Archive of Our Own ^beta

It smelled like coffee, that typical artificial vanilla candle scent, and desperation.

Boom stood just inside the entrance of the Ari café-slash-bar-turned-love-lottery, hands shoved deep in the pockets of a jacket he didn’t even like. His friend May had said, “At least wear something that says you’re open to love, not open to returning home alone.” She’d chosen the jacket herself. Boom had considered burning it more than once on the BTS ride over.

The place was dimly lit in the kind of way that was trying too hard to be cozy. Warm bodies packed into a space that usually hosted quiet laptop types made everything feel hotter than it should. Fairy lights blinked lazily above rows of round tables, each with a flickering electric candle at the center and a flimsy printed number card standing upright like a sad tent.

Waiters moved between the tables and jazz buzzed faintly from speakers overhead, offbeat and too slow. The whole place reeked of effort - the way people do when they try to look like they’re not trying.

Boom didn’t even want to be here. He wasn’t looking for anything. His friends had signed him up for this nonsense and then annoyed him into going until he gave in out of sheer exhaustion. “You’re too picky”, Akin had said. “You never give people a chance.” 

"You literally attract the worst people. At this point it’s a talent", Meena had added.

Ping hadn’t been much kinder. "Try something new. You’ve dated artists, coworkers, delivery drivers, that guy who did crypto full time… That’s not a personality, Boom. I beg you. We are begging you."

He should have ignored them. But instead, here he was, heart shriveling as he stepped further inside. He checked in at the registration table and received a sticker with the number 12 written in thick black strokes. It was crooked when he slapped it on his chest.

“Twelve’s toward the back,” the staff member said with a smile far too cheery for the circumstances. “Good luck!”

Boom just forced a smile and made his way toward his seat, trying not to step on the tangled mess of power cords that fed into the candles and speakers. Someone had definitely overpolished the surface of the table - it smelled like orange-scented cleaner and awkward conversations lurking ahead.

He sat, arms crossed, and exhaled slowly through his nose.

This was going to be a disaster.

He hadn’t been in a relationship in… what, two years? Maybe more. And dating? That had become more like a joke - and not the funny kind. Apps were an endless scroll of gym selfies and “looking for fun ;)” bios. Real-life setups always ended with May telling him he was too picky, or that his face looked like he wanted to stab someone mid-conversation.

He didn’t want to be jaded. But when your last three dates involved one guy crying about his ex, another asking how open Boom was to “spiritual debt cleansing,” and one very handsome man who disappeared halfway through dinner to never return, the optimism wore thin.

Boom tapped the table absentmindedly with one finger and glanced around.

There were maybe twenty or so people, all taking their seats and awkwardly pretending not to size each other up. Lots of collared shirts. Too gelled hairstyles. A few bold fashion risks that wouldn’t have passed inspection outside of a music video. One guy was clearly trying too hard with the cologne. It hit Boom like a slap every time the air shifted.

He sighed again. This time loudly.

And then he spotted him.

His gaze landed on him without meaning to.

A man was leaning at the check in desk, chatting with the host as he picked up the sticker labeled number 9, laughing at something. Head tipped slightly back, flashing that kind of smile that makes people either fall in love or fall over their own feet.

His smile was easy - it wasn’t a polite smile. It was a smile that knew it looked good - not smug, just warm, but not desperate for attention. His shirt was just a bit too open at the collar to be polite but perfectly within charming. He had a single silver ring on his right hand, and his hair looked soft even from here, pushed back like he’d done it with his fingers and liked the result.

He looked... comfortable. Too comfortable. Like he belonged here, like he could talk to anyone in the room and leave with a phone number or three without trying.

Boom’s heart kicked once. 

No. Nope. Absolutely not.

His eyes darted away, back to the middle of his table. He could already feel the trap forming - the kind that starts with a glance and ends with disappointment. Men like that were always the same: charming, practiced, probably a little bored with attention but used to it. The kind of guy you mistake for kind because he remembers your name and looks you in the eye when he asks how you’re doing.

Boom had fallen for that guy before.

More than once.

And every time, it ended with Boom replaying every conversation like a fool, trying to guess whether he imagined the whole thing or if he’d just been the Tuesday night time-killer before someone better came along.

Still...

He risked another glance.

Then the guy glanced his way. Just a flick of the eyes.

