worker for a week without knowing it. He can accept the possibility of a secret society of people who can turn into cats; what he can’t accept is the possibility that he was housing one for several days and he hadn’t known, hadn’t had any inkling of it, and hadn’t been told by anyone involved. That he’d bought cute Junhui from office seventeen a rat toy and sung very loudly in the shower around him and told him secrets because he’d trusted Jjamppong, the poor injured neighbourhood cat. Not because he wanted to do all those things for Junhui. He oscillates between embarrassment and fury about it all, and always ends up circling back into a well of uncertainty and mild despair.

It all adds up now, when he looks back on the past couple of weeks. Junhui’s absence and the missed date—the secrecy in the office too, he’s pretty sure this whole Chameleon Sanctuary thing fits in here somehow. Once he reaches the end of his internet sleuthing about animal people (which mostly turns up a bunch of strange art of people with cat ears), he finds himself both hungry for more information and desperate to get as far away from the office and its people as he can.

He ends up writing and sending Minghao a letter of resignation in the same hour as he finally reads both Seokmin’s and Jihoon’s texts. Seokmin’s is very long and apologetic, explaining that secrecy is very important for them to stay safe, and that they’d found it very hard to lie to Seungkwan, especially when he was so perceptive. He wishes he’d never had to lie at all, and feels very sorry that Seungkwan had to find out like this. Jihoon’s just says: anyone could’ve told Junhui this was a stupid idea, but he’s always been an optimist. Please don’t think badly of him. It only takes another ten minutes after that for Minghao to send him back an email rejecting his resignation and authorising three days of mental health leave instead, asking Seungkwan to come in and discuss this with him on Monday.

It looks like he’ll have to face the music either way. And it’s definitely not the fun, Weeekly kind of music. More like Skrillex, or something.

-

It’s a good thing he takes the time to prepare himself on Sunday afternoon, sitting on the Pilates mat and doing some yoga-slash-meditation mix he found on YouTube. That’s when there’s a knock on the door, timid but loud in the quiet of his lonely apartment. He pauses the meditating lady and glares at the door, like the person behind it might leave if he only pretends they’re not there.

They knock again a moment later, louder this time, and Seungkwan stands before he can get any flashbacks to That Day when the small shreds of normalcy in his life fell apart. He yanks the door open, expression straight, fully expecting it to be Jeonghan or Vernon back to drop another life-altering revelation on him.

It’s not. It’s Junhui, looking much more human again, a support bandage on his left arm and a bunch of flowers clutched between his hands. The flowers look suspiciously like they’ve been picked from a garden somewhere on his way here, but regardless his anger is immediately softened upon seeing them. No one has ever brought him flowers before.

“I’m sorry,” Junhui says, thrusting the homemade bouquet in his direction. “Can I explain? I really want to explain. I think you need to hear it.”

Seungkwan takes the flowers with one hand, holding his door further open wordlessly as he does. Junhui stands there for a moment, unsure whether it’s permission enough, and only scampers inside when Seungkwan gestures with his head. “Don’t just stand there. You have a lot of explaining to do.”

“Right,” Junhui says, pausing awkwardly in the middle of the room as Seungkwan fetches a vase from his shelf, taking it to the sink to put a little water in. “Yes. Where shall I start?”

“You can start by making yourself at home. You never had a problem with that before,” Seungkwan says, perhaps a little too mean. He’s half-surprised he’s feeling so calm about Junhui being here—angry, yes, but he’s ready to hear it all laid out for him now. He’s done enough waiting and wondering and theorising in all directions.

“Uh huh,” Junhui says, swallowing and taking a tentative seat on the empty half of the couch, opposite to where he knows Seungkwan usually sits. “Sorry—Seungkwan-ah, you have to know, I really didn’t want to betray your trust…”

Seungkwan comes to sit in his usual seat, crossing one leg over the other and surveying Junhui coolly. “You didn’t want to betray my trust by manipulating and lying to me?”

Junhui full-body cringes, rubbing his hands along the top of his thighs nervously. “That sounds bad, okay, yes, you’re right. I’m sorry. I had my reasons, which I want to explain to you, but… yes. I can see how this must’ve looked and felt from your end, and it’s not very good.”

“Hmm,” Seungkwan says, watching him closely. He’s realising for the first time that Junhui has the same greyish hair as his fur. “Explain, then.”

