When Sparks Fly

The Tension Begins

Jeonghan strolled into the meeting room five minutes late, not a hair out of place. Punctuality was for people with something to prove. He preferred to make an entrance. His scarf—a perfect pop of color against his otherwise understated outfit—was draped just so, and his coffee cup was already half-empty, a prop in his act of casual indifference.

Seungcheol, on the other hand, was the picture of professional perfection. Seated at the head of the table, he had a notebook open in front of him, his pen poised mid-thought as he glanced at Jeonghan's arrival. The look he gave was one Jeonghan had seen countless times—a mixture of disapproval and resignation, like a parent whose teenager had just rolled in past curfew.

"You're late," Seungcheol said, his voice steady and unamused.

Jeonghan's lips curved into a smile as he slid into the seat across from him. "Five minutes? Relax. The world's still spinning."

Seungcheol exhaled sharply, clearly trying to keep his irritation in check. "We agreed on three o'clock."

"And it's, what? Three-oh-five?" Jeonghan checked his watch dramatically. "Wow, call the authorities. The horror."

Mingyu, seated a few chairs down, barely managed to stifle his laugh. He loved watching these two clash—it was like a live-action rom-com, and he had front-row seats.

"Do you ever take anything seriously, Jeonghan?" Seungcheol asked, pinning him with a pointed stare.

Jeonghan leaned back in his chair, crossing one leg over the other with the grace of someone who had no intention of answering the question directly. "Oh, I take plenty of things seriously. Coffee, for instance." He lifted his cup in a mock toast. "And my beauty sleep, which you interrupted with this meeting."

Seungcheol shook his head, his patience wearing thin. "We have a lot to cover today. Can we focus?"

Jeonghan made a show of straightening in his seat, clasping his hands on the table like an obedient student. "I'm all ears, boss."

Seungcheol slid a thick folder across the table, his movements sharp and efficient. "This is the vendor list. We need to finalize selections for the gala."

Jeonghan picked up the folder and flipped it open lazily, his eyes skimming the neatly typed pages. "Wow, riveting stuff. Did you use a ruler to line up the margins?"

Seungcheol didn't even blink. "Just pick your top three options for each category."

Jeonghan shut the folder with a snap and smiled sweetly. "You know, your charm could use some work. A 'please' wouldn't hurt."

Seungcheol leaned back in his chair, arms crossed. "Please," he said flatly, though his tone made it clear he was anything but amused.

"There it is!" Jeonghan exclaimed, grinning. "See? Progress. You're learning."

The meeting dragged on, with Jeonghan finding new ways to test Seungcheol's patience every five minutes.

"Do we really need floral centerpieces on every table?" Jeonghan asked, resting his chin on his hand. "Seems wasteful. People barely notice those things."

"It's about creating an atmosphere," Seungcheol replied without looking up from his notes.

Jeonghan tilted his head, a mischievous gleam in his eye. "Are you planning a career in event design, or is this just a secret passion project?"

Mingyu, who had been sitting quietly up to this point, snorted loudly.

Seungcheol glanced at his younger brother with a raised eyebrow. "Do you have something to contribute, or are you just here for the show?"

Mingyu grinned, unrepentant. "Oh, I'm just enjoying the dynamic. You two are like an old married couple."

Jeonghan gasped, clutching his chest dramatically. "How dare you! I'm far too young and fabulous for such comparisons."

Seungcheol sighed heavily, rubbing his temples. "Let's just get through the list."

By the end of the meeting, Seungcheol looked like he was barely holding it together. Jeonghan, on the other hand, was positively glowing, as if he thrived on the chaos he'd just caused.

"Great talk, everyone," Jeonghan said, standing and slinging his bag over his shoulder. He flashed Seungcheol a cheeky smile. "Don't miss me too much."

As he sauntered out, Seungcheol turned to Mingyu, who was grinning like an overexcited puppy.

"Don't say it," Seungcheol warned.

Mingyu leaned back in his chair, hands behind his head. "You're gonna marry that guy one day."

Seungcheol groaned, picking up the vendor list and burying his face in it.

Jeonghan wandered into the break room later, in search of his second coffee fix of the day. He was mid-stir when Wonwoo, his quiet but observant brother, walked in.

"You survived the meeting with Seungcheol," Wonwoo said, setting a folder down on the counter.

"Barely," Jeonghan replied, blowing on his coffee. "He's like a human spreadsheet. So efficient it's exhausting."

Wonwoo smirked. "And yet you spend all your time trying to push his buttons."

Jeonghan gasped in mock offense. "I do not! I'm simply bringing some much-needed entertainment to his boring existence."

Before Wonwoo could respond, Mingyu bounded into the room like an overexcited golden retriever.

"You should've seen him after you left," Mingyu said, pointing at Jeonghan. "He tried so hard to look annoyed, but I swear he was holding back a smile."

Jeonghan raised an eyebrow. "Seungcheol? Smiling? Don't be ridiculous. His face would crack."

Mingyu shrugged, grabbing a soda from the fridge. "Hey, I'm just saying what I saw. You get under his skin, but I think he likes it."

Wonwoo chuckled softly. "They're like opposites in a rom-com."

Jeonghan scoffed. "This isn't a rom-com. This is a tragedy, and I'm the misunderstood protagonist."

"Sure you are," Mingyu teased.

Meanwhile, in his office, Seungcheol was staring at Jeonghan's hastily scribbled notes on the vendor list. His handwriting was atrocious, but somehow, it made Seungcheol smile.

"He's impossible," Seungcheol muttered, shaking his head. But even as he said it, there was a flicker of something else in his expression—something closer to amusement than annoyance.

Because as much as Jeonghan drove him up the wall, Seungcheol couldn't deny that the office felt a little more alive whenever he was around. And though he'd never admit it, he was already bracing himself for their next meeting.