Boom freezed. Looked down at the table. Ordered a glass of wine instead of the coffee he intended to drink from the waiter passing by his table.

A soft chime rang out from the speaker above just as the wine was placed in front of him and a guy in a bright yellow t-shirt sat down across from him.

“Okay, everyone! Let’s begin. Remember, you’ll have five minutes per round. We have created randomized rotations for everyone. When the bell rings, all odd numbers please move to the next table with the number on the list we are handing out to each of you now. After the set time, you will receive new lists to give you the chance to meet with others at fixed tables if you had an even number, or vice versa if you had an odd number. Good luck and have fun!”

Someone pushed a little slip of paper into the hands of the man across from Boom and the bell rang out to signal the start of this whole ordeal.

The bell had barely stopped ringing before yellow shirt guy launched into a monologue.

“Hi, I’m Ton. You’re cute! I’m a Virgo sun, Gemini moon, Cancer rising. My therapist says I overshare but I think self-awareness is hot, right?”

Boom blinked. “That’s... a lot of astrology.”

“I memorized my whole chart,” Ton said proudly, tapping on his phone to show him. “It’s like knowing yourself, but sexy.”

Boom just stared at him, reaching for his wine.

Five minutes.

I can survive five minutes.

Ton kept going. His last boyfriend had a Pisces Venus, which apparently explained everything. He once dreamt that his soulmate’s name started with B - “So this is interesting, right?” - and also, he hated cilantro.

He asked Boom’s birth time before even learning what he did for work or what his hobbies were and insisted they had some sort of “moon twin connection”. Boom had no clue what that meant. He nodded anyway.

The bell rang.

Boom had never been so relieved by a sound in his life.

Ton got up and disappeared into the chaos of people trying to find their new seats.

Boom’s gaze wandered around the room and landed on table 4.

There he is again.

Now seated just two tables to Boom’s left. Smiling at something, head tilted in that lazy way that somehow made his entire body look relaxed and charming without trying. His sleeves were rolled up just enough to show his forearms. Boom hated that he noticed.

He looked away, jaw tight.

The next date sat down across from Boom.

Polo shirt. Spoke like a YouTube tutorial.

“So I work in finance,” the man said. “I’m all about stability, you know? Long-term investments. In money and in people.”

Boom didn’t respond right away.

The man leaned forward. “What do you do?”

“I’m a freelance designer.”

“Oh,” he said. “So… not, like, stable.”

“You mean financially?” he asked, voice flat.

“I mean, in general.”

Boom took another long sip. “Do you ever talk to people like they’re people, or is that something you only do after the market closes?”

Five minutes of that felt like forty.

His eyes drifted back over to table 4. To Aou. Boom learned his name by eavesdropping. Not really eavesdropping, actually - more like Aou’s date delightfully giggling his name as if they were already planning a dream wedding with Aou’s name on the wedding invitations in their head.

The person across from him was practically glowing. You didn’t have to be an empath to see it - they were hanging on to every word. Laughing too loud. Leaning in too close. When Aou laughed, people actually leaned in like they wanted to keep it. 

By the time he focused back on the polo shirt with no personality in front of him, the bell luckily rang again.

The next guy sat down and immediately kickstarted a ramble deep dive on his new juice cleanse.

“Only raw liquids for seven days,” he said. “I’m on day three. No solid food. My body feels like it’s floating.”

Boom looked at him and raised an eyebrow. His hands were shaking. “You look like you’re dying.”

“I feel amazing.”

There was an awkward pause.

Then the man leaned in and whispered, “Don’t tell anyone, but I did lick a croissant earlier. For the texture.”

Boom opened his mouth, closed it again, then took a very large sip of his wine instead of saying anything.

Aou was now sitting at table 10. Close enough to hear him laugh again. Close enough to make Boom’s brain short-circuit when he crossed one leg over the other and leaned in with his chin in his hand like he was modeling for a magazine.

Boom looked away.

He absolutely should not be this interested. He came here to prove a point. To show his friends that dating was a rigged game and Boom had no tokens left to spend. But now he had found someone who seemed... genuinely too good to be here.

That made Boom suspicious. People like that don’t go to some speed dating event unless they’re collecting souls.

Still. He snuck another glance.

