too many papers, too little time

5.

"Yuta."

The named boy furrowed his brows in confusion and tilted his head simply because he didn't think that anyone would still be there. He turned around, eyes widening as he noticed Taeyong walking towards him with the same expression.

"Sir." Yuta mumbled as his head tilted down to form a small bow in respect of the other man. "What are you doing here? It's late and I thought you went home hours ago."

Taeyong laughed quietly as he ran a hand through his hair, his tired eyes glistening against the dim lights. "I could ask you the same thing." Yuta nibbled on his bottom lip as he prepared for the boss to start yelling at him. "You've been sleeping here, haven't you, Yuta?" The boss smirked slightly.

Yuta thought he was secretive enough and didn't think Taeyong knew about his whereabouts. He felt his cheeks suddenly heat up and looked down as if he was looking at his shoe laces in an attempt to cover his blush. Taeyong smiled at the boy's antics and reached forward, fingers tapping under Yuta's chin.

"I've noticed how late you've been sending emails too; three or four in the morning?" Taeyong questioned as he retracted his fingers once Yuta was now looking up at him, cheeks flushed red and his eyes wide and frantic. "I really appreciate all of the work you do but I don't want you overworking yourself, Yuta."

The pout on his boss's lips seemed to get bigger the more he talked about the topic, causing Yuta to avert his eyes; biting his lips. Yuta would've loved to be anywhere else but where he is at the current moment in time. He knew, he knew his face was slowly getting redder like a tomato and Taeyong's expression wasn't helping him at all. Just to make the situation even more awkward, Yuta couldn't even muster up a simple sentence; he was past tired and his mind was all over the place due to both the lack of proper sleep and the excess amounts of coffee he has been living on. If he couldn't smell the strong cologne sprayed all over Taeyong, he would one hundred percent think he was just dreaming.

The only time Yuta would see Taeyong was when he was with the others in the office whether it be a group meeting or Taeyong thundering into the work room to yell at them all; and it wasn't a pleasant sight to witness. However the pair would sometimes come face to face, sometimes it was Taeyong telling Yuta how well he's doing or it was Yuta going to Taeyong to ask about the company. Yuta would raise a sweaty palm and knock on his office door, peeking a head inside to see if he was there and would often repeat what he was supposed to ask to stop himself from becoming a flustered mess. They would chat but not for long until Yuta would ask the specific question which he would get a reply of yes, no or a sharp nod of his head; he would usually be chewing on the end of a pen and repeatedly running his hand through his hair as he gave Yuta a warm smile.

However, this was different. Yuta was practically against the door for both a support and Taeyong's surprise appearance, his hands grabbing at his bag which kept falling off of his shoulder whilst his blazer was carelessly slung across his opposing elbow. The main lights of the office had automatically went out ages ago, making the hallways lights their only source of light as the two stared at each other. Yuta's eyes were on the verge of shutting at any second and he was sure the bags under his eyes were down to his chin, displaying numerous different unpleasant colours. His light pink hair was a mess and was in desperate need of washing and maybe a new dye job since the lack of showering and sweat made it fade even more. On the other hand Taeyong didn't look any better, he might've actually looked worse than Yuta. His own hair was ruffled and some pieces fell messily onto his forehead; his tie was undone and hung around his neck with the top two buttons of his now wrinkled shirt undone, giving Yuta a sneak peak at Taeyong's collarbones.

"I-I'm sorry, I promise won't do it again." He managed to whisper out, his eyes looking down at Taeyong's hands which loosely had hold of his own bag.

"You're actually going home now, right?" Taeyong asked and Yuta nodded, jumping slightly as he felt Taeyong put his hand on his shoulder. "Let me walk you out safely."

The classic elevator music played softly throughout the elevator as the pair got in for the descent to ground floor. The entire time they were stood in opposing corners, Yuta kept reminding himself that this meant nothing to Taeyong and that it was just an act of kindness. Taeyong was the type of person to walk anyone out if it was late, it was just his nature. His thoughts might be scrambled but these were the only ones that made sense to him; what if it was because it was Yuta and no one else. Yuta was one of his favourite employees simply because he rarely got scolded and actually did his work, he even heard the others in the office say that about him. This whole situation was Taeyong being nice since Yuta had been overworking so much.

"Yuta." Taeyong's hand was once again on Yuta's shoulder as they stepped out of the elevator. The bright lights from the reception gave Yuta the opportunity to see just how tired Taeyong really was, and he looked almost as bad as Yuta does. His eyes were bloodshot and his hands seem to shake slightly once he lifted one to rub at his eyes. "You're still coming to the party this Friday right?" He asked whilst Yuta nodded, hands grabbing at the bag strap that had fell down once again. "Good. I guess I'll see you then." Taeyong's mouth warped into one of a smile.

Yuta watched as the other man began to walk away slowly, his shoes making small but audible taps against the tiled floor until he reached the exit. He walked behind him and muttered a small thank you to Taeyong who held the door open for him. The boss continued to walk but abruptly stopped in his tracks, turning his around to look back at his employee. "Have a good night and get home safely." He spoke softly, waving at him before walking off. Yuta waved back until he was out of sight and let out a small whine, throwing his head back in frustration.

Why does it have to be me?