Junhui sits up straighter, turning to face Seungkwan properly. “Okay. So. Vernon-ah told you that this whole thing is a secret, right? We’re not supposed to let people in on it unless under extreme circumstances, so that’s why you and Chan-ssi were never told in the office. It’s just for our safety, you know, we’re not a very big population… but I thought, while I was staying with you, that I should tell you. Because it wasn’t very fair to you otherwise. So I tried to tell you, really—first on the iPad, then with the socks, do you remember? It’s hard when you don’t have opposable thumbs, but I’d spelled out my name for you! But you didn’t see. And that’s not your fault! Really, I was going to ask Vernon-ah to tell you when he came back to check on me, but… obviously that didn’t go to plan.”

“You have to stay in one form when sick or injured,” Seungkwan parrots. “That’s what Vernon-ie said.”

“Yes,” Junhui agrees quickly. “I was injured as a cat, so I had to stay a cat until I had healed enough. And you saw with Seungcheol-hyung—natural instinct comes out when we’re sick, he wanted to protect himself, you know. It’s kind of the same when I was hurt—I wanted protection and safety, instinctually. I wanted to stay in my building, but I couldn’t stay in the apartment with no one to look after me, so staying with you was the next best thing. And I trusted you to look after me…” Junhui ducks his head to look away from Seungkwan. “I should’ve asked Vernon-ah to tell you from the start, or at least get your permission, but I was more focused on the pain back then. I’m sorry.”

Seungkwan hates that his heart softens at Junhui’s awkward, apologetic stance, at the mention of his pain as a hindrance to Seungkwan’s wellbeing more than anything. He hates a little bit less that Junhui trusted Seungkwan to look after him, even back then, when the two of them had barely talked twice. The pride wells up despite himself, though he tries not to let it show.

“How is it? Your arm?”

Junhui looks down as if he’d forgotten about it. “Oh, much better. Thank you. That’s mostly thanks to you.”

“More Vernon-ie, I think.”

Junhui nods. “Him, too.”

Seungkwan sticks his tongue in his cheek. “Say I believe you, about the injury thing. That you tried to tell me. That still doesn’t explain everything that happened before then. You met me all the time after work as a cat, not as a man. You came into my apartment several times and sat with me. Even if you were sworn to secrecy, it was still your choice to do all that with me, knowing I wasn’t aware of who you really were.”

Junhui nods like a bobblehead, continually and nervously. “At first I was trying to get a sense of who you are as a person. You and Lee Chan-ssi are the first outsiders to work directly for Xu Industries other than sanctuary members or related family. I was visiting you to get a gauge of who you are, making sure you were okay to be around all our secrets. Wonwoo-ah did the same for to Chan-ssi, too. It wasn’t supposed to go on so long, but…” Junhui shrugs. “I liked you, and I wanted to hang around you more.”

“And you couldn’t have done it as a human?” Seungkwan asks, loud and accusatory to cover up the fact that he’s really quite flattered. Even if he did it in the worst way possible, Seungkwan can’t help but preen that Junhui had just wanted to hang around him. It’s hard not to believe Junhui has had the best intentions about this all along when he acts like this, all heart-on-his-sleeve honesty.

“I tried!” Junhui exclaims back. “I wanted to go out with you and talk with you and buy you food, so I asked you to come out with me, but then I missed it! Because of my injury! I’m sorry about that too, okay, it really sucked for both of us!”

“I can’t believe this,” Seungkwan groans, pushing his weight further back into the couch. “This is so typical of my life. A guy asks me out and can’t follow through because he’s stuck as a cat. A good company takes me on and it turns out everyone’s a supernatural being holding a giant collective secret from me. I move into an apartment and make my first friend in the form of a cat who turns out to be the ditched date, and no one ever thought to mention it to me.”

“I still want to do it,” Junhui blurts. “The date. If you want to. I’m well enough to be back at work now, so I can take you out too. We could even go for dinner today if you want...?”

“I don’t think I’m ready to forgive you yet,” he admits. His cheeks still burn to look at Junhui, and not in a good way, the betrayal that sits in his chest not quite quelled. He’s still processing everything that’s transpired over the last fortnight too, all the information that’s now slotting into place. “I don’t even know if I want to go back to work. I don’t think I can face it.”

Junhui’s whole demeanour wilts as he folds in on himself. “We don’t have to go out. You don’t have to look at me ever again, but please don’t leave the office. Jihoon-ah is always talking about how good you are at your job, and Seokmin-ah loves you, and karaoke was loads more fun with you there! Minghao doesn’t want to lose you either, I don’t want that to be because of me…”

“It’s not just because of you. Everyone in the office fed me the same lie. You’re all from the same place, aren’t you? This sanctuary? That’s why you’re all so close.”