He was listening intently to his speed date, elbow on the table, chin in his palm. He nodded slowly, then laughed again - not a loud laugh, just a low, pleased sound that somehow made Boom’s stomach flip in a way he didn’t appreciate. Then he turned his head to the side.

Aou’s gaze briefly met his. Again.

Boom froze. Again. Half a second. Maybe less.

Aou didn’t smile. Not yet. But his eyebrows raised just slightly, as if to say: Caught you. And then he turned back to his date without a hitch.

Boom’s ears warmed.

He hated this.

Boom didn’t even realize he was still staring until his current date asked, “Is something wrong with my shirt or something?”

Boom blinked. “No, sorry. It’s fine. I just - got distracted.”

Pathetic, he thought.

The next rotation passed. Boom tried - really tried - not to look again. But Aou’s voice carried. Warm, low, amused. His laugh again, easy and light. Boom glanced up on reflex, over his shoulder this time, then immediately looked away like a coward.

The bell chimed.

Another rotation. Another blur of polite shuffling and soft background jazz.

Boom looked to his left.

Aou had moved to Table 5 now. Laughing again, of course. Eyes bright, fingers playing with the edge of his glass, like he wasn’t even trying to be charming and just was. Boom hated that it was working on him. He noticed Aou glancing down at his paper and overheard him say something that sounded like “fourteen”.

Desperate times.

As his new date introduced himself as a “digital nomad with a passion for experimental soundscapes,” Boom leaned toward the guy at the next table over. He looked about his age, pleasant enough, hair neatly combed and shirt tucked in.

“Hey,” Boom said. “You’re number fourteen, right?”

“Yeah?”

“Would you want to switch tables for the next round? Just temporarily.”

The guy blinked. “Why?”

“I’m trying to get to a specific table.”

“Someone you know?”

“No. I just…” Boom hesitated. “He has a good aura.”

The man looked unimpressed. “Is this about the tall guy in the expensive shirt?”

Boom stilled. “What?”

“You’ve been looking at him all night.”

Boom tried to act casual. Failed.

The man sniffed. “You and pretty much every person in here.”

He turned back to his own date without another word.

Boom sank into his chair, a little embarrassed, and stared at the little electric candle on the table like it had betrayed him personally.

A voice snapped him out of it.

“So,” said the man in front of him, cheerful and wide-eyed. “What are your thoughts on polyamory?”

Boom blinked, confused and a little wary. “In general?”

“Specifically if I’m already in two relationships and they’re both cool with it.”

Boom stared. “Uhm…”

“I’m just here to gather a sample before I commit, you know?”

Boom nodded slowly. He wasn’t sure if that was how it worked but had no desire to actually go down the rabbit hole of this conversation. “Right.”

“So. You up for it?”

The bell rang. Boom didn’t even say goodbye this time.

He glanced toward Aou’s table - number 1, not 14 -  out of the corner of his eye. Still charming. Still smiling. Still not at Boom’s table.

It was like fate was toying with him.

Boom took another sip of wine and muttered under his breath.

Universe, he thought, I don’t ask for much. Just one table. One round. Five minutes with the pretty boy who smells like eau de expensive and heartbreak.

The man who sat down next didn’t say anything. He just slid a printed resume across the table.

Boom stared at it.

“You’re giving me your CV?”

“It’s important to be transparent.”

“I didn’t bring mine,” Boom said dryly. “But I did order the house red, if that counts for anything.”

The man nodded. “That shows initiative. But also bad habits.”

The bell rang before Boom could figure out if this was performance art.

He watched the rotations again. Chairs scraping, feet shifting. Aou stood, moved… to a table out of his field of vision, somewhere behind his back.

He smiled at someone as he passed by - not Boom - and probably sat down effortlessly at table who knows what fucking number like he’d done it a hundred times.

Boom swore under his breath and slumped in his seat.

If this night was some kind of cosmic joke, the punchline was wearing a nice shirt and excellent cologne.

The bell rang again, softer this time, or maybe Boom’s ears were just tired.

People shifted. Moved chairs. Made awkward little comments like “good luck” or “maybe see you later” as they moved on to the next small table of possibility or disappointment. Boom barely registered the man walking away from him - the one with the resume and constructive criticism about Boom’s supposed “lack of five-year goals.”

Instead, his attention snapped to the chair at table 13. Right next to his.

