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Minho was mad.
Walking across the restaurant toward the VIP section, he was dressed in a neat, crisp black suit.
He checked the time — 6:50. Great. Minho never liked being late, or people who came late.
The restaurant’s dim lights glowed, soft music played from behind. The manager himself came to show him his table.
But he wasn’t here for a business meeting.
He was here... for a date.
A blind date.
The date was set up without his permission because his mother thought her son was too young and hot to be single.
Which was true.
But Minho didn’t like it — especially without his permission. He’d been listening to his mother’s constant ranting about how he should find a partner and settle down in life.
At first, he just rolled his eyes at the thought. He had never thought about finding a partner or dating, because for Minho, it was a waste of time.
And blind dates were horrible. Why should he waste his money just to eat dinner with a stranger?
Who was, apparently, a guy.
Yeah. A guy. Kim Seungmin.
When he asked his mother about it, she simply shrugged and told him, “You always say no whenever I choose girls for your blind dates, so I thought you might be interested in guys.”
She said that to him with a wink, and Minho just wanted the earth to swallow him whole.
Even if it was a guy or a girl, it was still a stranger. And the whole idea of the date was just absurd to him.
It would’ve been much better if it were a business meeting, he thought as he chugged his glass of water — elegantly, of course.
The ticking clock buzzed in his head as he checked the time every minute. The date was supposed to start at 7:00 — or at least, that’s what he thought, since the reservation was at seven.
It had been fifteen minutes. Minus ten for his early arrival. Still, his date was five minutes late. And for Minho, the guy had already earned a minus point for that.
Taking a sharp breath, he closed his eyes. He would only wait for another minute. Just one. If the guy didn’t show, it wouldn’t be his fault.
He didn’t care if the reservation went to waste, if his mother lashed out, or if the guy thought he was the one running late.
Sixty seconds passed in the blink of an eye. Minho’s gaze didn’t move from his watch. But now, he’d had enough. He stood up from his chair, fixing his already perfect suit.
Standing, he noticed an unfamiliar figure — probably his date — since the VIP section was only reserved for them.
As the person came closer, Minho got a clearer view.
Hair messy, walking like he owned the place, wearing a black t-shirt under a deep maroon zip-up jacket, paired with loose light-blue jeans and white sneakers.
Who the fuck wears jeans in a fancy restaurant? Minho thought.
His date slowly approached him, but Minho doubted it was Seungmin. He’d seen the boy’s picture.
And the person walking toward him looked like... a squirrel.
“Hey, sorry for making you wait. I didn’t know the reservation was in the VIP section,” the other spoke, catching his breath.
“It doesn’t matter now. You’re six minutes and thirty-seven seconds late,” Minho stated.
“Are you a human clock or what?”
“Time matters most to me. I’m a busy person.”
“Dude, it’s only six minutes,” the other said, rolling his eyes.
“For you. Not for me.”
“Chill, mate. I’m here now, and that’s all that matters. By the way, I’m Seungmin — Kim Seungmin.” He smiled, fake and bright.
“No, you’re not Kim Seungmin. I’ve seen his picture. Who are you?” Minho asked flatly.
“That fucker,” the other muttered under his breath. “Well... bingo. I’m Han Jisung, Seungmin’s cousin. He’s... busy on another date, so I’m here instead.”
Minho didn’t even respond. He simply started walking away. Kim Seungmin, his supposed date, wasn’t here — so there was no reason to stay.
Actually, he was kind of relieved. At least he didn’t have to survive a horrible date.
But before he could walk off, a firm grip caught his wrist.
“Where are you going?”
“You’re not Kim Seungmin, so there’s no need for the date. Go home.”
“Just because Seungmin isn’t here doesn’t mean this date isn’t happening, Mr. Fancy Date.”
Minho, burning with anger, found himself sitting back down — though he didn’t understand why Jisung was so persistent.
“What do you want?” Minho finally asked.
“Nothing. Just want to make the most out of the night. I’m already here.”
“That doesn’t sound reasonable.”
“Then think whatever you want.” Jisung shrugged, looking through the menu.
“All I want is to end this disastrous date,” Minho groaned.
“Then congratulations, that isn’t happening anytime soon,” Jisung grinned.
