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The days between the video shoot and their actual first date felt simultaneously endless and far too short. Hyeonjun had replayed their encounter at least a hundred times, each memory making his stomach flip with a mixture of excitement and dread. He had even streamed less that week, claiming technical difficulties when his chat asked why he seemed so distracted. He had also told every single one of his friends about the encounter, and the date, and everything.
Now, standing outside Jakeopjang in Euljiro, a popular Korean BBQ restaurant Hyunjoon had suggested, Hyeonjun checked his reflection in his phone screen for the third time in as many minutes. He had agonized over what to wear, finally settling on black jeans and a navy button-down that Minseok, his roommate, insisted made him look "like an actual adult." His hair, usually a mess from hours of wearing his headset, had been carefully styled, slightly parted by the middle to show his forehead. He looked good. He knew he looked good. So why did his hands keep shaking?
Because Hyunjoon was too good-looking. That was the problem.
During the blind date, in the comfortable darkness with only voices and touches to guide them, Hyeonjun had felt confident, articulate even. But the moment those blindfolds came off and he had seen Hyunjoon's face, and that carefully constructed confidence had crumbled. Hyunjoon was beautiful in a way that seemed almost unfair: sharp jawline, expressive eyes, a gummy smile that could probably stop traffic. And he was a manager at a conglomerate. He probably had his life together. He probably owned matching socks and knew how to cook actual meals instead of living on convenience store kimbap and tupperware’s from his mother.
What was someone like that doing when agreeing to date someone like Hyeonjun?
"You're spiraling," Hyeonjun muttered to himself, checking the time on his phone. Seven twenty-eight. Two minutes until they were supposed to meet. He could still leave, claim an emergency, say his team needed him for an unexpected match…
"Hyeonjun?"
He spun around, nearly dropping his phone in the process. Hyunjoon stood a few meters away, looking somehow even better than Hyeonjun remembered. He wore charcoal slacks and a red sweater that probably cost more than Hyeonjun's entire gaming setup, and his hair was styled with the kind of effortless perfection that suggested he had spent exactly the right amount of time on it.
"Hi!" Hyeonjun said, his voice coming out slightly too loud, too enthusiastic. "You're here! I mean, obviously you're here, we planned to meet here, I just meant, well, you look great. Really great. Not that you didn't look great before, at the video shoot, but you know, you look great now too. Consistently great. I should stop saying great."
Hyunjoon's expression shifted through several emotions, surprise, amusement, something that might have been relief, before settling on a warm smile.
"You look really nice too. I like the shirt."
"Thanks! My roommate picked it. Well, not picked it exactly, but he approved it. After rejecting like five other options. I'm not usually this indecisive, I swear, I can make split-second decisions in-game all the time, but apparently choosing clothes for a date is harder than a team fight at Baron…" Hyeonjun cut himself off, aware he was rambling. "Sorry. I'm nervous. Obviously. You can probably tell. I'm usually better at talking, just, you know, usually through a microphone to an audience who can't see me sweating."
"I'm nervous too," Hyunjoon admitted quietly, and something in Hyeonjun's chest loosened slightly.
"Really? You don't seem nervous. You seem really put-together. Which makes sense because you're, you know, you. Manager. Adult. Person who probably has a five-year plan and everything."
Hyunjoon's smile flickered.
“Should we go inside? I made a reservation."
"Right! Yes! Inside! Where the food is!" Hyeonjun gestured toward the entrance with perhaps more enthusiasm than necessary, and Hyunjoon laughed, a soft sound that Hyeonjun wanted to hear again immediately.
The restaurant was busy with the typical Friday evening crowd, couples and groups of friends gathered around tables with built-in grills. The air was thick with the smell of cooking meat and garlic, and music played softly in the background, currently some upbeat track that Hyeonjun vaguely recognized from his stream playlist.
They were led to a table near the back, slightly more private than the others, and Hyeonjun wondered if Hyunjoon had specifically requested it. The thought made his heart do something complicated.
"So," Hyeonjun said as they settled into their seats, immediately grabbing the menu like a lifeline. "Have you been here before? You probably have, right? You probably know all the best restaurants in Seoul. You probably have a whole list of places organized by cuisine type and price range. I bet you have a spreadsheet. Do you have a spreadsheet for restaurants?"