Aou sat down.

Just like that. No fanfare. No music swelling dramatically in the background, like a movie. Just Aou easing into the seat with a little amused smirk and a casual pull at the cuffs of his rolled-up sleeves.

Boom tensed up, froze again. Not all the way - he was still physically breathing, technically alive - but something in his brain turned to static.

Aou was less than a meter away. Close enough that Boom could hear the subtle texture of his voice now, not just the laugh but the rhythm of it - calm, steady, low. The kind of voice people probably trusted right away. The kind that made compliments feel like they actually meant something. The kind that made you feel comfortable and warm and welcome.

Boom didn’t even care who was sitting across from him this round. He didn’t notice until the guy leaned forward slightly and said, “You look like your soul just left your body.”

Boom blinked. “Sorry. What?”

His new date smiled - a gentle, lopsided one that didn’t seem fake. “I said, ‘Hi.’ But your eyes were somewhere else.”

“Right. Hi.”

“I’m Pat.”

Boom cleared his throat, forcing his eyes away from the table beside him. “Boom.”

“I like your name.”

Boom offered a smile. Pat was attractive in a soft, unassuming way. Neatly dressed. No obvious weirdness. Wavy, dark brown hair. A small mole under his left eye. His voice was calm. His body language open. He wasn’t trying too hard, but he didn’t seem boring either.

The kind of person Boom might have liked - if he hadn’t just spent the last thirty minutes circling a slow-burn crush he had no business entertaining.

Pat leaned his elbows on the table, but not in a pushy way. “So what brought you here? Other than peer pressure.”

Boom blinked. “How’d you know it was peer pressure?”

“You have the face of someone who got tricked into this.”

That pulled a soft, reluctant laugh out of Boom.

“Guilty,” he said, then hesitated. “What about you?”

“I made a deal with my best friend. She goes to therapy, I try dating again. We both do the thing we avoid.”

Boom actually laughed this time. “That’s weirdly sweet.”

“Right?” Pat grinned. “So. What kind of people do you usually fall for?”

It was a fair question. Thoughtful. Engaging. So far, this was the most normal conversation Boom had had all evening. But his brain wasn’t cooperating. Because Aou - the people in question - was right there, laughing softly at something his date had just said, one leg crossed over the other, fingers tracing the rim of his glass like it was the most interesting object in the room, the silver ring on his index finger reflecting the light every now and then.

Pat asked another question. Boom missed it.

“…Sorry,” he said again. “What was that?”

“I asked if you believe in love at first sight.”

Boom blinked. “I… don’t know. Probably not.”

Pat tilted his head. “But you’re here.”

“I came for the wine,” Boom said, half-joking. “And the emotional trauma. And because of the previously established peer pressure.”

Pat laughed, light and warm, like it was actually funny.

He was so nice. Boom hated that he couldn’t focus.

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught movement. Aou had raised his hand slightly, catching the attention of a passing waiter. He said something - the waiter nodded and disappeared toward the bar.

Then Aou leaned back in his chair, one arm draped over the backrest, still half-turned toward his own date, still smiling.

Boom stared at his own glass. It was nearly empty. He hadn’t even noticed.

The waiter returned. Stopped beside Boom’s table. Set down a fresh glass of red in front of him.

Boom looked up, startled. “I didn’t-”

The waiter nodded toward table 13. “From him.”

Boom’s head turned, heart already thudding like it had something to prove.

Aou hadn’t moved. He was still mid-conversation with the person across from him. But his eyes flicked over to Boom’s - just briefly - and he gave the smallest nod, paired with a lifted corner of his mouth that could have been a smile if he had wanted it to be. A look that said I noticed and you were out and maybe even you’re not invisible all at once.

Boom’s heart did something very stupid in his chest.

He turned back toward Pat, who was watching with quiet amusement.

“I’m not gonna lie,” Pat said, voice low, quiet, “that was pretty smooth.”

Boom tried to act casual. It didn’t work.

He wrapped his hands around the new glass of wine like it might stabilize him.

“He’s… probably like this with everyone,” Boom muttered. “That might be his whole thing. Effortless charm.”

Pat smiled faintly. “And yet, you still haven’t taken your eyes off him for more than ten seconds.”

Boom made a face. “I feel like I should be embarrassed.”

