---
It had been two weeks since Aiden and Sion last spent time outside work.
The air between them had changed—not in loud, obvious ways, but in quiet shifts. Like how Sion now only assigned Aiden to projects that required close collaboration. Or how Sion would sometimes stand just a little too close when reviewing designs, his voice dropping in tone when speaking only to Aiden.
Aiden didn't know what to make of it.
He was confused.
Was Sion really… Shinomi?
There were signs. Sion had habits—like sipping from Aiden's coffee cup as if it were second nature, or trying to steal a bite from his bento during lunch breaks, only to earn a quick glare in return.
"Can you not do that?" Aiden scolded one day, yanking the cup back. "Get your own."
"But yours tastes better," Sion mumbled, completely unbothered.
Aiden stared at him. The way he said it… the way he pouted like a kicked puppy…
Just like Shinomi.
But it didn't make sense. That was a dream. A story. A fantasy.
Wasn't it?
---
The day of the company feast arrived, and Aiden had absolutely zero plans to attend.
He hated crowds, the forced laughter, the polite gossip.
But then Sion showed up in front of his desk—black button-up shirt, sleeves rolled, the faintest smirk on his lips.
"Get up," Sion said.
Aiden blinked. "I'm not going."
"You are. With me."
"I'm not dressed."
"I brought something for you."
"You what—?"
Minutes later, Aiden was dragged into the CEO's private car with a change of clothes in his lap and Miso curled up in a tiny pet bag that Sion had also somehow prepared in advance.
"You planned this," Aiden muttered as they drove.
"I did," Sion said simply. "Because I want you there."
"But why me?"
Sion looked at him for a long, silent moment before replying softly, "Because you're the only one I want beside me in a crowd."
Aiden's heart thudded in his chest.
He turned his face away, pretending to focus on the skyline as it flickered past the windows, but his thoughts were a storm.
Was he just imagining the look in Sion's eyes?
---
The venue was lavish, shimmering lights hanging from a glass ceiling, soft music echoing around.
People turned when they entered—especially because Sion placed his hand on Aiden's lower back as they walked in.
Aiden gave him a warning look, but Sion didn't care. He leaned down and whispered, "Just pretend we're here for the food."
"I'm only here for the food," Aiden snapped back.
"You're cute when you lie."
Aiden nearly choked.
---
The night passed in a daze. Waiters swirled around with wine and trays of expensive finger foods. Aiden stuck to the buffet table, trying to keep a low profile.
But Sion… didn't leave his side.
He kept leaning in to talk, reaching for the same items Aiden wanted, teasing him under his breath about his food preferences, brushing fingers when handing him napkins.
At one point, Sion picked up a cupcake, peeled the wrapper halfway, and held it up. "Want the first bite?"
Aiden gave him a deadpan stare. "No."
"Too bad." And Sion took a big bite… from Aiden's plate.
"Seriously?" Aiden hissed, grabbing the plate away.
"I shared," Sion said innocently, licking frosting from his lip.
Aiden turned away before he could see his own reaction reflected in the polished windows—because his face was burning.
He didn't understand what was happening.
But if this was a game, Sion was playing it well—and Aiden wasn't sure how much longer he could pretend it didn't affect him.
---