Chapter Text
Jisung had exactly twenty minutes to find Hyunjin a date.
The plan had been solid. Foolproof. He was supposed to take Changbin, his roommate—the kind of guy who checked all of Hyunjin's boxes. A sure thing. Totally what Hyunjin had described as his ideal type.
And then Seungmin showed up five minutes ago, begging—actually begging—for Changbin to take him back. Changbin, being the pathetic pushover that he was, had caved immediately. Probably convinced himself that maybe this time would be different, that they'd finally escape their exhausting cycle of endings and beginnings.
God, I'm an idiot for believing that would actually happen.
Jisung should've known better. They were so predictable it made his brain hurt. He'd watched this exact same cycle play out at least three times in the past six months alone.
Now the cosmic irony was absolutely suffocating: Hyunjin was asking him—Jisung, the guy who couldn't manage his own trainwreck of a love life—for help finding a suitable date. The universe had a twisted sense of humor.
Jisung had no other friends he could ask, which meant he had roughly twenty minutes to find a complete stranger willing to go on a double-blind date with him.
Or show up, pathetically, alone.
He'd been walking the campus grounds for the last few minutes, moving with the focused desperation of someone genuinely on a mission. His phone kept buzzing with increasingly frantic texts from Hyunjin, each one making his stomach twist a little tighter.
Mission impossible, more like.
The whole dating thing had never been his strong suit. Maybe Hyunjin knew that, which was why he'd insisted on the setup in the first place. It was probably some misguided attempt to fix Jisung's hopeless romantic track record. Or maybe—more likely—his friend was just enjoying watching him suffer.
Hyunjin was probably already at the restaurant, with Jisung's date. The clock was ticking. Jisung had nothing. Nobody. Just the growing knot in his stomach and the sinking certainty that he was about to walk into that restaurant alone and face the most humiliating evening of his entire life.
Then he saw him.
It was like a rom-com cliché had decided to manifest in real life—a halo around him, birds singing, music playing, the whole ridiculous setup.
Jisung's brain short-circuited the moment he spotted the stranger sitting beneath a tree, completely absorbed in a book as if the rest of the world didn't exist.
The guy was alone and he wasn't particularly busy.
That was good. That was promising.
Please be available. Please be gay—adjacent. Please be desperate.
He would be perfect. He had to be. The universe owed Jisung that much.
Jisung cleared his throat, straightened his shirt, and started walking over. His heart was already hammering against his ribs like it was trying to escape through his chest. His palms were sweating. This was either the best or worst idea he'd ever had, and there was a nonzero chance it was both simultaneously.
Just be cool. Be smooth. Be literally anything other than yourself.
The stranger looked up as Jisung approached, and Jisung immediately realized he'd made a terrible mistake.
The guy was gorgeous—like, unfairly so. Dark eyes that seemed to catalog Jisung's every awkward micro-expression with clinical precision, sharp features that belonged on a magazine cover, and that effortless vibe of someone completely comfortable doing absolutely nothing. The kind of person who didn't need to try because he was already winning just by existing.
Jisung, on the other hand, was visibly sweating. He could feel it. Not cool at all.
"Hi," Jisung managed, meeting those dark eyes for approximately half a second before all his courage evaporated like morning dew.
"Hi." The guy blinked, clearly surprised by the intrusion.
Jisung's mouth went dry.
How can someone be this gorgeous? The thought was both helpful and completely unhelpful at the same time.
He's probably going to think I'm insane. He's definitely going to think I'm insane. Also, he's probably just not interested. I doubt he's single. I—
"Never mind. I'm sorry to bother you," Jisung said, already retreating. His feet were moving before his brain could catch up, instinct screaming at him to run from this impending disaster before he humiliated himself further.
But then—inexplicably—he stopped mid-stride, standing there like an idiot.
You couldn't do any better than this even if you looked for twenty years. Come on. Worst case scenario, he says no and you're exactly where you started: completely screwed.
He swallowed whatever pride he had left—which wasn't much—and turned back to the stranger, who was already refocusing on his book.
"Wow," Jisung blurted out, immediately wincing at how stupid it sounded. "That must be a really interesting book."
Smooth. Real smooth, Jisung. Why don't you comment on the weather next? Maybe ask if he comes here often?
The stranger glanced up again, one eyebrow raised in what looked suspiciously like amusement. "Sorry. Do I know you?"
"Yeah. No. I mean—" Jisung ran a hand through his hair, already spiraling. "I'm sorry. This is probably insane, but I'm having a bit of a crisis and you seem... available? And vaguely normal? I just... look, I really need to ask if you'd maybe want to go on a date thing with me? My friend ditched me and I genuinely need someone to—"
"Yes."
Jisung's brain stuttered to a complete halt. "What?"
"Yes," the guy repeated, eyes moving deliberately up and down Jisung's frame with an expression somewhere between amusement and genuine intrigue. "I'll go on a date thing with you."
He didn't even let me finish explaining. That's definitely rude. Also, he said yes? How did that actually work?
Jisung's pulse quickened, his mind racing through all the ways this could be a terrible idea. Like, an excellent terrible idea. The kind that would probably keep him awake at 3 AM months from now, reliving this moment with secondhand embarrassment.
"Who would I actually be going on a date with?" the stranger asked, closing his book as if the conversation was already settled.