“Don’t be. Honestly, if I had a guy like that buying me wine, I wouldn’t be listening to me either.”

That made Boom laugh again - awkward, this time, but grateful. Pat wasn’t trying to make him feel bad. If anything, he seemed more amused than offended.

“You’re very understanding,” Boom said.

“I’m very gay and not blind,” Pat replied, resting his chin in his hand. “But also, you’re cute when you’re flustered. And I can appreciate a good wine.”

Boom took a sip just to keep his mouth busy.

Pat looked at him a second longer, then added, gently, “You seem surprised.”

Boom hesitated. “People don’t usually... look at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like I’m worth noticing.”

Pat smiled, soft again. “Maybe they just have bad taste.”

Boom glanced sideways at Aou again, immediately irritated at himself for doing it. The easy way he talked. The way he held himself. The casual confidence of someone who knew people liked being around him. Someone who probably never had to wonder if he was worth a second glance.

Boom felt suddenly small.

He turned back to Pat. “You seem great.”

“But not what you’re looking for right now,” Pat finished, no edge in his voice.

Boom didn’t answer. He didn’t need to.

The bell rang.

Pat stood, gave him a parting smile - not disappointed, just kind - and disappeared into the crowd.

Boom stared at the wine glass for a while. Then, finally, he looked toward table thirteen again.

Aou was still there.

And he was still smiling.

The bell rang once again, soft and echoing, like a sigh. The sound of the bell had become routine by now - a background chime that signaled yet another chance to be unimpressed. 

Boom didn’t even glance up at first. He was too busy pretending he hadn’t spent the last hour or so cataloguing all the ways this night had gone sideways, swirling the wine in his glass, letting the sound of chairs scraping the floor fill the air while he gathered what was left of his social battery - which, at this point, was about as generous as the wine pour had been.

When he looked up, he half-expected another spreadsheet enthusiast or another guy with a skincare routine that doubled as a PowerPoint. He didn’t expect him.

Aou.

Sitting. Right there. As if it hadn’t taken endless rotations and a spiritual breakdown to get here.

Boom tensed, brain stalling just long enough to be noticeable. Aou smiled - not smug, not forced. Just a soft smile, like he was amused and pleased and maybe even a little curious. Smiling. Not at someone at the next table. Not at someone somewhere nearby. Not at someone diagonally from him. Not at someone else. At him.

“Hi,” he said. “Finally. I was starting to think we’d never get matched.”

Boom’s mind blanked completely. Every complaint, every sarcastic retort he’d been preparing in case they ever met vanished like steam off a teacup.

“You’re real,” Boom said.

Aou laughed. “I hope so. Would be awkward if not.”

Boom immediately wanted to crawl under the table.

“I mean-” He paused, blinked, made a vague hand gesture that might’ve meant kill me now. “I just meant, uh. You’ve been everywhere but here. I was starting to think you were a collective hallucination.”

“I like that,” Aou said. “Very dramatic. Am I your ghost boyfriend?”

Boom narrowed his eyes, ignored the way his heart kicked at the word boyfriend. “Don’t make it worse.”

“I’m not. I think it’s cute.”

Boom took a steadying breath. Tried to will his heart into not leaping out of his body and running laps around the table.

Aou leaned forward slightly, resting an elbow on the edge. “Boom, right?”

“You know my name?”

“You’ve been kind of hard to miss,” Aou said, lips twitching upward.

He couldn’t even comprehend the implications of that statement, of Aou potentially, maybe, perhaps, having paid attention to him too.

Boom raised an eyebrow. “Meaning?”

Aou evaded the question. “You look like you’ve been stuck in purgatory for the last hour.”

“That's accurate.”

“Bad dates?”

“Bad is one way of putting it,” Boom muttered. “I had someone rank me out of ten. And someone else tried to sell me on juice cleanses.”

Aou winced sympathetically. “Oof. I had someone ask if I wanted to co-parent a cat. And one guy showed me twenty photos of his car.”

“Just the car?”

“No humans. Just angles. From all sides.”

Boom blinked. “What kind of car?”

“White Toyota. With, like, spoilers.”

Boom nodded, impressed. “Okay, yeah, you win.”

“The cat was cute though.” Aou grinned. “I feel like we deserve some kind of medal for making it this far.”

“I’ll settle for survival.”

