A few weeks later, Hoàng Tuấn’s company had a new intake of employees. Surprisingly, Ngọc Duy was among them. Hoàng Tuấn frowned, thinking it unlikely someone of Ngọc Duy’s caliber would land an assistant role right away. Down in the cafeteria, he asked Gia Trí: “Who handled this round of hiring?”
Gia Trí: “I think it was the ‘gay’ Mr. Thành.”
Khánh Minh shook his head: “No, it was the straight Mr. Thành. But he’s kinda gay.”
Gia Trí grimaced: “Why make it so confusing?”
Khánh Minh: “I don’t know—I’ve heard the sisters call them that since I started. Now if you say ‘gay Mr. Thành,’ everyone thinks of the straight one!”
The company had two Mr. Thànhs in HR: one gay, one straight. The straight one acted flamboyant, while the gay one tried hard to seem macho. To add to the chaos, everyone called the flamboyant straight one “gay Thành” and the macho gay one “straight Thành.”
The straight Thành had a younger brother in sales, same level as Xuân Minh. Ngọc Duy was hired as his assistant—technically equal rank to Hoàng Tuấn. Hoàng Tuấn didn’t need to guess how Ngọc Duy got in.
As colleagues, Hoàng Tuấn kept things civil, but he hadn’t forgotten the past—especially how Quốc Hưng ended up in that workers’ slum. Ngọc Duy, convinced no one knew his role, acted friendly and carefree around Hoàng Tuấn.
In his first month, Ngọc Duy performed brilliantly. Individual sales second only to Hoàng Tuấn; team sales topped the company. With Xuân Minh gone chasing his true love, even Hoàng Tuấn couldn’t carry everything alone. Gradually everyone warmed to Ngọc Duy—except Hoàng Tuấn, who knew exactly how he’d achieved it.
But how someone succeeded was their business; Hoàng Tuấn stayed out of it. Still, Ngọc Duy grew bolder in pursuing him.
At partner dinners or quarterly awards, Ngọc Duy deliberately dressed to “contrast” Hoàng Tuấn. Hoàng Tuấn always wore black suits; Ngọc Duy showed up in an identical design but white. They looked like opposites—yet standing together, it was obvious they were wearing couple outfits in different colors.
Whether intentional or not, Ngọc Duy always gravitated toward Hoàng Tuấn at events, sometimes chatting with the same guest. Over time, the whole company suspected they were secretly dating—“the feelings are there, just too shy to show.”
After a meeting, Khánh Minh asked excitedly: “Tuấn’s finally opening up to someone?”
Hoàng Tuấn: “Who?”
Gia Trí: “Who else! You two are always black-and-white together—plus the top sales duo. No one else in the company fits between you!”
Even close friends thought so—Hoàng Tuấn couldn’t blame outsiders for gossiping. He insisted: “It’s not like that!”
Khánh Minh: “Stop denying, boss! I’ve seen how Duy looks at you—so lovey-dovey!”
If that’s how it looked, Hoàng Tuấn decided to use it to his advantage.
One afternoon, Ngọc Duy lingered by the gate with his bag. When Hoàng Tuấn rode out, he called: “Tuấn! My bike broke down—can I get a ride?”
Normally Hoàng Tuấn would’ve refused with excuses—take Grab, get it fixed—but this time he agreed.
The “aunties” watching from upstairs screamed as the two rode off. The yaoi fangirls went wild: “My OTP! See? I told you! Ultimate ship fuel! I’m writing fic tonight!”
Ngọc Duy never dreamed it’d be this easy to ride behind Hoàng Tuấn. At every red light, when Hoàng Tuấn accelerated, Ngọc Duy “slipped” backward from inertia and wrapped his arms around Hoàng Tuấn’s waist for balance. After a stretch, he started chatting: “You’re still so cold, Tuấn. The sisters say tons of gorgeous, rich people have confessed—you reject them all. I thought your heart would never change; no one else would ever sit here.”
Hoàng Tuấn: “I heard a line in a movie once: ‘No feeling stays unchanged forever. Some just deepen; others fade.’ Clinging to the idea of unchanging love only brings suffering.”
Ngọc Duy smiled triumphantly, feeling his long efforts were finally paying off.
From then on, everyone saw Hoàng Tuấn giving Ngọc Duy rides—to work and home. The fangirls whispered: “They’re going home together now!”
Ngọc Duy, seeing Hoàng Tuấn open up, was constantly cheerful. His already beautiful face glowed even more with those charming smiles. If Xuân Minh had been a cold, melancholic beauty, Ngọc Duy was the warm, vibrant opposite.
The office buzzed—Hoàng Tuấn wasn’t as icy as they’d thought. In love, he became warm and steady, making everyone swoon. His “ambiguous” relationship with Ngọc Duy only fueled admiration. Beyond rides, he bought Ngọc Duy afternoon milk tea and snacks daily—giving the office ladies terminal sweetness overload. He helped with Ngọc Duy’s tough contracts too. They were basically one wedding away from official.
Even the director’s assistant couldn’t contain her excitement, joining Ngọc Duy and the fangirls at lunch. She probed: “Have you two done it yet?”
