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writetomyheart2015-09-06 11:35 pm
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[Team Five] Loopholes
I'm back! With something I promised myself I would never write lol :D
Almost there and yet elusive, that's what Baekhyun's mentor always called loopholes in contracts, especially when they needed to find one. Yet he was still so good at seeing them. Baekhyun, now independent associate, feels his mentor's strategy failing.
"There are no loopholes," he tells the empty office. It's way too late to be sitting in his office chair and peering at too small text, and honestly Baekhyun is much better in a court room, arguing his case and twisting truths and playing things up, than he is wading through pages and pages of clauses that seem to aim to cover even the absolutely improbable causes.
"Aren't you a bit too young to already be talking to yourself?" a deep voice says from the door.
"Chanyeol," Baekhyun says, his eye twitching. Chanyeol is smiling, smugly. He's here in the office, as late as Baekhyun, but it seems whatever his own cause was, he was successful.
Always successful. Chanyeol loves this shit, writing contracts, reading contracts. He hates going to court, claiming he's too cheerful for such a dull and serious place, but give him a project, to lead a company through a merger, due diligence, start up about to be sold to a big company, creating a legal frame for some new crazy project, and he's .... insufferably great.
It's annoying. It's spoiling Baekhyun's ambition to become the youngest partner in the firm. Where Baekhyun's good at the fight, at damage control, Chanyeol's good at prevention and making sure no damage control is needed. With the fucked up, too lengthy procedure of the judicial system, it seems the current partners are starting to appreciate Chanyeol more, and clients too seek more of prevention than frustrating court battles.
And so cheerful, always smiling, tall, low voiced, big eared, so very earnest Chanyeol is Baekhyun's worst enemy. He's also closest to what Baekhyun would call friend in the volatile environment of the firm, where they started as interns together, became junior lawyers and associates together. Only now there's going to be only one new partner, and Chanyeol's standing in the doorway, smug and happy and looking like he hasn't spent over twelve hours in the office at all, and Baekhyun just wants ... a hug.
Chanyeol moves inside, and only now Baekhyun realizes that he's carrying a cup with something steaming in it.
"Tea," he deadpans.
"It's absolutely too late for coffee."
Chanyeol slides to sit in one of the conference chairs on the other side of Baekhyun's long table and puts the cup right in front of Baekhyun. It's the herb mix that Chanyeol's mom always sends him, ahs been sending him for years now.
"Go away," Baekhyun says, looking down at the contract, lines blurring. He's taken on this project to prove he can do this too, what Chanyeol does so well, but now he thinks it's been the stupidest idea ever. The tea in the cup brings back memories of the two of them poring over contracts and briefs and research when they were just juniors in the firm, and dreaming of work hours--at least--getting better when they make it big.
"Let me help," Chanyeol says instead.
Baekhyun pushes himself away from the table.
"I'm not letting you take this from me," he says, but he finds himself walking around the table and towards Chanyeol.
It's like Chanyoel knows, and he probably does, recognizes the signs, the lack of loudness and smirk, twitching eyebrow, fists curled in tight. He's seen Baekhyun in his worst, and he stands up and envelopes Baekhyun in a tight hug before Baekhyun has to suggest it, or pull Chanyeol awkwardly closer. This too is familiar, and Baekhyun misses it, so much, and too often, but they're rivals and a relationship with a fellow associate is not an option. At almost eleven at night, when Baekhyun's this on edge and tired and has absolutely no judgment and common sense left in him, he clings to the expensive fabric at the back of Chanyeol's suit.
They stay like that for what feels like forever, until the moment Baekhyun can breathe again and his nails aren't digging too deep crescents into his palms, until he thinks maybe there is a loophole after all, and it can't be more elusive than this, than him and Chanyeol stuck where Baekhyun chased them. He steps back.
"Is the tea poisoned?" he asks, but he's almost grinning. "Because it's not so easy to get me off your back, Park."
Chanyeol laughs.
"Just drink it," he says and steps back. "Don't stay too late." Chanyeol is smiling, but this is a soft smile, one that not many get to see. It feels just as nostalgic as the concoction of herbs Baekhyun can smell wafting from the cup.
The next morning, Baekhyun is victorious over his loophole and successful meeting with a client. The firm seems to not care much, in a havoc over Park Chanyeol leaving to set up his own small practice, and to teach. Now, everyone's sure Baekhyun's about to become the youngest partner the firm has ever had. Somehow, the realization tastes bitter, just like Baekhyun's second espresso of the morning, unsatisfying and too processed. Like he has no loopholes left up his sleeve.