Junhui nods. “I grew up with most of them. Xu Industries is our main support out on the island—what you thought was money laundering is just our livelihood. The company pays for everything we need, to keep us safe and secret while we grow up and prepare for life in real world. In return, everyone comes to work for the company when we’re old enough to graduate the island, and the company supports us in starting our lives in the city. It all fits together. The Xus are good people. I’m really glad you didn’t report it, it could’ve ruined everything.”

“You’ve got a whole community out there? On Byeongpungdo?”

“Yup. That’s home to me.”

“And the Xus set it up?”

Junhui shakes his head. “Seungcheol-hyung’s grandmother set it up. The Xus married into his family two generations ago, and now support them from the outside. Minghao is the same as you.”

Seungkwan raises his eyebrows. “Minghao-jeonmu isn’t a cat?”

“No,” Junhui says, almost laughing at the suggestion before he remembers he’s supposed to be admonished. “No, but most of the office are. Jeonghan-hyung and Seokmin-ah are both bunnies like Seungcheol-hyung, and Mingyu-ah is a beagle. Then you’ve got your outliers, like Soonyoung-ie…”

“Don’t talk to me about him,” Seungkwan says. He’s still trying to suppress that memory. “I get the picture.”

“Okay,” Junhui says meekly, though he looks a little brighter now. “But like I said, everyone at the office loves you, so please think about staying! At least come back this week. Ningning-ah has been complaining every day that you’re not in work.”

Seungkwan sighs. “I’ll come back tomorrow and see how it goes. I need to speak with Minghao-jeonmu anyway. I’m still not happy about all of this, but I’m glad you came to explain. I understand better now.”

“Good,” Junhui says, swallowing. “Like I said, it was hard for me too. I wanted to tell you so much… but at least you know now. It’ll make everything easier in the long run.”

“It would’ve been easier to clue me in from the start, but that’s one way to look at it.”

Junhui looks at him like he’s unsure if the remark is sarcastic or not. Seungkwan isn’t quite sure either, and bites down gently on his own tongue. He doesn’t mean to give Junhui a grilling—he can’t help it if he’s still spitting fire from being burned.

“I won’t stay,” Junhui says suddenly, standing and fiddling with the edge of his sleeves nervously. “I overstayed long ago. I just wanted to explain to you my side of things. And thank you, um, for taking care of me. It helped. I know you didn’t fully know the truth, but still… you were always kind to me.”

“You’re welcome,” Seungkwan says stiffly. While he’s not ready for any sort of commitment quite yet, he doesn’t want Junhui to leave on this sullen note—he doesn’t want things to crash and burn out this quickly. “Listen, Junhui-hyung, if this week goes well, and if I decide to stay on at Xu Industries—and that’s a big ‘if’, mind you—”

“Yes?”

“Then you can take me to the Chinese place on Saturday,” he says, aiming for an air of indifference and coming out somewhere around defensive insistence instead. “I hope you know how rarely I give men second chances.”

Junhui is looking at him, wide-eyed, like he’s told him a secret to the universe. “Saturday?”

“What, can’t you do Saturday?”

“No! That’s fine, I can do Saturday!”

“Okay, fine,” Seungkwan says, standing from the sofa and ushering him out of the door. Junhui stands several inches taller than him, but still scurries away as soon as Seungkwan starts to move. “You can go now.”

“I’ll go now,” Junhui agrees. “But I’ll see you tomorrow!”

“Yes, unfortunately, you will see me tomorrow,” Seungkwan says before shutting the front door in Junhui’s hopeful face. He has to bite down on his lip to stop the traitorous smile from spreading across his face.

-

“So,” he says when he enters Minghao’s office on Monday morning, sitting down in the seat opposite him heavily. “The cat’s out of the bag now.”

Minghao grimaces as he sits down soundlessly behind his desk. “I can see why Junhui likes you. Please save comments like that for him.”

“Sorry, sorry. I thought saying it to one of the cat-people might be a bit on the nose.”

“Trust me. Junhui will like it,” Minghao says, crossing his legs carefully as he sits back. “You seem in better spirits than when you sent me your resignation letter last week.”

“Yes, well. I’m over the shock now, mostly. I’ve accepted the universal truth that nothing will ever go right for me, nothing can ever be straightforward if it doesn’t have to be, and there are always weirder people than me in the world. So I’m feeling slightly more sane this week.”

