Fashioned For Love | Minsung AU

Seven

~~~~~ 7~~~~~

Apparently Han Jisung took his words to heart, because in the days that followed, he'd done his job with the same talented proficiency that he's done these past few months. There was just one thing missing: the very essence that made Mr. Han, Han. When he arrived in the morning his coffee was ready and waiting, piping hot and it was made just how he liked it, but there was no greeting from his assistant aside from a short, perfunctory nod of his head. Not that brilliant smile he'd gotten used to seeing. His assistant would rattle off the day's schedule and give a synopsis of any messages left for him, but now he didn't lace in any commentary or jokes. And whenever he was out of the office running errands, he didn't send Chan or anyone else up to his office with food. And Minho knew he couldn't get upset, because he told him not to worry about doing that.

He also wasn't in his office anymore.

Minho hadn't realized how quickly he'd come to rely on the fact that Han would stay in his office, quietly doing his work from the opposite side of the room on the couch. He missed his presence in the room. Missed the ease in which he could summon him to his side or ask his opinion on something. And again, it's not like he could reasonably demand him to come back since Han was technically at his assigned desk just outside his door. And to top it all off, his migraines had been damn near debilitating this week. His last visit to the doctor had been fruitless as well, they told him to lower his stress level and maybe exercise more to produce healthier hormones for his brain. Perhaps lower his coffee intake....that last part irritated him even more because it made him think about Mr. Han. Guilt flooded his body as he thought about how his assistant had just been looking out for him, but he pushed him away out of fear.

And he felt like a petulant child because now he wanted him back.

Maybe that's why he'd been snapping at everyone over the tiniest thing for the last few days. He knew his employees had been walking on eggshells and even Bang Chan had a few words with him. But he wasn't ready to admit that he was wrong. "Sir, I have those trend reports you requested," Mr. Han announced as he came in. Right then a powerfully painful throbbing sensation began in his head. Minho's face scrunched in pain and he sighed, falling forward on his desk heavily. "Mr. Lee!"

Minho raised up and halted Han's actions with a hand, "I'm fine," he lied, rubbing at his temples. "T-Thank you for the reports. Can you fetch me my medicine please?"

"Of course," Han said quickly, the straining in his tone breaking the cold, nonchalant way he'd been expressing himself these last few days. He passed him the medicine, worry evident in his eyes and Minho wanted to rejoice in the fact that he still cared but he couldn't focus on anything but the pain right now. "Can I....can I try something sir?"

Minho tilted his head slightly, "Like what?"

"A massage." Immediately Lee Know scowled, but Mr. Han continued, "I can see the tightness in your face, your shoulders are high and I know how much stress you're under. I know...I know you told me not to care, but I can't help it. Let me try to ease your pain Mr. Lee."

At this point he was in no position to say no, frankly he'd accept any help for his torment. Han gestured for him to take his jacket off and Minho obeyed, loosening his tie and undoing the first few buttons on his shirt. Then Han gestured for him to sit up in the chair before he began. His assistant started with long, light strokes to his neck and shoulders. Every so often running his fingers through Minho's surprisingly silky dark auburn hair. Moving back down to his neck, Minho could feel his fingertips at the base where the head and neck met up. Han slid his fingers down his neck, sweeping over onto his shoulders applying even pressure throughout.

As suspected there were hard knots in his muscle, and Han expertly placed his thumbs on the tension knot, applying pressure. He kneaded his broad shoulders in a circular motion to release the tension and Minho sighed and leaned into his touch ever so slightly. He could feel Jisung smile even without the faint amused hum that came from his assistant. He might've been embarrassed by his open vulnerability but Minho didn't want to do anything to stop the way Han slid his hands up and down his neck repeating the process. "Doesn't this feel good?" he whispered into Minho's ear, again with the amused tone, clearly taking pleasure in stroking, kneading and caressing his flesh. It felt seductive too, but that might just be wishful thinking on Minho's part.

Slowly, he felt as his assistant nudged his shirt off his shoulders and Minho smirked at the slight gasp that left Han's lips. Presumably from the sight of his leanly muscular frame. And then Han made him lean forward as he massaged lower and lower on his back. Bless him, was all Minho could think as the massage continued. Han would go down some and then work his way back up, repeating the process going further down each time. Minho could hardly keep from moaning at his touch, the excruciating aching in his head having long gone and replaced with the pleasure and relief rippling through his body. Presumably he must've felt he had gotten all the knots, as Han returned to his head, giving him a brief scalp massage that felt reminiscent of the kind Minho gave to his cats. "All done," he announced, one hand resting on his bare shoulder, the other still stroking his hair.

It felt too good and he hated that it would have to end. Han Jisung was a treasure, one that he'd almost let slip through his fingers. "I'm sorry for telling you not to care," he whispered, reaching up to caress the hand resting on his shoulder. "The truth is, I need a friend like you."

"Then you'll have me," came Han's breathy promise, lacing their fingers together. "I'll be your friend, Mr. Lee."

Hearing such a formal title in an intimate moment like this felt wrong and Minho turned and crane his neck to look up at Han. He was met with his assistant's beautifully soft, doe eyed gaze and he smiled, "Please, from now on when we're alone, call me Minho."

That radiant smile he'd been yearning for all these days returned, looking more dazzling than ever. Han's free hand stroked his hair in an affectionate and indulgent way, "As you wish, Minho."

And suddenly, all was right in the world.

Things changed between them from that day on, subtly, but significantly enough for Minho to notice. Yes, Han had returned to doing what he'd done before, but it was different. Perhaps it was the hand he sometimes placed on his shoulder whenever he'd call him over to look at something. Or maybe it was the way he'd say his name. The smile that always formed on his mouth as if it pleased him to say it just as much as it pleased Minho to hear it. The headaches hadn't come back either. And now he dutifully drank the tea whenever Han determined that he'd had enough coffee for the day. "Han..."

"Yes sir?" His assistant called out, looking up from his tablet.

"Bang Chan has informed me that we've been invited to an industry party coming up in a few days."

Han chewed his lip in an adorable way that made Minho want to come over and do it himself, "And by we you mean..."

"Me and you," Minho confirmed, "It's a party but also a networking event so loads of people will have their assistants with them. Hyunjin is coming so you'll have a friend there," he added, quickly. "It's not a requirement but I'm hoping that you will accept."

"Of course I'll go," Han said brightly, but then that anxious look came back. "Is...is it a fancy party? I'm afraid I don't own too many nice things. I wouldn't want to embarrass you."

Minho shook his head, "I think you have impeccable taste, but I wouldn't want you to feel uncomfortable because you're not wearing designer clothes." He knew that's what he'd been hinting at. He never said anything about Han's wardrobe before, mainly because the guy was stylish no matter where he bought his outfits from. But among such a high falutin crowd he could see how that would be intimidating. "How about I take you shopping for something suitable to wear? Consider it an extended apology for my behavior."

Han's eyes widened and he shook his head, "No, no, no I can't accept that. Besides, I've already forgiven you for that. We're friends now Minho, that stuff is water under the bridge."

Minho rolled his eyes, hopefully covering up the big smile Han's words produced, "Then consider it a thank you for being such a good friend to me. I want you at that party Han, and as your boss, I'm not taking no for an answer."