Ngọc Duy blushed: “Not yet…”
Another sister: “Has he confessed?”
Ngọc Duy shook his head: “No…”
She snapped her fingers: “My boy’s proper! Won’t touch you till he confesses. Maybe he’ll propose in the office with a ring—haha!”
Ngọc Duy flushed: “You’re exaggerating!”
He said it, but deep down he hoped it was true. Hoàng Tuấn was human, after all—not stone. How could he resist someone as talented and gorgeous as Ngọc Duy?
At Thế Sang’s wedding, both were invited. Seeing the lavish flowers and decorations, Ngọc Duy daydreamed about Hoàng Tuấn leading him down the aisle and grinned stupidly. Spotting Quốc Hưng at another table, he quickly pulled Hoàng Tuấn to the seat he’d chosen—one that blocked Hoàng Tuấn’s view of Quốc Hưng while letting Ngọc Duy monitor him. Even feeling victorious, seeing Quốc Hưng still unsettled him.
Despite trying, Hoàng Tuấn couldn’t stop his eyes from drifting over. When Ngọc Duy wasn’t looking, he stole glances. He counted every “Cheers!” from Quốc Hưng’s table—he knew Quốc Hưng couldn’t handle much. After five drinks, Hoàng Tuấn excused himself to the bathroom and waited. Sure enough, Quốc Hưng soon rushed in, vomiting everything.
Once again, Hoàng Tuấn couldn’t help stepping out and rubbing his back. Seeing Quốc Hưng’s pained face, he wished he could just hold and comfort him.
Before he could say much, Ngọc Duy came looking. Hoàng Tuấn had to let Quốc Hưng go, regretfully. As for Ngọc Duy, though he said nothing, his unease skyrocketed.
The next day at lunch with colleagues, Ngọc Duy sighed: “I’m so worried, sisters!”
One asked: “About what, baby? Wedding outfit stress?”
He shook his head: “Yesterday at a friend’s wedding, I ran into Tuấn’s ex.”
The assistant clicked her tongue: “Oof—trouble! What happened?”
Ngọc Duy: “Nothing to me. But after a few beers he acted all pitiful to get Tuấn’s attention.”
Another frowned: “Typical toxic ex. Don’t worry! This morning I went into Tuấn’s office—saw him polishing a super shiny ring.”
The assistant’s eyes widened: “For real? Wedding bells soon?”
She laughed: “I wanted to surprise you, but you looked so worried I had to tell!”
Ngọc Duy relaxed a bit, thinking he’d been overreacting.
But in the following weeks, Hoàng Tuấn started leaving quickly after work. Weekends he stayed home—no time for Ngọc Duy. Sensitive as ever, Ngọc Duy noticed every small change. When asked, Hoàng Tuấn just said he was busy.
It dragged on; Ngọc Duy grew more irritated. Hoàng Tuấn treated him like a toy—played with, then discarded. He decided to confront him.
That afternoon was 20/10. Ngọc Duy asked Hoàng Tuấn to stay after everyone left. Facing each other, he couldn’t hold back—he rushed over and hugged him tight. Hoàng Tuấn didn’t pull away, but didn’t hug back either.
Ngọc Duy: “You’ve been so cold lately! Do you know how sad I’ve been?”
Hoàng Tuấn: “Sorry, Duy. I’ve been preparing something important. I think it’s time to give it to you.”
Ngọc Duy’s heart raced. So he’d been wrong—Hoàng Tuấn was preparing a gift for today.
Hoàng Tuấn: “Hold out your hand.”
Ngọc Duy’s soul floated to the moon and back. Shyly, he extended his hand palm down, fingers curled, eyes averted.
Hoàng Tuấn lifted it, flipped it palm up, and placed an invitation card on it.
Ngọc Duy sensed something off. But the card was beautiful—he assumed it held sweet words from Hoàng Tuấn.
Opening it, reading line by line, his heart stopped.
“You are cordially invited to the intimate celebration of Hoàng Tuấn and Quốc Hưng.”
He stared at the card, then at Hoàng Tuấn, rubbing his eyes in disbelief. Stammering: “Hoàng Tuấn… what… what is this?”
Hoàng Tuấn: “It says it clearly! I spent a whole week making it—do you like it?”
Ngọc Duy didn’t answer, eyes wide and unblinking. He tore the card into pieces and flung them on the floor.
He screamed: “You bastard! You’ve been playing me?”
Hoàng Tuấn feigned confusion (annoyingly): “What? I think there’s a misunderstanding. You and I… we’ve always just been friends, right?”
That word “friends” nearly knocked Ngọc Duy over. He gripped the railing, voice shaking: “Friends? Then why the daily rides? Why care about everything I do? You made the whole company see us as a couple—and now you say that?”
Hoàng Tuấn leaned against the railing, calm: “Why would they think that? We haven’t even held hands.”
Ngọc Duy’s dreams shattered with every cold splash from Hoàng Tuấn. Sobbing and yelling: “You did this on purpose—you led me on! Tell me—did Quốc Hưng seduce you that day? You told me your feelings for him had changed!”