“That’s good,” Minghao says agreeably. “Though I could’ve told you those last two from the start.”

“Good thing I know now, then!” Seungkwan exclaims, raising his hands from his lap to slap them once against his thighs. “It’s a relief, actually. I thought worse things were happening around here.”

“Things certainly could’ve gone worse than they did. I hope this change of mindset means you’re not going to be leaving us at the end of the week?”

He presses his lips together and nods slowly. “I’ll let you know. I like my job, and I like the people here. Now I’ve come to accept that it’s a bit of a zoo—I hope that’s not an offensive word to use?—I think I could settle in a second time around.”

“Good,” Minghao says. “Junhui would’ve been very disappointed otherwise. I think Jihoon may have been inconsolable.”

“I don’t think Jihoon-hyung likes me that much.”

“Trust me, I’ve never seen him speak to someone outside of his direct social circle so much in my life, and I practically grew up with him. He likes you. Everyone in the office does. If you’re afraid of being an outcast, you don’t have to be, Seungkwan. This place is made up of outcasts, and they’ll welcome you as family.”

Seungkwan goes quiet. He’d been thinking of it the other way around—that they would never want someone like him invading their safe space here in the company. But they’d come to the city to join the world properly, hadn’t they? And if Seungkwan has been the first real branch outside of their community for some of the people here, it must be upsetting to lose that. Junhui is too hopeful to bear it, Ningning too spirited, Seokmin too loving. Jihoon too, apparently, trusting and open in his own subtler ways. “I want to try again, for my own sake as much as theirs. But I still don’t really understand—why risk bringing an outsider into the company at all? Surely it only forced everyone to hide again?”

Minghao watches him closely, attentive. “It wasn’t a decision made lightly. The people here needed their horizons broadened, I thought the company could be aided by a fresh pair of eyes, and maybe, somewhere down the line, this would be the kindest way to integrate knowledge of the changelings into the wider world. Very slow integration, as safely as possible. I think my gamble has paid off with you and Chan. I wouldn’t have hired you if I didn’t trust you to be good people.”

“You took a real chance on us,” Seungkwan says. “And it was very nearly a disaster. Are you sure it’s best for me to stay now? You know I wouldn’t say anything, wouldn’t betray your secret even if I left…”

“I know. You should stay because we want you here. Only if you’re happy to, of course.”

Seungkwan doesn’t have an immediate reply to that, so he simply nods, standing to bow respectfully. “I’ll do my best, then.”

“I know,” Minghao replies, and then the conversation comes to an amicable close.

Stepping outside feels like being plunged back into the real world again, leaving behind the strange liminal space of Minghao’s office. People are starting to arrive for work now, and Seokmin zeroes in on him as soon as he steps back into the eighteenth-floor office space.

“Seungkwan-ah!” he exclaims, dropping his bag by his desk and striding across the room with arms wide open. “You’re here! And you’re here early!”

“I came in to talk to Minghao-jeonmu,” he explains, accepting Seokmin’s firm embrace. “But I’m here. I’m going to crunch so many numbers today, Jihoon-hyung isn’t ready for it.”

“I should hope so,” Jihoon says from the desk behind Seokmin. Seungkwan hadn’t noticed he was here already. There’s a smile in his voice, and he pushes back his seat so Seungkwan can see him over Seokmin’s shoulder. “You’ve got three days from last week to catch up on.”

“Sir, yes sir!” he says, standing to attention as Seokmin finally releases him to laugh.

“I’m so glad you’re back,” he admits, smile blinding. “You’re here to stay now, right?”

There’s a shrill scream as the elevator doors draw back to reveal Ningning, who starts running across the room to give him a hug too. “You’re back! I thought no one was going to listen to me talk about my new Amano shrimp!”

He accepts her hug too, staggering a little under the weight she throws at him, and feels something stifling lift from his chest for the first time in a while. He can’t remember why he ever dreaded coming back here now, when these people clearly know nothing but kindness and love.

“Don’t tell me your fish tank are really people too,” he says, pulling her away from him again to fix her with a look. “That would bring a whole new dynamic to your aquatic obsession.”

She laughs at him with sparkling eyes, clearly entertained by the idea. “No, silly, they’re just fish! I’m a cat, you think I have no interest in real fish?”

“You don’t know how relieved I am to hear that.”

There’s a light tinkling noise of a teaspoon against ceramic, and they all look over at the staff room in unison. Seokmin freezes in front of him, and Jihoon is left staring, wide-eyed. Standing in the doorway with a hot drink in hand is Lee Chan, leaning against the door frame casually. “So Seungkwan-hyung knows now? Can we talk about it openly?”