Hyunjoon blinked, his hands folded neatly on the table.
"I... no. No spreadsheet. A friend recommended this place. I actually don't eat out that much."
"Really? But you work in Gangnam, right? There are so many places there. My team and I sometimes meet up at this chicken place near the PC bang, but that's probably not the same as… wait, sorry, I'm doing it again. The talking thing. My chat always jokes that I could commentate on paint drying and make it interesting. Which is probably not the skill you want in a date, right? You probably want someone who asks questions and listens instead of just verbal-vomiting their every thought."
"I don't mind," Hyunjoon said, and there was something genuine in his voice that made Hyeonjun pause mid-ramble. "It's nice. You're very... expressive."
"Expressive is a polite word for 'talks too much,'" Hyeonjun said, but he smiled, relieved.
A server approached, and Hyunjoon ordered for both of them with quiet efficiency: a combination set with beef and pork, some side dishes, and two bottles of soju. His voice was steady, polite, professional. The server smiled at him, and Hyeonjun felt an irrational spike of jealousy.
As the server left, silence settled over their table. It stretched for several seconds, and Hyeonjun watched Hyunjoon straighten the chopsticks in their holder, align the soju glasses, smooth out a non-existent wrinkle in the napkin. The silence felt heavy, oppressive, so different from the comfortable quiet they had shared during the blind date.
"So!" Hyeonjun jumped in, unable to stand it. "How was your week? Did you have to do a lot of meetings? I bet you had meetings. Important ones. With, like, executives and stuff. Making decisions about quarterly projections and market analysis and… I'm doing it again, aren't I? The assuming thing. I should let you actually answer questions instead of answering them for you."
Hyunjoon's lips quirked slightly.
"It was... busy. We're preparing for year-end reports, so there's a lot of data to compile. Numbers to verify. Presentations to prepare." He paused, and Hyeonjun could see him searching for something else to add, something interesting. "It's not very exciting."
"Are you kidding? I can barely manage my streaming schedule and you're preparing year-end reports for an entire company? That's impressive! What kind of company is it? Wait, can you tell me? Is it confidential? I don't want you to violate your NDA or anything. Actually, do you even have an NDA? I signed one once for a tournament sponsorship, and it was so long I honestly just scrolled to the bottom and signed because my team was waiting, which is probably terrible practice, but…"
"It's a manufacturing company," Hyunjoon interrupted gently. "Electronics components. And yes, there are NDAs, but nothing particularly exciting to share anyway. Just numbers, mostly."
The meat arrived, and they both seemed grateful for the distraction. Hyunjoon took charge of the grill with the same quiet efficiency he had shown when ordering, arranging the meat with careful precision. Hyeonjun watched his hands, remembered how they had felt holding his own during the blind date, warm and steady.
"You're good at that," Hyeonjun observed. "The grilling thing. I always burn mine. Well, not burn exactly, but definitely cook it unevenly. My roommate banned me from grill duty after I somehow managed to simultaneously undercook and overcook samgyeopsal, which I didn't even know was possible until I achieved it."
A small smile crossed Hyunjoon's face.
"It's just practice. My family used to eat samgyeopsal every Friday. My dad was very particular about how it should be cooked."
"That's sweet! Family traditions are nice. My family's tradition was mostly my mom yelling at me to get off the computer and do my homework, which I guess is less heartwarming and more typical Korean mom behavior. Not that there's anything wrong with typical Korean moms! My mom is great! She still doesn't understand what I do for a living, though. She keeps telling people I 'work on the computer,' which is technically true but also makes it sound like I'm doing data entry instead of playing in tournaments with actual prize money. Not that I've won that much prize money. Yet. Hopefully yet. My team is getting better, we placed third in our last qualifier, which doesn't sound impressive but considering we placed eighth the time before…"
Hyeonjun realized he had been talking for almost a full minute without Hyunjoon saying anything. Hyunjoon was focused on the grill, turning the meat with careful attention, and Hyeonjun couldn't read his expression.
