It was a Thursday evening, just past 10PM. Miles should have left an hour ago but Hee-soon had asked him to stay late to prep for the dinner meeting the following night. Miles had agreed immediately and now he was in the kitchen, sleeves rolled up, working on a marinade that smelled extraordinary.
Hee-soon sat at the dining table with his laptop. He was not working at all.
"Sir?" Miles called.
Hee-soon looked up. Miles stood a few feet away, wiping his hands on a kitchen towel. His white vest had a small smudge of something on it. There was a faint shine on his forehead from the heat of the stove. He looked completely unbothered by his own attractiveness.
"Yes, what is it?" Hee-soon cleared his throat.
"The dinner tomorrow,"
"Uhm." He nodded. "What about it?"
"....you said there'll be eight guests right? Are there any dietary restrictions I should know about?"
"Oh yes. Thank you for bringing it up. Put this down so you don't forget."
Miles nodded and was about to run to find any piece of paper when Hee-soon quickly handed him one along with a pen. It was a cute pen from Miles's favorite Kpop group, TWICE.
Miles gasped silently, trying very hard to hide his excitement. Hee-soon smirked because he already knew. Miles blasted their music every now and then without shame.
"Ready?"
Miles nodded.
"Alright. There would be two vegetarians....."
Miles nodded, carefully writing everything down as Hee-soon spoke and instructed him on what should be done.
"....also, one's got a shellfish allergy. As for the rest, we eat anything. Me included."
Miles chuckled as he wrote it down. Hee-soon watched him write as he tried to control his laughter.
'Why is he so adorable?' Hee-soon thought and immediately looked back at his laptop.
"Got it," Miles said, looking up. His eyes caught Hee-soon's for half a second before he looked away. "I'll have everything prepped before I leave tonight."
"Good."
"Your pen, Sir." Miles said sadly, extending it back.
Hee-soon looked at the pen. Then at Miles. Then he leaned back in his chair. "You can keep it."
Miles blinked. "S-Sir?"
"You clearly need it more than I do." He added a playful wink. "You're a fan aren't you?"
Miles looked down at the pen in his hand, then back up, and for one unguarded second he nodded and smiled. Hee-soon looked back at his laptop immediately.
'Stop smiling like that,' he told himself.
"You may continue with your work." Hee-soon said, standing with his laptop and heading toward the staircase.
Miles bowed and turned back toward the counter, reaching for the bowl of prepped ingredients when suddenly, Hee-soon's phone rang.
It was unexpectedly, outrageously, startlingly loud in the quiet penthouse and it startled Miles.
He jumped, lost his footing on the kitchen tiles and stumbled sideways, his elbow catching the edge of the counter. The glass bowls on the counter shook and fell, directly headed for his head. Everything was happening so fast.
Except.
Something caught him just before he hit the ground.
An arm hooked around his waist and pulling him sharply backward and away in one clean motion and then the bowls came down, hitting the marble floor in an explosion of glass and scattered ingredients that echoed through the entire penthouse. It fell exactly where he would have fallen had he not been saved.
Miles stood, breathing hard, his back pressed against Hee-soon's chest, the arm still around his waist, both of them completely still. Then Hee-soon's grip tightened slightly.
"Are you hurt?" His voice was right at Miles's ear.
"I..." Miles swallowed. "I don't... I think I'm..."
Hee-soon turned him around. Both hands came up to Miles's face, tilting it up, scanning it with an expression Miles had never seen on him before. Something like panic.
His thumbs moved across Miles's cheekbones, brushing away a dusting of flour that had scattered in the crash, and Miles felt each point of contact like something electric and unbearable.
"Look at me," Hee-soon said quietly.
Miles looked at him.
That was a mistake. This close, Hee-soon's eyes were dark and very serious and completely focused on Miles in a way that had nothing to do with checking for injuries anymore and they both knew it.
Miles's hands had found Hee-soon's forearms at some point without his permission, gripping lightly, and he hadn't let go.
"I-I'm okay," Miles said. The words came out barely above a whisper. "I'm... thank you, Chairman, I'm so sorry, I'll clean this up right now..."
He tried to step back. His ankle protested immediately. The pain was sharp and sudden and he hissed through his teeth.
"Miles. You're not okay." Hee-soon's hands dropped to his waist again, steadying. "Please, sit down."
"It's fine..."
"Miles."
Just his name and that was all. But the way Hee-soon said it in that moment, melted Miles completely.
For some reason, his mind traveled back suddenly to Chapter four of 'My Marriage Contract to a Mafia boss.'
To the particular scene where Charles falls in the kitchen and Hee-soon...
'No way!'
"I really should clean this up, Sir." Miles said, pulling back, ignoring the protest in his ankle. He ignored everything. "I'm so sorry. I'll have it sorted in..."
Hee-soon's phone rang again from the floor where it had fallen, screen cracked down the middle, still screaming.
They both looked at it. Miles stole the chance to get further away from him.
Hee-soon moved in the direction of the sound. Jaw tight as he reached down for the phone. He looked at the screen. Then at Miles once more like he was seeking permission to answer the call.
Miles looked away before Hee-soon answered his call.
"Yes." His voice was completely even again. "I'm here."
He walked toward the staircase, heading for his office.
Miles stood alone in the wrecked kitchen. Glasses all around his feet, flour on his face. An ankle aching. His heart racing.
'What just happened?!'
He cleaned up the kitchen, carefully clearing every piece of glass. He did it all slowly and carefully and did not think about Hee-soon's hands on his face or the way his voice had sounded when he asked if he was okay or when he pleaded with him to sit down.
He did not think about chapter four. He especially did not think about chapter four.
He grabbed his things and limped to the elevator.
"Miles?" Hee-soon raced down the stairs. He ran straight to the kitchen but found no one there.
He ran to the sitting room and looked out the window and spotted Miles already walking out the gate.
"Shit!" He cursed silently. "We didn't get to finish what we started."
He ran a hand through his long white hair and smiled at his reflection on the window.
Hee-soon stood at the window for a long moment after Miles disappeared through the gate below. He watched closely until he couldn't see him anymore.
He strolled in the kitchen and nodded delightfully. The kitchen was spotless. Miles cleared everything neatly. Even with a hurt ankle, he still did an excellent job.
'Well, of course he did.' Hee-soon smiled. As he passed the counter, he looked down at his hand. The one that had touched Miles's face.
'Flour. Really?' he told himself. 'You were just brushing away flour off his face huh?'
He laughed quietly at his own lie.
'Miles Conner,' he thought simply. 'This is going to be very interesting.'