Minho closed his eyes to find peace. Jisung was unexpected — loud, bold, chaotic — and Minho hated that he was still sitting there instead of running away.
By 7:20, their food arrived. It was delicious — the only good thing about this disastrous evening. Judging by how Jisung was munching happily and stuffing food into his mouth, he liked it too.
The guy really is a squirrel, Minho thought.
Once they were done, they walked toward the parking lot — well, more like Jisung followed Minho like a lost puppy.
“What do you want?” Minho asked, opening his car door.
“Aren’t you going to drop me home?”
“Why should I?”
“Isn’t that the most common thing to do after a date?”
“Oh, sorry. I’ve never been on a date before.”
“Oh, it’s alright. You can learn from now,” Jisung said, sliding into the passenger seat.
Minho groaned. Why had he even agreed to this? Closing the door, he started driving, while Jisung smiled in victory.
“Where to?” Minho asked, eyes on the road.
“Umm... take a right from the main road,” Jisung replied, busy on his phone — which somehow frustrated Minho.
“Stop the car here!” Jisung suddenly shouted in excitement.
“Why? Do you live here?”
“No, you dummy! See?” He pointed toward the entertainment complex.
“You’re going there instead of home?” Minho raised a brow.
“Correction — we’re going there.”
“There’s no way I’m going there with you,” Minho groaned.
“Yes, you are. You’re stuck with me for the whole night, Mr. Serious.”
Minho wanted to kill someone. Even after denying him for ten minutes, he still ended up in the complex with Jisung, who was roaming around like a kid.
Inside, the lights from every machine flickered around them. Laughter echoed. The smell of popcorn and fried snacks filled the air.
Jisung found it thrilling, like he’d stepped into another world. The first thing he noticed were the bowling lanes glowing under neon strips.
His grin widened. Without another word, he grabbed Minho’s wrist and dragged him to the bowling area.
Minho never thought he’d visit a place like this — these were for kids, weren’t they?
But still, he was being dragged by Jisung like a parent dragged along by an overexcited child.
“Challenge one — bowling,” Jisung announced, picking up a ball.
“I’m not a kid like—”
Crash.
Jisung struck, leaving no pins standing.
“So, Mr. Cruel Date, challenge accepted? Or are you afraid of me?”
“Huh.” Minho took off his coat and folded his sleeves. “Afraid of you?” He positioned the ball perfectly before rolling it — not even looking as it hit a strike too.
Now this was getting interesting, Jisung thought.
Minho smirked. “Challenge accepted.”
For once, Jisung didn’t know what to say.
The game continued, and every time Minho hit a strike, Jisung’s next throw got sloppier. Still, he enjoyed it — finally, Minho was invested in something.
The game ended with Minho winning by a huge margin.
“You must’ve cheated. I won’t go easy in the next game,” Jisung pouted.
“Sure, Squirrel Boy,” Minho said casually. Jisung’s cheeks flushed instantly.
The next round was laser tag. The area was dark, pulsing with red and blue lights, filled with laughter.
“Get ready to lose,” Jisung grinned, adjusting his vest.
Minho smirked. “Try not to cry when I beat you.”
“In your dreams, Mr. Fancy Pants.”
The match started. Players scattered everywhere, laser guns flashing. Jisung darted between walls, laughing whenever he eliminated someone.
Minho, on the other hand, moved silently — precise and calculated. Annoyingly good.
Soon, the crowd thinned. Only a few players remained — including Jisung and Minho.
Jisung hid behind a wall, his heart pounding from excitement and the fear of losing.
He scanned for Minho’s blue vest glow, but before he could find him, someone grabbed him and yanked him into a corner.
Jisung gasped. He collided straight into Minho’s chest. Neither of them moved.
Their faces were inches apart. Jisung silently thanked whoever designed the room so dark — because if Minho saw his blushing face, he’d never let him live it down.
Neither spoke. Jisung could feel Minho’s breath, too close, too warm. The air felt heavy. His heart was ready to burst.
Minho stood still, one hand on Jisung’s back, the other brushing against his arm. Having Jisung this close... didn’t feel bad.
Jisung looked like a squirrel caught red-handed.
Then his lips curved into a smirk.
“Gotcha,” he whispered.
Before Minho could react, Jisung shot him right in the vest — dead center.