"Sorry," Hyeonjun said, deflating slightly. "I'm monopolizing the conversation. Tell me about your family? Or your job? Or literally anything about you because I feel like I've been talking about myself for the past ten minutes and you probably think I'm incredibly self-centered, which I'm not, I swear, I'm just nervous and when I'm nervous I talk and apparently I can't stop talking even when I'm aware that I'm talking too much…”
"The meat is ready," Hyunjoon said quietly, and began placing pieces on Hyeonjun's plate with his chopsticks.
It was such a simple gesture, taking care of someone, but it made Hyeonjun's throat tight. He watched Hyunjoon serve him first, making sure he got the best pieces, before taking some for himself.
"Thank you," Hyeonjun said softly. "That's really... thank you."
They ate in silence for a few minutes, and Hyeonjun tried to let it be comfortable, tried not to fill it with chatter. But the quiet felt wrong somehow, not like the intimate silence of the blind date but something more awkward, more strained. He could see Hyunjoon's shoulders were tense, his movements precise but mechanical.
Was Hyunjoon bored? Was this date a disaster? Maybe Hyunjoon was regretting agreeing to this. Maybe he had expected someone different, someone more mature, more sophisticated. Someone who didn't talk about their mom and League of Legends in the same breath.
"How is the meat?" Hyunjoon asked, and his voice was so carefully polite that it made Hyeonjun's heart sink.
"It's great! Really good! You're like a grill master. You should have that on your resume. 'Manager at electronics company, excellent at quarterly projections and Korean BBQ.' That would definitely make you stand out in interviews." Hyeonjun forced a laugh, but it sounded hollow even to his own ears.
Hyunjoon's smile was small, professional. The kind of smile he probably used in meetings.
“I'm glad you like it."
More silence. Hyeonjun poured them both water from the pitcher, nearly spilling it in his nervousness. Hyunjoon thanked him quietly. They ate more meat. The music in the background changed to a ballad, something slow and melancholic that seemed to match the mood at their table.
This was going badly. Hyeonjun could feel it, the weight of disappointment settling in his chest. During the blind date, everything had felt electric, charged with possibility. But now, in the harsh light of the restaurant, with other couples laughing and talking around them, the magic seemed to have evaporated. They were just two strangers who had shared a gimmicky experience for a YouTube video, and now reality was setting in.
Hyunjoon was too good for him. That was becoming increasingly clear. Look at him, sitting there with perfect posture, eating with perfect manners, probably mentally composing a polite rejection text he would send after this disaster of a date ended. He was sophisticated and put-together and probably bored out of his mind listening to Hyeonjun ramble about his mediocre gaming career and his roommate's fashion advice.
"Should we drink some of the soju?" Hyunjoon asked suddenly, his voice still quiet but with an edge of something, desperation, maybe?
"Oh! Yes! Definitely!" Hyeonjun said, perhaps too enthusiastically. "Soju is great! Though I should warn you, I'm kind of a lightweight. Like, two bottles and I start getting really honest about my feelings, which my teammates find hilarious but is probably not the best trait on a first date. Not that I'm planning to get drunk! Just, you know, one bottle. Maybe two. Socially. For lubrication. Conversational lubrication! Not… okay, I'm going to stop talking now."
Hyunjoon's lips twitched, almost a real smile. He poured them both shots with steady hands, and they clinked glasses with a murmured a soft ‘Cheers’.
The soju burned going down, familiar and warming. Hyeonjun had started drinking during his early PC bang days, when the older players had initiated him into the ritual of post-match soju sessions. He had built up a tolerance since then, though not enough to be truly impressive.
They drank in silence, and Hyeonjun watched Hyunjoon's shoulders gradually relax, the tension in his jaw easing. One shot became two, became three. Hyunjoon poured with the same careful precision he had shown with the grill, making sure their glasses were always equal.
"Can I ask you something?" Hyeonjun said after his fourth shot, feeling the pleasant buzz starting to spread through his limbs.
"Of course," Hyunjoon said, his voice slightly softer now, less carefully controlled.
"Are you having a terrible time? Because you can be honest. I won't be offended. Well, I'll be a little offended, but I'll understand. You probably regret agreeing to this date. I've been talking your ear off and you've barely said anything and I know I'm a lot to deal with and you're probably used to people who are more, I don't know, refined? Less chaotic? People who don't compare their lives to video game mechanics?"