There was a pause. But not awkward.

Boom glanced at Aou properly now, and of course he looked good up close. His eyes had that kind of glint that wasn’t just brightness, but interest - the kind that made Boom feel, uncomfortably, like he was being seen in real-time. Not scanned. Not assessed. Actually seen, given undivided attention.

Aou leaned back slightly in his seat, relaxed in a way that wasn’t performative. “Why do you look like you don’t want to be here?”

Boom hesitated.

“I didn’t,” he said finally. “My friends signed me up. I came for the wine.”

“And now?”

“I’m still here.”

“That’s not an answer.”

Boom sighed. “I’ve been on a lot of first dates that should’ve been final ones. You start to lose patience after a while.”

Aou nodded like he understood - not in a way that rushed to fix it, but just… listened.

“I get it,” he said. “You stop showing up with hope.”

Boom hated that this was easy. Too easy. Conversations didn’t usually glide like this. Not for him. Not with strangers. Not without several drinks and a mental script.

He glanced down at his glass. Still full - the one Aou had sent over. He hadn’t thanked him for it yet. He wasn’t even sure he wanted to - like acknowledging it might make it real, and that was somehow too intimate.

Still, manners.

“Thanks for the drink,” Boom said, voice quieter now.

Aou shrugged, eyes kind. “You looked like you needed it.” He paused for a moment, then added, "And you were laughing quite a lot at that other guy. Needed to make sure I keep your attention."

For a second, Boom's heart did a little jump in his chest before he willed it to calm down and tried to rationalize what Aou was saying.

He probably flirts like this with everyone.

Boom looked at him. He had the kind of face that didn’t feel like it had been rehearsed. Not overstyled, not overly aware of its own effect. Just calm, curious, open. Boom’s walls shifted slightly without his permission.

“Can I ask you something?” he said.

Aou nodded. “Of course.”

“Why are you here? I mean... you don’t really seem like the type who needs to speed date.”

Aou looked surprised, then let out a small laugh. “You think I’m doing too well to be here?”

Boom shrugged, eyes down. “You’ve been charming everyone all night. I figured you were just here for fun.”

“I was,” Aou said, voice a touch softer now. “I was actually thinking of only staying for, like, half an hour to see what speed dating is like. But then I saw you.”

Boom’s head lifted slightly, unsure if he’d misheard.

“What?”

Aou leaned forward a little. “You looked... like someone who didn’t want to be here. At all. Everyone else was trying so hard to be liked. You weren’t. You were just... honest. From what I overheard and others' stories at least. I liked that.”

For just a moment, they sat there quietly. Boom wanted to say something, but couldn’t find the right words. Knowing that Aou had actually been paying attention this whole time was a little hard to believe or process. Aou beat him to it.

“You,” he said slowly, “are very much not what I expected.”

Boom’s heart stuttered again. “Is that a good thing?”

Aou gave a smile that didn’t have an ounce of smugness in it, just sincerity and warmth. “Yeah. It is. You made me curious.”

Boom’s chest tightened slightly.

He opened his mouth, unsure of what he meant to say, and instead blurted, “I thought you were collecting souls.”

Aou just sat there for a moment, looking at him, blinked once, twice.

Boom winced. “I mean, like, metaphorically. You’ve got that vibe.”

Aou’s laugh came quick and genuine. “So I’m charming and ominous. That’s new.”

Boom groaned quietly, dropping his forehead into one hand. “I don’t know why I say things.”

Aou was still laughing, not loudly, just under his breath, a genuine sound that made Boom’s stomach twist.

“I was wondering when you’d say something cute,” he said.

Boom buried his face in his hand. “I’m never going to recover from this.”

“I’ll send flowers to your funeral.”

Boom peeked up at him, only to find Aou still watching him, openly, like he wasn’t in a hurry to look away. And for a few perfect seconds, Boom let himself be seen again.

“You’re just being nice.”

“I’m being honest.”

Boom still kept his forehead resting in his palm as he glanced at Aou. There was no irony in his face. Just brightness. Steady, easy brightness, that damn warmth that settled somewhere uncomfortable in Boom’s chest.

“I’ll admit,” Aou continued, “I was kind of hoping we’d end up at the same table sooner.”

Boom lowered his hand again, couldn’t really hold back his disbelief. “Really?”