The three of them, along with the handful of others also settling at their desks in office, stay still and quiet for a few moments. Chan must’ve been here before all of them to get breakfast in the staff room, which means he’s heard everything.

“What do I know now?” Seungkwan asks innocently, breaking the tense silence. “About Ningning’s Amano shrimp…?”

“About the office species,” Chan says, taking a sip from his mug, and then quickly swallowing it to continue on. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s not that anyone told me without telling you! I just noticed the signs. I have some otter in the family, so I’m used to it. Xu industries regularly donates to a charity set up by my uncle, and Wonwoo-sunbaenim isn’t very subtle either, so it didn’t take much to connect the dots. I’m guessing someone told you recently, Seungkwan-hyung?”

Seungkwan gestures at him, speechless, then turns to look back at Minghao’s closed office door. He wants to drag him out here and point at Chan and say do you see this? Really?

“I was the only one, then!” Seungkwan exclaims, but he has to admit this is more funny than it is infuriating. Hilarious, and absolutely typical. “I was the only clueless one in the office!”

“You’re far from clueless,” Chan remarks. “No one could’ve guessed it unless you’re in the know. And now you are. Was it Junhui-sunbaenim?”

“It was Junhui,” Jihoon says for him. “You really knew this whole time?”

Chan shrugs lightly, a half-smile on his face. “Well, yeah.”

“That’s so cool!” Ningning says, and just like that, all the attention is taken from Seungkwan and redirected to Lee Chan. “So now everyone knows! We don’t have to keep any secrets anymore!”

“Are you by any chance related to River?” Seokmin asks. “And Blossom, that whole family?”

Chan brightens up in a second. “Yes, they’re my cousins!”

“But no changeling blood in you?”

“Not passed onto me, but always been a part of my life,” Chan says, coming across to sit as his desk. “We’re good to talk about it, right? Everyone’s caught up?”

“Yes, yes, everyone’s caught up, and as always I’m the last to know everything,” Seungkwan says, joining him at his own desk chair. Despite thinking he should probably be enraged by this development, he’s somehow comforted by it instead, knowing that they can start over this easily. Everyone on the same page, at last. “Tell us all about your family, Chan-ah.”

“I will,” Chan says, because he’s never needed anyone’s permission to do anything. “But he’s okay, isn’t he? Junhui-sunbaenim? You didn’t dump him or anything?”

“Dump him?” He did kind of kick him out of the apartment, but he doesn’t like that the implication was they were together for Junhui to be dumped in the first place. “He dumped me! I got ditched because of this cat business!”

“I’m sure he’ll make it up to you,” Chan says, infuriatingly knowing smile set in place. “I knew he was going to be a cat. I’ve heard Byeongpungdo is very cat heavy.”

“You and your family should come out and visit the sanctuary sometime! We don’t have any semi-aquatic types out there!” Seokmin says, leaning against Chan’s desk to speak to him.

“They’d love that!” Chan agrees, and then proceeds to spend the morning telling stories about growing up with his cousins, which most of the office seems to be listening to and pitching in on. Seungkwan doesn’t mind—it’s a relief not to have to keep their secret from Chan, who seems to know everything about everything.

The rest of the day goes fine. Fun, even, to be back with his overly friendly co-workers, now no longer suspiciously overly friendly but just innately loving. Everything slips back into normalcy easily enough—he wonders if everyone in the office could smell his apprehension before, and if they can smell his more composed state now. Maybe just the dogs? He’ll have to ask Junhui about the semantics of that.

Junhui himself is the only oddity about the day. He comes up to office eighteen on their lunch break, apparently to check whether Seungkwan had made it in for the day, looking very relieved when he spots him and swerves through the desks to reach him. He pulls up an empty chair and sits with Jihoon and Seungkwan for lunch, showing Seungkwan the gif he’d made that morning with way too many flashing effects. He also adds Chan and Seungkwan to the proper office group chat, the one he had suspected existed all along. As it turns out, there’s not so much gossip in there so much as there is bad memes and more of Junhui’s gifs.

That’s what settles it for him. That, yes, perhaps he can stay here and be happy, be a part of this office community. Maybe he can go out with Junhui and enjoy it. Maybe this can be his next big adventure, after all.