Hoàng Tuấn nodded at the last part: “Yes, my feelings for Quốc Hưng did change. They grew stronger—not weaker.”
Ngọc Duy shrieked: “You motherfucker! Why play games and give me hope? Build it up just to crush it? Does ruining someone’s feelings make you happy?”
Hoàng Tuấn’s face hardened, eyes turning icy like the old days: “You’re the expert on that feeling, aren’t you? You destroyed two people’s feelings and lives at once.”
Ngọc Duy’s eyes darted—he hadn’t expected Hoàng Tuấn to know. All this time he’d been a clown.
He deflected: “Tuấn… what are you talking about?”
Hoàng Tuấn, coolly: “If you don’t want others to know, don’t do it.”
Ngọc Duy knew he was exposed. He grabbed Hoàng Tuấn’s arm: “Tuấn, give me a chance? That time I was wrong—I had no choice! You knew me first—why him? What does he have that I don’t? He was disgusted when he learned you were a callboy—I never felt that! Tuấn… don’t you see my feelings are real?”
Hoàng Tuấn couldn’t listen to this shamelessness anymore.
He cut in: “You really don’t know what he has that you don’t? He’d never sacrifice others for his own gain. From the start, you were never qualified to compare.”
Seeing no reconciliation, Ngọc Duy turned to threats: “Fine! Quốc Hưng isn’t like me. But what he won’t do, I will! Don’t forget your past. Think carefully—or the whole company learns you were the top pro in that whorehouse!”
Hoàng Tuấn smirked: “However ‘pro’ I was, I never expected the kid I once helped enter the industry to turn around and bite me like this.”
Ngọc Duy laughed maniacally: “Helped? You ruined my life!”
He remembered coming home from work one night, finding a boy crying on the lit stairs. Kindly asking what was wrong, the next day Ngọc Duy followed him to his workplace. Desperate and out of options, Ngọc Duy begged for help; Hoàng Tuấn persuaded the boss to take him on. Now Ngọc Duy blamed him entirely. Hoàng Tuấn felt bitter—if not for pitying the delicate kid, he’d have beaten him senseless.
He had nothing more to say to this person: “Yeah, I’m the villain who ruins innocent lives! Stay as far away from me as possible.”
He stormed off, ignoring Ngọc Duy’s hysterical screams: “Hoàng Tuấn, you’ll regret this! I won’t let you get away with it!”
Hoàng Tuấn wasn’t worried—he had more important things today.
Time passed peacefully; Hoàng Tuấn thought Ngọc Duy was all bark. He happily played “neighbor” to the boy next door. But Ngọc Duy meant business—on Valentine’s Day he quit but not before leaking secretly recorded clips of Hoàng Tuấn with clients from his callboy days into the company group chat.
Even steady Hoàng Tuấn couldn’t take the shock. He turned off all contact, took leave, and hid in his room. He’d planned to meet Quốc Hưng that day but lost the courage to face him.
Khánh Minh and Gia Trí, worried, tracked down his address to comfort him. Khánh Minh: “Don’t worry,—we know who you are. This won’t change how we see you!”
Though it would take time to recover, Hoàng Tuấn calmed somewhat. Remembering Quốc Hưng once left over the word “callboy,” he hesitated about the date. He asked Gia Trí: “Can you meet Hưng for me today? I’m scared…”
In all the time they’d known him, it was the first time Gia Trí and Khánh Minh heard Hoàng Tuấn admit fear. Gia Trí agreed: “I’ll feel things out for you.”
But when Gia Trí returned from meeting Quốc Hưng, his face was swollen on one side. First time in his life he’d taken such a slap. Khánh Minh fussed over him for a week; Hoàng Tuấn felt both happy and guilty.
He deeply regretted it—because that night Quốc Hưng was nearly assaulted by a drunk. But in that moment, Hoàng Tuấn realized nothing mattered more than bringing Quốc Hưng back. As long as he could, he’d never take his eyes off him again.
Thankfully, fate smiled—Hoàng Tuấn finally “won” Quốc Hưng back. The rooftop party was his gift to Gia Trí as partial repayment.
The past replayed like a movie; hearing it all stirred countless emotions in me. Hoàng Tuấn had understood every joy and sorrow I’d felt. I smiled and pretended to ask: “Have you told me everything? Still hiding anything?”
He held me close and whispered: “Actually… one more thing.”
I widened my eyes: “What?”
He pressed against me, voice low and filthy in my ear: “I’m so fucking horny… I can’t hold back anymore!”
Only then did I remember—that massive thing had stayed rock-hard inside me the whole story. We made love again; even exhausted, our bodies wouldn’t listen—clinging, inseparable.
In the final thrusts, Hoàng Tuấn panted: “Hưng…”
I wrapped my arms around his neck, moaning back: “I’m listening!”
He poured everything in, voice breaking: “I… I love you! Thank you… for everything!”
As he spoke, he came deep inside me—hot pulses like our love itself.
When he finished, I pulled him down for a passionate kiss, then whispered: “We’re family—no need for thanks!”