Hyunjoon's eyes widened, and for the first time that evening, his carefully composed expression cracked.
"What? No. I'm having a good time. I just..." He paused, poured himself another shot, drank it quickly. "I'm not very interesting. I know that. My life is spreadsheets and meetings and reports. I go to work, I come home, I sleep, I repeat. I don't have exciting stories about tournaments or teammates or streaming. I'm boring."
"Boring?" Hyeonjun repeated, incredulous. "You think you're boring?"
"I know I am," Hyunjoon said, and there was something raw in his voice now, the soju clearly loosening his carefully maintained composure. "My colleagues call me 'the robot' behind my back. I heard them once. They think I don't have a personality outside of work. And they're not wrong. I don't know how to talk to people. I don't know how to be interesting or funny or engaging like you are. I sit here and I listen to you talk and you're so alive, so vibrant, and I'm just... I'm just boring."
Hyeonjun stared at him, this beautiful, put-together man who thought he was boring, and something in his chest ached.
"Hyunjoon. You're not boring. You're thoughtful. There's a difference."
"Thoughtful is what people say when they mean boring but want to be polite," Hyunjoon laughed, pouring another shot. His movements were still precise, but there was a looseness to them now, a relaxation that hadn't been there before.
"No, seriously, listen to me." Hyeonjun leaned forward, bold now by soju and sincerity. "During the blind date, when we couldn't see each other, you were amazing. The way you listened, not just waiting for your turn to talk. The way you asked questions. The way you held my hand like it mattered when you didn’t even knew me. That's not boring. That's rare. Most people are so busy trying to be interesting that they forget to be present, but you're present. You're here. You're paying attention. Do you know how valuable that is?"
Hyunjoon looked down at his hands, at the empty shot glass he was turning between his fingers.
"I wanted to be interesting for you. You're so... you're like a star. You shine. And I'm just…"
"You're the person who makes sure the star doesn't burn out," Hyeonjun interrupted. "You're steady. You're grounding. I talk a lot because I'm anxious and I fill silence because silence scares me. But with you, during the blind date, the silence didn't scare me. It felt safe. You made it feel safe. Now it’s a bit scary because I didn’t knew how you felt. But you feel safe."
Hyunjoon looked up, his eyes slightly glassy from soju but focused on Hyeonjun's face with an intensity that made Hyeonjun's breath catch.
"Really?"
"Really," Hyeonjun confirmed. "And honestly? I think you're intimidatingly good-looking and I've been terrified all night that you would realize I'm just a guy who plays video games in his bedroom and lives on convenience store food and you would leave. But now you're telling me you think you're boring, and it's kind of hilarious because we've both been sitting here convinced the other person is too good for us."
A laugh burst out of Hyunjoon, surprised and genuine, and Hyeonjun felt like he had won some kind of championship.
"That is pretty ridiculous."
"Extremely ridiculous," Hyeonjun agreed, grinning. "We're ridiculous. This whole situation is ridiculous."
"I'm drunk," Hyunjoon admitted, his words slightly slurred at the edges. "I don't usually drink this much."
"I can tell. You're smiling more. It's a good look on you. You should do it more often."
"My colleagues think smiling is unprofessional," Hyunjoon said, and then seemed to realize what he had said. "That sounds terrible. They're not bad people. They're just... serious."
"Well, I'm not your colleague, so you can smile as much as you want around me." Hyeonjun poured them both another shot, pleasantly buzzed now, the nervous energy that had been plaguing him all evening finally dissipating. "In fact, I encourage it. I demand it. New rule: when we're together, you have to smile at least once every five minutes."
"That's a lot of smiling," Hyunjoon said, but he was smiling as he said it, a real smile that reached his eyes.
"You're already exceeding expectations," Hyeonjun teased.
They finished the second bottle of soju, and then, somehow, a third. The conversation flowed more easily now, encouraged by alcohol and honesty. Hyunjoon talked about his job, actually talked about it, not just the surface-level description but the challenges, the satisfaction of solving complex problems, the pressure of expectations. He talked about growing up in Changwon, about his family's expectations, about choosing stability over passion because that's what was safe.