-

Junhui comes to knock on his door on Saturday, a proper bouquet of flowers in his hand this time, bright yellow and beautiful. When they leave his apartment, Seungkwan boldly takes him by the hand without pausing for breath as they’re taking the elevator together. Junhui looks surprised but pleased, and doesn’t interrupt him to comment on it, only swings their clasped hands between them happily.

They’re walking to this Chinese place Junhui knows, because it’s apparently close enough to walk, and a nice enough day outside to enjoy the weather. He still half-expects to see Jjamppong sat on the wall outside whenever he leaves or enters the apartment building, and even now glances at his usual spot. There’s a different cat sat further up the wall, but obviously no Jjamppong.

“Oh, hello,” Seungkwan says, bowing politely to the cat. “You sit just like Junhui-hyung. Do you know him?” He turns to Junhui. “Is this a friend?”

“Um, no,” Junhui says, blinking a few times. “She’s just a cat.”

“I’m not falling for that again. Is this Yeji-ssi, or someone?”

“No, she’s really just a cat,” Junhui says, pointing at her little collar. “Look, her name is Whiskers. None of us wear things like that.”

“Right,” Seungkwan says, standing up straight and waving to the cat half-heartedly, then pulling Junhui down the street when the cat just blinks and Junhui just laughs. “Why did you sit there so often, then? What’s so interesting about the wall?”

“Partially for cat instinct reasons. Not wanting to be cooped up and scoping out what’s happening in your area feels important to you as a cat. That’s why I was there the day you moved in, but I didn’t know it was you then—our first meeting was by total chance. People stop and talk to you way more when you’re a cat, too, so it’s kind of fun to get the attention.”

“Okay, but here’s the real question—why did you fall, that time? I still can’t figure that bit out. Why were you so surprised when you were the one who asked me on the damn date anyway?”

“Because you called it a date! I didn’t know you were interested at all, I didn’t realise you saw it as a date even though I wanted it to be, you just surprised me when you said it so easily like that...”

“Oh, baby,” Seungkwan laughs, Junhui ducking his head and pulling a face at him. “So why did you keep coming back in the first place? Why were you always sitting there when you knew I would come by?”

Junhui shrugs, looking away from Seungkwan. “After the first time, I came back because I wanted to meet you after work. Come and sit with you in the apartment without the whole awkward human thing… I liked it, and I thought you liked me better as a cat too, so…”

“I can’t believe you wanted to hang out with me after I locked you in the apartment that first time. And I can’t believe you thought that was good enough reasoning! I didn’t know you as a human, we’d barely spoken, that’s why I seemed friendlier to the local cat!”

“I know, I know! I don’t exactly do it often. You were just so…”

Seungkwan grins slyly in his direction, raising his eyebrows. “Come on, you can say it. I already know I’m special.”

“I was actually going to say you were lonely. And interesting.”

“Wow, Hyung, you know how to charm a boy,” he deadpans. “So I was lonely enough to take pity on, but interesting enough to sneak into my bed most nights you were there?”

“It wasn’t like that! I was a cat!” Junhui moans. “I told you—!”

“I know, I know, I’m teasing,” he says, pulling Junhui closer just to enjoy how pink his cheeks are. He’s so defensive when flustered, it’s kind of hilarious. “Don’t worry. We’re starting fresh from today. This is your take two at trying to impress me.”

“I’m going to do it all right now,” Junhui says, taking his voice down a few notches into sincerity. “Really, properly.”

“I know,” he says, giving him a look side-on. “I believe you.”

He does do it properly. They have a nice meal that Junhui pays for, followed up by a walk around the nightlife of Gwangju. There’s no more cat talk, no office talk—he just comes to learn that Junhui loves spicy foods, web novels and anime, while Seungkwan tells him about his girl groups, his sisters, his childhood on Jeju. Junhui is overjoyed that Seungkwan is an island boy just like him, even if it’s in a slightly different way.

At the end of the day, Junhui walks him to his apartment door, and Seungkwan invites him in. They sit and watch Amazing Saturday together with hot drinks in hand, squashed close together on the sofa—it doesn’t take much for Seungkwan to shuffle in close, lean over, place his head on Junhui’s shoulder and throw a leg over his…

And just like that, it’s like nothing has really changed. It’s him and his cat, Seungkwan and his Junhui, cuddling on the sofa and watching TV. They laugh at the funny parts and talk when it’s slow, and it’s easy. The simple domesticity of it all makes him turn his head into Junhui’s shoulder to hide his pleased smile, but the movement only makes Junhui look down at him and grin back.

Yeah, he thinks. Maybe he can fall in love like this.