"Oh. Right. Hyunjin," Jisung said, as if that explained everything. Except it didn't. It explained nothing.
"I'm Minho." He extended his hand for a shake, casual and smooth in a way that made Jisung feel even more disheveled by comparison. "When would this date happen?"
"Like... right now?" Jisung's brain was running on fumes. "Does that work for you? I know it's short notice. Actually, I know it's no notice. But if you're free—"
Minho was already standing up in one fluid motion, moving with the kind of grace that should've been illegal. "Eager, huh? I happen to be free."
They started walking toward the restaurant, and Jisung still couldn't quite process what had just happened. He'd been expecting rejection. Maybe pity. Definitely a call to campus security.
Instead, he was walking next to this beautiful, enigmatic stranger who'd agreed to the worst date proposal in the history of date proposals without even hearing a complete explanation.
"I genuinely wasn't expecting this to actually work," Jisung admitted, falling into step beside him. His legs felt a little wobbly. "Seriously though, should I be concerned you're trying to harvest my organs or something? Oh my God, are you a psychopath? Is this a psychopath situation?"
Minho laughed—actually, genuinely laughed—and the sound was warm and surprisingly unselfconscious.
"I wouldn't say I'm a hundred percent sure, but I'm fairly confident I'm not a psychopath, if that helps," Minho said, amusement dancing in his eyes.
"Fairly confident," Jisung repeated, shaking his head as they walked. "That's not reassuring at all. That's the most suspicious thing you could have possibly said. You just described the exact answer a psychopath would give."
"Fair point," Minho conceded, and Jisung caught him smiling to himself—like he was genuinely entertained by Jisung's panicked spiral. "You're the one who approached me, though. I should be questioning you. For all I know, you're the psychopath."
"Oh my God, you're right," Jisung said, but he was smiling too now, some of the tension bleeding out of his shoulders. "Now it's late. You're stuck with me.”
"As I agreed to be," Minho said, and there was something in his tone that made Jisung's stomach flip in a way that was definitely not helping his ability to think clearly.
Either I'm the luckiest person alive, or this is about to go catastrophically wrong. Possibly both. Probably both.
"So," Jisung said, breaking the silence that had settled between them, "we should probably exchange some actual information about each other. Just so the others don't think I picked up a random guy from the street."
“Which you did.” Minho kept walking, but he glanced over, something unreadable crossing his face. His eyes were questioning in that same assessing way they'd been when Jisung first approached him.
"Which I did," Jisung continued, embarrassed but secretly proud. "I absolutely picked up a random guy from the street.”
"On campus, actually." Minho's lips twitched. “Also, did you just say others?”
“Yeah. Did I not mention? It’s a double date thing.” He looked like a child that just did a bad thing and felt a bit guilty about it.
They quickly exchanged the bare minimum of information—majors, hometowns, just surface-level details.
Soon, the restaurant came into view. Jisung's stomach did a loop. This was actually happening. He'd done it. He'd actually found a date for Hyunjin.
Oh God. Oh God. What if Hyunjin hates him? What if Minho changes his mind the moment he realizes what he's signed up for?
"JISUNG!" Hyunjin screamed from across the room the moment they walked in. Hyunjin was gesturing wildly from a table near the back. "You're late! I thought you ditched me!"
Jisung watched as Minho's head turned toward him with a confused expression. It was a fair reaction.
"Yeah. Sorry about that," Jisung said, navigating through the restaurant to where Hyunjin stood. His stomach sank slightly as he noticed his friend was alone.
"It's fine. Your date is running a bit late too." Hyunjin said, his eyes immediately shifting to Minho behind Jisung. He looked confused, which made sense since Jisung had described Changbin and Minho was... well, Minho was something else entirely. Different. Objectively just as gorgeous, but in a completely opposite way. "I guess that's... mine?"
"Yeah," Jisung said, cringing slightly. "This is Minho. Minho, this is Hyunjin."
Something seemed to click behind Minho's eyes at that moment—like he was rapidly reassessing the entire situation and finding it either hilarious or deeply concerning. He extended his hand politely for a handshake, but Hyunjin went in for a hug instead.
Minho looked directly at Jisung over Hyunjin's shoulder, his expression clearly communicating What the fuck? without making a sound.
When they parted, Minho recovered smoothly. "So, Jisung here told me all about you, Hyunjin," he said, and Jisung was genuinely shocked by how easily and convincingly he managed to lie. His tone was completely casual, like he'd definitely heard all about Hyunjin.
Important information noted: Minho is either a natural liar or dangerously comfortable thinking on his feet. Possibly both. Definitely concerning.
As Hyunjin led them to the table, gesturing excitedly and already launching into questions for Minho, Jisung found himself falling into a position just slightly behind them. From this angle, he could watch Minho interact with Hyunjin—the way he asked questions that made Jisung's friend light up, the subtle humor in his responses, the way he managed to make even mundane conversation feel effortless.
Jisung couldn't help but think that this might actually work. Against all odds, against his complete lack of an actual plan, against the universe's apparent sense of humor...
Maybe tonight wouldn't be a disaster after all.
Or maybe it was just the beginning of one.
Either way, Jisung thought, settling into his seat across from Minho—who was already smiling at something Hyunjin said, a real, unguarded smile that made Jisung's pulse quicken in ways he probably should investigate later—at least I brought a date. I can claim that victory.