Hyeonjun talked about gaming, about the high of winning a match, the camaraderie of his team, the terror and thrill of streaming to thousands of people. He talked about his family's disappointment when he had chosen gaming over university, about proving himself, about the fear that he would never be good enough.
They found common ground in unexpected places: both of them driven by a need to prove something, both of them careful with their hearts, both of them surprised to find themselves here, on this date, with each other.
"I can't believe you thought I was too good-looking to date you," Hyunjoon said, his words definitely slurred now, his cheeks flushed from alcohol. "Have you looked in a mirror? You're gorgeous."
Hyeonjun felt his face heat up, and not just from the soju.
"I'm really not. I'm okay. Average. You, though? You could be a model. You have a stare that could cut glass."
"Your eyes do this thing when you smile," Hyunjoon continued, apparently too drunk to be embarrassed. "They crinkle at the corners. It's adorable. I noticed during the blind date, when we took off the blindfolds. I thought, 'Oh no, his eyes crinkle, I'm in trouble.'"
"You're drunk," Hyeonjun said fondly.
"Very drunk," Hyunjoon agreed. "But still right about your eyes."
They paid the bill, splitting it despite Hyunjoon's tipsy insistence that he should pay for everything because he was older and had a "real job." Hyeonjun argued that his job was real, and Hyunjoon immediately apologized, horrified at the implication, and they ended up laughing at themselves again.
Outside, the air was cold and sharp, a stark contrast to the warm interior of the restaurant. Hyeonjun shivered, and Hyunjoon swayed slightly, steadying himself against the building.
"Where do you live?" Hyeonjun asked. "Do you need help getting home?"
"I live around here," Hyunjoon said. "Not far. I can walk."
"Can you, though?" Hyeonjun gestured at Hyunjoon's slightly unsteady stance. "Because you look like you might walk into a pole."
"I have excellent spatial awareness," Hyunjoon insisted with drunken dignity. "I never walk into poles."
"Famous last words," Hyeonjun said, but he was smiling. An idea struck him, bold and exciting. "Hey, do you want to get more drinks? There's this LP bar near here that opened last month! I've been wanting to check out. My teammate mentioned it. We could go together. If you want. No pressure. We've already drunk a lot so maybe it's a terrible idea but also it could be fun?"
Hyunjoon's face lit up, unguarded in his intoxication.
“Yes. I know that place. It's near my apartment. I walk past it every day but I've never gone in. I always thought it looked nice but I didn't want to go alone."
"Perfect! Then it's settled. Lead the way, Euljiro resident."
Hyunjoon walked with exaggerated care, clearly trying to prove his spatial awareness claim, and Hyeonjun stayed close, ready to catch him if needed. The streets were busy with Friday night crowds, couples and groups of friends spilling out of restaurants and bars.
"Can I tell you something?" Hyunjoon said as they waited at a crosswalk.
"Always."
"I almost cancelled. This date. I was so nervous. I thought you would take one look at me in normal lighting and realize I wasn't interesting enough. During the blind date, I could be anyone. I could be mysterious. But now you can see me and I'm just... me. Boring office worker me."
"I'm glad you didn't cancel," Hyeonjun said softly. "And for the record, I like 'boring office worker you.' I like how you grilled the meat perfectly. I like how you pour soju with the same precision you probably use for your reports. I like how you listened to me ramble without making me feel like I was annoying. I like how you're drunk right now and telling me things you probably wouldn't say sober."
"I like drunk me too," Hyunjoon said seriously. "He is more honest."
"Maybe you should be drunk more often."
"That seems like poor life advice."
"Terrible life advice," Hyeonjun agreed. "Don't listen to me. I once tried to eat instant noodles while playing ranked and spilled boiling water on my keyboard. My decision-making is questionable at best."
Hyunjoon laughed, loud and unrestrained, and several passersby turned to look. He didn't seem to notice or care.
"Did the keyboard survive?"
"It did not. Rest in peace, mechanical keyboard number three. You served me well for almost six months."
"Number three?" Hyunjoon asked. "How many keyboards have you killed?"
"I don't think we know each other well enough for me to answer that question honestly."