Aou nodded. “You just seemed... different. Interesting.”

“That’s vague.”

“Like I said. In a good way.”

Boom’s face betrayed him by getting hot again. He took a sip of wine to cover it, but Aou was already looking at him like he knew.

He tried to say something else - he had a joke halfway to being formed - but the moment he opened his mouth, he just bluntly stated, “You smell really good.”

Aou just looked at him, blinked. A beat passed.

Boom’s soul nearly left his body.

“Not what I meant,” he said immediately. “I mean, I did mean it, but I didn’t mean to say it-”

Aou bit his lip, clearly holding back a smile.

“Stop smiling,” Boom hissed, mortified.

“I’m not.”

“You are.”

Aou leaned forward slightly. “You’re cute when you panic.”

Boom hid behind his wine glass. “I hate this.”

“I don’t.”

Boom looked up, reluctant, but Aou’s expression wasn’t mocking. It looked… delighted, even. He was enjoying this. Not just the banter, but Boom’s entire awkward spiral. And somehow that made it worse. And better. He didn’t know what to do with that.

And then - the bell rang.

Boom flinched.

Already?

Aou didn’t move right away. He looked at Boom, like he was about to say something. But the person from the next table was already approaching, scanning their slip of paper.

He gave Boom one last glance. Then he glanced at his rotation sheet, lips pressing into a thin line. “That was quick.”

“Felt like two minutes,” Boom said.

Aou stood slowly, reluctant but polite. “I guess that’s it, then.”

He leaned in, just slightly. Close enough for Boom to catch the faint scent of clean cologne and something warmer underneath.

Boom’s mouth moved before his brain caught up. “Right. Back to collecting souls.”

“Save yours for me.” Aou paused, grinning now. “If we ever get more than five minutes.”

Boom managed to speak, barely. “You might not like me with more time.”

“I think I might like you more.”

Aou gave a small wave and moved to the next table, as if he hadn’t just slipped under Boom’s defenses in under five minutes flat, with that same smooth, effortless walk that Boom had spent all night trying not to notice. One more shift, one more table, back into the crowd like he hadn’t just ruined every other date Boom had ever had by comparison.

Boom sat back in his chair, barely aware of the room buzzing around him.

He should have felt triumphant - he got his moment, finally. The one thing he’d been hoping for.

Instead, it felt like watching a door close that he hadn’t realized he wanted to run through.

Too short. Too late.

And just like that, Aou was gone again.

The next guy was nice. That was the worst part.

He wasn’t aggressively weird or deeply forgettable. He didn’t rank Boom out of ten or try to sell him supplements. He was pleasant. Soft-spoken. He asked about Boom’s work, smiled when Boom mentioned his family, even laughed in the right places.

And Boom couldn’t remember a single thing about him five minutes later.

He kept checking Aou’s table. Or what had been Aou’s table before - he couldn’t quite keep track anymore. Table 4? Table 11? Table 7? It didn’t matter. Aou wasn’t at any of them now.

Boom tried one more time - asked one of the people, whose table he was pretty sure Aou hadn’t been on yet, if they were willing to swap seats for just a round when he could get a bathroom break. The person didn’t even look up from their phone.

“Don’t mess with the system,” they said flatly. “It gets confusing.”

Boom returned to his seat, exhaling sharply through his nose.

Confusing, he thought. Right. That’s the problem.

He let the next rotation happen without trying. He barely heard the introduction. Something about working in publishing. Something about marathons. Boom nodded, offered a few dry replies, but didn’t bother pretending anymore. He felt vaguely guilty about it. But he wasn’t there. Not really.

The hopeful curiosity from earlier had fizzled out completely, replaced by something heavier. Not disappointment, exactly - just that dull ache of knowing the thing you wanted already walked past. He checked the time. Still a few more rounds to go. But it felt pointless. Even if he stayed, the odds were slim that they would cross paths again - after all, that wasn’t really the point of these things. 

And Boom had always been unlucky in love, anyway. It was almost poetic.

When the bell rang again, Boom didn’t even look up to see who was coming next. He was already reaching for his bag, fingers curling around the strap. One more forced smile, one more polite exit, and he could just disappear into the night.

He could feel the weight of the night settling in his chest - heavy in the way that only comes from almost getting what you want.