Minho froze as his vest lights went black. Jisung burst into laughter, bright and breathless.
“Told you I wouldn’t go easy!”
Minho rolled his eyes but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at his lips.
When the game ended, neither of them won — but for Jisung, eliminating Minho was trophy enough.
And strangely, Minho didn’t feel mad. Something about Jisung’s laugh did strange things to him.
They wandered through the crowd again — Jisung leading, Minho following without question.
He wasn’t thinking about leaving anymore. His mind was filled only with Jisung — his smile, his voice, his chaos.
Finally, Jisung stopped at a glowing yellow sign — KARAOKE.
“I’ll go first,” Jisung announced, scrolling through the machine before grabbing the mic.
The moment he started singing, Minho forgot how to breathe.
Jisung closed his eyes, fully immersed. By the chorus, Minho found himself staring — he was good. Too good.
When the song ended, Jisung grinned and tossed him the mic. “Your turn.”
“I don’t kn—”
“C’mon,” Jisung whined. “Just one song. I won’t laugh. Promise.”
After a long sigh, Minho gave in. And when he sang, Jisung’s jaw dropped — Minho was surprisingly good.
“Wow... you’re actually good,” Jisung said, clapping.
Minho rolled his eyes but smiled. “But you’re great. Really amazing.”
“Of course I am. I’m a music producer.”
“What— Music producer?”
“Yeah. I’m part of 3RACHA.”
“3... what?”
“3RACHA,” Jisung laughed. “We make songs and beats — kinda popular online.”
“Oh... sorry, didn’t know.”
“Of course you didn’t. You look like someone who was born in a board meeting.”
Jisung winked, and Minho laughed — fully, for the first time.
After some claw machines and wandering, they finally left the complex, the night air cool against flushed skin.
They walked while eating ice cream — vanilla for Minho, butterscotch for Jisung.
“So,” Minho said between bites, “why’d you agree to this date anyway?”
“Good question. Seungmin’s on another date — with Chan, his crush. He’s been crushing on him forever, so he asked me to replace him.”
Minho hummed. “And you said yes?”
“He promised me an entire cheesecake. How could I say no? But I’m glad I came instead.”
“Why?”
“Because if he were here, you two would’ve been fighting like cats and dogs.”
“Oh, interesting.”
“Interesting, my ass — you’d have said 'I hate him' the moment he walked in.”
“I think I said the same about you.”
“But not now.” Jisung stopped, looking at him. “Do you still hate me?”
Minho’s breath hitched. Jisung was close, eyes locked on his. Heat crept up Minho’s neck.
“I don’t know,” he murmured, turning away, heart pounding.
Jisung smiled to himself.
“You coming or not?” Minho shouted.
Jisung laughed and ran to catch up.
The car ride back was quiet — not awkward, but comfortably silent.
Jisung hummed softly beside him, scrolling through his phone, knees pulled to his chest.
And Minho caught himself staring again.
Jisung was loud — annoyingly loud — but Minho realized he liked this kind of noise.
He’d actually enjoyed the date.
When they stopped in front of Jisung’s house, Jisung didn’t move right away. “So... how was the date?” he asked with a chuckle.
“Chaotic.”
Jisung laughed. “I’ll take that as a compliment. Bye, Mr. Boardroom.”
He reached for the door, but Minho stopped him.
“I don’t hate you. Not now... and not when I first saw you.”
Jisung chuckled nervously. “Okay... thanks. Are we getting serious here?”
Minho smiled softly. “Han Jisung.”
Jisung blinked, heart pounding.
“Go on another date with me. Because now I can’t live in silence after you came like a chaotic storm into my life.”
Before Jisung could even respond, Minho leaned in and kissed him.
It was sweet, slow, and full of something warm.
When they pulled apart, Minho laughed at Jisung’s shocked face.
“I think I won this game.”
Jisung blinked, cheeks burning. “We’ll see about that.”
“So... another date, huh?”
“Yeah.”
“Don’t make it chaotic.”
“No promises, Mr. Lee Minho,” Jisung grinned, giving him a quick peck before stepping out.
Minho watched him go, smiling.
He’d never expected to go on a blind date — and fall for a stranger.
But isn’t the unexpected the most exciting?
Blind dates aren’t that bad... especially when your date sends their cousin instead.