They turned onto a quieter street, the noise of the main road fading. Euljiro at night had a different character than the busy commercial districts, more intimate. Old buildings stood next to new developments, small workshops next to trendy cafes, a neighborhood in transition. One that was still famous, but less acknowledged.
"It's down here," Hyunjoon said, "The LP bar. It's called '평균율' or something like that. I always thought it was a clever name. Average rate. Because records are from the old days but they charge the average rate for a drink, instead of pushing prices to excessive numbers."
"You're explaining the pun," Hyeonjun laughed, delighted. "You're so drunk."
"I rarely drink," Hyunjoon said defensively. "This is unusual behavior for me. I'm usually very composed."
"I like unusual behavior you," Hyeonjun said. "He explains puns and admits to being nervous and smiles a lot, noted.”
"I like you too," Hyunjoon said, then seemed to realize what he had said. "I mean, I like spending time with you. Not that I don't like you as a person. I do like you as a person. Very much. I just meant…"
"I know what you meant," Hyeonjun said gently, warmth spreading through his chest that had nothing to do with soju. "I like spending time with you too."
The LP bar was small. The entrance was marked only by a small wooden sign with a vinyl record carved into it. Through the window, Hyeonjun could see warm lighting and shelves lined with records, a few customers sitting at the bar.
"Here it is," Hyunjoon said, pushing open the door.
Inside, the bar was exactly what Hyeonjun had hoped for: intimate and cozy, with wooden walls and vintage posters. A turntable sat behind the bar, currently playing something jazzy and mellow. The bartender, a woman in her forties with short silver hair, nodded at them as they entered.
"Sit anywhere," she said.
They chose a corner table, away from the few other customers. The menu was simple: whiskey, wine, beer, and some basic cocktails. Hyeonjun ordered a whiskey neat, wanting to slow down his drinking pace. Hyunjoon ordered the same, then immediately looked worried.
"I probably shouldn't drink more," he said. "I'm already very drunk."
"We can take it slow," Hyeonjun assured him. "Just sip. Enjoy the music. There is no rush."
The whiskey arrived in crystal tumblers, amber liquid catching the warm light. A new record started playing, something older, maybe from the seventies, with a smooth baseline and dreamy vocals.
"So," Hyeonjun said, settling into his chair. "Honest opinions. How do you think the date went? Like, the actual blind date. Before all of this."
Hyunjoon took a small sip of whiskey, wincing slightly at the burn.
"Honestly? I was terrified the entire time. I couldn't see you, which should have made it easier, but somehow it made it worse. Every word felt like it had too much weight. I kept second-guessing everything I said."
"Really? You seemed so calm. Your voice was steady. I was the one rambling like an idiot."
"You weren't rambling. You were passionate. There's a difference." Hyunjoon traced the rim of his glass with one finger. "I liked listening to you talk. You got excited about things. Your voice changed, got faster, more animated. It made me want to know everything about what you were talking about, even though I don't play games."
"I was worried I was boring you," Hyeonjun admitted. "Gaming isn't everyone's thing. Most people glaze over when I start talking about it."
"I wasn't bored. Not for a second." Hyunjoon's eyes were sincere, the alcohol making him more open than he probably intended. "I was fascinated. Not just by the games, but by you. The way you described your team, the competitions, the pressure of performing in front of an audience. It reminded me that passion can exist in anything, even things I don't understand."
Hyeonjun felt his chest tighten with emotion.
"That might be the nicest thing anyone's ever said about my gaming career."
"Your family doesn't support it?" Hyunjoon asked gently.
"They're coming around. Slowly. My mom still introduces me as 'my son who works with computers' to her friends, it completely misses the point." Hyeonjun laughed, but there was a hint of sadness in it. "What about you? Does your family know about the blind date?"
"No," Hyunjoon said immediately. "God, no. My parents would have a thousand questions. They've been not-so-subtly hinting that I should be dating, settling down, thinking about marriage. They don't understand that work takes up so much of my time."
"Or maybe work takes up so much time because it's safer than dating?" Hyeonjun suggested carefully.
Hyunjoon looked at him, surprised.
“That's... probably accurate. Work has clear rules. Clear expectations. Dating is messy and unpredictable."