Five minutes. And now he’s gone.

The chair across from him scraped back.

Boom didn’t look up.

“I thought about writing you a note,” a voice said.

Boom stopped in his tracks. His eyes lifted.

Aou.

Back in his seat. The seat across from him. As if it hadn’t taken several divine interventions and a minor emotional crisis to get him there. Again.

“Wait. What?”

Aou leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table, ring on his finger twinkling in the dim light. “I asked someone to switch numbers with me.”

Boom stared at him. “You... what?”

Aou tilted his head. “I figured we weren’t done.”

The noise of the room pressed in around them, but Aou’s gaze didn’t shift. It was steady. Clear.

Boom cleared his throat. “You really traded?”

“I did,” Aou said. “Didn’t even have to beg.”

Boom tried to play it cool. “Well. Must be nice, being everyone’s favorite.”

“You think I’m everyone’s favorite?”

Boom shrugged. “A little smug. A little charming. Definitely everyone's type.”

“Not yours?”

That stopped him. Boom looked away, but he was smiling before he could stop himself. “I didn’t say that.”

Aou leaned forward. “You looked like you wanted to.”

A short silence followed, comfortable in its own awkwardness.

Then Aou said, simply, “I wanted to see you again, so I took a risk.”

Boom shook his head slowly. “Why?”

“You looked like you were about to leave.”

“I was.”

“I didn’t want to miss my chance.”

Boom blinked again, like his brain was lagging behind the conversation.

“I didn’t think I was your type,” he said quietly.

Aou raised an eyebrow. “And what is my type, exactly?”

“I don’t know. Someone less-” Boom paused. “Me.”

Aou looked at him for a moment, all humor fading from his face - not gone, just tucked away.

“You,” he said, low and sincere, “are exactly the reason I stayed.”

Boom couldn’t find words. His throat felt tight in a way he didn’t trust.

“You’re serious?”

Aou nodded. “Dead serious.”

Boom considered him for a second. Then glanced down at his empty glass, as if it might hold answers.

When he looked back up, Aou was still watching him. Calm. Patient. Not pushing.

“You could’ve picked anyone,” Boom said quietly.

Aou shrugged. “Yeah. But I wanted to pick you.”

Boom exhaled - a slow, half laugh kind of breath. “You really shouldn’t say things like that.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’ll believe you.”

“Good.” Aou went on, gentler now. “You don’t try too hard. You’re smart. Honest. You say weird things without realizing and then try to pretend you didn’t.”

Boom made a face. “That’s not a compliment.”

“It is to me.”

There was no performance in his voice. No smooth edge. It was like he was just speaking the truth and letting it matter, knowing it would work out, one way or another.

“I came here for fun,” Aou said. “I didn’t think anything would come of it. But then I kept noticing you. The way you kept stealing glances. The way you weren’t afraid to look bored out of your mind. The way you looked embarrassed when I caught you staring.”

Boom didn’t know what to say. Or maybe he did, but his brain had lost the script.

Aou glanced down briefly, then back at him. “So I thought I’d ask.”

Boom met his eyes.

“Do you want to go out with me sometime?” Aou said. “On a proper date. No timers. No switching around. No white Toyotas with spoilers and juice cleanses.”

It took Boom a moment to process the information presented to him, to process that what was happening was actually real, and not some cheap red wine and vanilla scented candle induced fever dream.

His voice came out smaller than he expected. “Yeah,” he said. “Okay.”

“Yeah?”

Boom smiled, just a little. “Yeah.”

Aou’s grin widened - real, delighted, open in a way Boom wasn’t sure he’d seen yet tonight.

“Good,” he said. “Because I have much better lines when I’m not timed.”

Boom laughed, a little relieved, a little stunned, a little feeling ridiculous and giddy about the whole thing.

“I don’t believe that.”

“You’ll see.”

They just sat there for a moment, both smiling. They had five minutes, but for some reason, all the pressure had burned away like a lit match in a hurricane.

A waiter walked by, and Aou waved him down casually, the way you do when you feel like you belong somewhere.

“Two more wines?” he asked, glancing at Boom.

Boom nodded, amused, feeling himself relax, a new kind of nerves spreading through him.

“I thought you already won me over,” he said.

Aou shrugged. “I’m not done yet. Let’s just drink these at the bar.”