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The week drags on in a blur of exhaustion, papers, and Joshua’s unwavering gaze burning into Seokmin’s back.

It wasn’t that Seokmin wasn’t used to working under Joshua, he was his secretary, after all but ever since the reassignment, things had changed. Before, he had at least a small sense of balance, bouncing between assisting other executives, running errands, and handling Joshua’s demanding schedule. Now, with his entire focus chained to Joshua alone, the workload had doubled with no one else to share the burden.

It’s infuriating.

And Joshua, damn him, hadn’t even thought before making that decision. Seokmin knew he hadn’t. Because if Joshua had, he would’ve realized that this meant Seokmin was drowning in work without an executive to delegate tasks to. He worked and worked, sometimes through lunch, through breaks, through the aching stiffness in his shoulders, all while Joshua just watched. Always watching, but never saying anything.

Seokmin pouts about it a lot. At first, it’s subtle, small sighs, pointed glances, lingering stares whenever Joshua calls him into his office for yet another task. But Joshua doesn’t react, doesn’t scold him for sulking like he usually does, doesn’t make a passive-aggressive remark about his ‘unprofessional attitude.’

And that should’ve been a good thing. Should’ve.

But it isn’t. Because Seokmin starts noticing things.

Joshua had stopped scolding him.

He had stopped throwing papers at him when frustrated.

Had stopped huffing in disapproval, snapping at him for mistakes, cutting him down with that cold, effortless precision.

At first, Seokmin thinks it’s because Joshua has grown tired of him, that the contract marriage has settled into the inevitable indifference. But then he notices other things.

Joshua lingers after work now. When it’s just the two of them left in the office, Joshua waits. He offers to go home together. an offer he never used to make.

It weirds Seokmin out. Not in a bad way. But in a way that makes his stomach twist.

They don’t talk in the car.

But Seokmin finds himself staring. His eyes catch on Joshua’s forearm, the way his sleeves are rolled up, exposing pale skin and the sharp angles of his wrist. The veins there. The grip of his fingers on the steering wheel.

Seokmin swallows.

They don’t talk in the elevator either.

Joshua is close, the space too small, his scent stronger than usual. Seokmin pretends not to notice.

It isn’t until they’re inside the apartment, the door clicking shut behind them, that Joshua suddenly leans against him.

Seokmin freezes.

Joshua’s weight isn’t light, broad and warm, pressing into him like something completely foreign. And then-

The realization hits.

Joshua is burning up, His breath is uneven, too shallow, his usually perfect posture loose and weak.

"Sir-," Seokmin says, startled. "Hyung, Are you--?" Joshua hums lowly, his eyes closed like he’s too tired to respond.

Panic kicks in, and Seokmin quickly grabs him, guiding him toward the bedroom-Joshua’s bedroom. The one he hadn’t stepped foot into since they quickly renovated the empty room after almost 3 days of sleeping in the same bed.

The thought barely settles in his mind before he’s focusing again, maneuvering Joshua onto the bed. Joshua lets himself be handled, pliant in a way that Seokmin has never seen before. It unsettles him.