"And yet here you are, on a messy, unpredictable date with me."
"Here I am," Hyunjoon agreed, a small smile playing at his lips. "Drunk in an LP bar in my own neighborhood with someone I met while blindfolded. If my colleagues could see me now, they wouldn't believe it."
"Good," Hyeonjun said firmly. "They don't get to see this version of you. This is my version of you."
Hyunjoon's smile widened.
"Your version of me?"
"The one who explains puns and admits he is nervous and drinks too much soju and looks at me like I'm saying something important even when I'm talking about keyboard mechanics."
"You are saying something important," Hyunjoon insisted. "Everything you say is important to me. I want to know everything. What your favorite game is, what you eat for breakfast, what you do on Sundays, what makes you laugh, what scares you. All of it."
Hyeonjun's heart was racing now, and it definitely wasn't from the alcohol.
"That's a lot of questions."
"We have time," Hyunjoon said. "Don't we? This isn't just tonight. This can be more than tonight. If you want."
"I want," Hyeonjun said without hesitation. "I really, really want."
They talked for hours, about everything and nothing. Hyeonjun learned that Hyunjoon woke up at 5:30 every morning, that he had a younger sister who lived in Busan, that he collected pens as a hobby, that he once wanted to be an architect but chose finance because it was more practical. Hyunjoon learned that Hyeonjun's favorite game changed every few months, although he always played League as that was his teams game, that he was terrible at cooking anything that wasn't instant noodles, that he had a cat named Dori who regularly knocked over his equipment during streams, that he was scared of failing but more scared of never trying.
The bar slowly emptied around them, other customers leaving in pairs and small groups. The record changed several times, moving through decades and genres. Jazz gave way to rock, rock to indie, indie to something classical that Hyeonjun didn't recognize but found beautiful.
"Can I ask you something?" Hyunjoon said, his words less slurred now but still loose with alcohol. "During the blind date, when we took off the blindfolds, what did you think? First impression, honest answer."
Hyeonjun considered lying, making it casual, but something about the warm lighting and the late hour and Hyunjoon's open expression made him tell the truth.
"I already told you I thought you were so handsome it was almost unfair. And then I thought, 'He's going to leave. He's going to see me properly and realize he can do better and this is going to end before it starts.' I was already preparing myself for disappointment."
"That's ridiculous," Hyunjoon said. "Have I mentioned I had the same thought about you? When I saw your face properly, without the blindfold shadows, I thought you were beautiful. Your smile, your eyes, the way you looked at me like you were happy to see me. I thought there was no way someone who looked like that would be interested in someone like me."
"We're both idiots," Hyeonjun said fondly.
"Complete idiots," Hyunjoon agreed. "But at least we're idiots together."
The bartender approached their table, apologetic smile on her face.
"Sorry guys, but we're closing soon. Last call was twenty minutes ago."
Hyeonjun checked his phone, shocked to see it was past twelve already. They had been together for over five hours.
"Wow. I didn't realize how late it got."
"Time flies," Hyunjoon said, then seemed to make a decision. He looked nervous suddenly, his confidence from earlier wavering. "I live really close. Just two blocks from here. If you want, we could... we could have one more drink at my place? And maybe order some food? I know we already ate but I'm getting hungry again and there's a great chicken place that delivers late and…"
"Yes," Hyeonjun interrupted, unable to stop his grin. "Yes, I would love that."
Hyunjoon looked relieved and terrified in equal measure.
“Okay. Good. Great. Just so you know, my apartment is probably messy. I didn't expect to bring anyone home tonight. Or any night, really. I haven't had anyone over in months."
"I literally spilled noodles on my keyboard," Hyeonjun reminded him. "I'm not judging anyone's living situation."
They paid their tab, Hyeonjun insisting on covering it this time since Hyunjoon would order the food later.
Hyunjoon walked with more confidence now, the alcohol settling into a steady buzz rather than the wobbly intoxication from earlier.
"This way," he said, leading them down a side street.
Hyunjoon's apartment building was modest, a five-story structure that looked like it had been built in the nineties. They took the elevator to the third floor, Hyunjoon fumbling slightly with his keys before getting the door open.