Tagging
nachtegael
Almost there and yet elusive, that's what Baekhyun's mentor always called loopholes in contracts, especially when they needed to find one. Yet he was still so good at seeing them. Baekhyun, now independent associate, feels his mentor's strategy failing.
"There are no loopholes," he tells the empty office. It's way too late to be sitting in his office chair and peering at too small text, and honestly Baekhyun is much better in a court room, arguing his case and twisting truths and playing things up, than he is wading through pages and pages of clauses that seem to aim to cover even the absolutely improbable causes.
"Aren't you a bit too young to already be talking to yourself?" a deep voice says from the door.
"Chanyeol," Baekhyun says, his eye twitching. Chanyeol is smiling, smugly. He's here in the office, as late as Baekhyun, but it seems whatever his own cause was, he was successful.
Always successful. Chanyeol loves this shit, writing contracts, reading contracts. He hates going to court, claiming he's too cheerful for such a dull and serious place, but give him a project, to lead a company through a merger, due diligence, start up about to be sold to a big company, creating a legal frame for some new crazy project, and he's .... insufferably great.
It's annoying. It's spoiling Baekhyun's ambition to become the youngest partner in the firm. Where Baekhyun's good at the fight, at damage control, Chanyeol's good at prevention and making sure no damage control is needed. With the fucked up, too lengthy procedure of the judicial system, it seems the current partners are starting to appreciate Chanyeol more, and clients too seek more of prevention than frustrating court battles.
And so cheerful, always smiling, tall, low voiced, big eared, so very earnest Chanyeol is Baekhyun's worst enemy. He's also closest to what Baekhyun would call friend in the volatile environment of the firm, where they started as interns together, became junior lawyers and associates together. Only now there's going to be only one new partner, and Chanyeol's standing in the doorway, smug and happy and looking like he hasn't spent over twelve hours in the office at all, and Baekhyun just wants ... a hug.
Chanyeol moves inside, and only now Baekhyun realizes that he's carrying a cup with something steaming in it.
"Tea," he deadpans.
"It's absolutely too late for coffee."
Chanyeol slides to sit in one of the conference chairs on the other side of Baekhyun's long table and puts the cup right in front of Baekhyun. It's the herb mix that Chanyeol's mom always sends him, ahs been sending him for years now.
"Go away," Baekhyun says, looking down at the contract, lines blurring. He's taken on this project to prove he can do this too, what Chanyeol does so well, but now he thinks it's been the stupidest idea ever. The tea in the cup brings back memories of the two of them poring over contracts and briefs and research when they were just juniors in the firm, and dreaming of work hours--at least--getting better when they make it big.
"Let me help," Chanyeol says instead.
Baekhyun pushes himself away from the table.
"I'm not letting you take this from me," he says, but he finds himself walking around the table and towards Chanyeol.
It's like Chanyoel knows, and he probably does, recognizes the signs, the lack of loudness and smirk, twitching eyebrow, fists curled in tight. He's seen Baekhyun in his worst, and he stands up and envelopes Baekhyun in a tight hug before Baekhyun has to suggest it, or pull Chanyeol awkwardly closer. This too is familiar, and Baekhyun misses it, so much, and too often, but they're rivals and a relationship with a fellow associate is not an option. At almost eleven at night, when Baekhyun's this on edge and tired and has absolutely no judgment and common sense left in him, he clings to the expensive fabric at the back of Chanyeol's suit.
They stay like that for what feels like forever, until the moment Baekhyun can breathe again and his nails aren't digging too deep crescents into his palms, until he thinks maybe there is a loophole after all, and it can't be more elusive than this, than him and Chanyeol stuck where Baekhyun chased them. He steps back.
"Is the tea poisoned?" he asks, but he's almost grinning. "Because it's not so easy to get me off your back, Park."
Chanyeol laughs.
"Just drink it," he says and steps back. "Don't stay too late." Chanyeol is smiling, but this is a soft smile, one that not many get to see. It feels just as nostalgic as the concoction of herbs Baekhyun can smell wafting from the cup.
The next morning, Baekhyun is victorious over his loophole and successful meeting with a client. The firm seems to not care much, in a havoc over Park Chanyeol leaving to set up his own small practice, and to teach. Now, everyone's sure Baekhyun's about to become the youngest partner the firm has ever had. Somehow, the realization tastes bitter, just like Baekhyun's second espresso of the morning, unsatisfying and too processed. Like he has no loopholes left up his sleeve.
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