"Welcome to my humble home," he said, stepping aside to let Hyeonjun enter.
The apartment was small but tidy, contradicting Hyunjoon's warnings about messiness. A simple living room with a couch and TV, a small kitchen area, a door that presumably led to the bedroom and bathroom. Everything was organized, minimalist, the space of someone who spent most of their time at work. The only personal touches were a shelf of books and a small collection of pens in a display case.
"It's nice," Hyeonjun said honestly. "Very you. Clean, organized, peaceful."
"Boring," Hyunjoon said, taking off his shoes.
"Stop calling yourself boring," Hyeonjun said, removing his own shoes. "If I have to hear you say that word one more time, I'm going to start listing every interesting thing about you, and we will be here all night."
"We're already here all night," Hyunjoon pointed out, but he was smiling.
"Then I'll list things until morning."
Hyunjoon gestured to the couch.
"Make yourself comfortable. I'll order the chicken. What do you like? They have regular fried, spicy, soy garlic, cheese…"
"Spicy," Hyeonjun said, settling onto the couch. It was comfortable, firm but not too hard. "Always spicy."
"I'll get half spicy, half soy garlic. Best of both worlds." Hyunjoon pulled out his phone, ordering with the ease of someone who did this often. "The app said thirty minutes. Do you want beer? Water? I have some wine somewhere, I think."
"Water is good," Hyeonjun said. "I should probably stop drinking before I do something embarrassing."
"Like what?" Hyunjoon asked, bringing two glasses of water from the kitchen.
"Like telling you how much I like you, again,” Hyeonjun said, then froze. "Which I apparently just did anyway. Ignore that."
"No," Hyunjoon said, sitting down next to him, closer than strictly necessary. "Don't ignore it. I like hearing it. I like you too. Obviously. I don't normally invite people to my apartment. Especially not people I just met. But you don't feel like someone I just met. You feel like someone I've known for much longer."
"The blindfolds," Hyeonjun said. "Maybe not being able to see each other made us skip past the surface stuff. We had to actually talk, actually listen."
"Maybe," Hyunjoon agreed. "Or maybe we just click. Some people do. They meet and it just works."
"Is this working?" Hyeonjun asked. "For you, I mean. This whole thing. The date, the drinks, now this. Is it what you expected?"
Hyunjoon considered the question seriously, his tipsy openness making him thoughtful rather than careless.
“It's better than I expected. And also scarier. I expected awkward silence and forced conversation and maybe a polite goodbye at the end of the night. Instead, I got you. I got easy conversation and genuine laughter and feeling like I could say anything and you would understand. That's terrifying because now I have something to lose."
"You're not going to lose it," Hyeonjun said softly. "I'm not going anywhere. Unless you want me to, in which case I'll call a taxi right now, no hard feelings."
"I don't want you to go," Hyunjoon said immediately. "I want you to stay and eat fried chicken and tell me more about your life and maybe fall asleep on my couch if it gets too late. I want to wake up tomorrow and text you and make plans to see you again. I want this to be the start of something, not just a one-time thing."
Hyeonjun's chest felt tight with emotion.
"That's exactly what I want too."
They talked while they waited for the food, quieter now, the late hour and the intimacy of the apartment making everything feel softer, more precious. Hyunjoon showed him the fountain pen collection, explaining the different nibs and inks with the same careful precision he probably used at work. Hyeonjun showed him pictures of Dori, his orange tabby cat, and videos of his streaming setup.
The chicken arrived right on time, crispy and hot and perfect. They ate sitting on the floor, the boxes spread out on the coffee table, both of them hungrier than they had realized. The spicy chicken was perfectly seasoned, the soy garlic sweet and savory.
"This is so good," Hyeonjun said around a mouthful of chicken. "Why don't I live in Euljiro? The food delivery options are incredible."
"Where do you live?" Hyunjoon asked.
"Near Hongdae. It's convenient for my team meetings and there are a lot of PC cafes, but the rent is getting ridiculous."
"Euljiro is cheaper," Hyunjoon said. "And quieter. Though maybe less exciting for someone your age."
"Someone my age," Hyeonjun repeated, amused. "You're only two years older than me."
"Two years is significant," Hyunjoon insisted. "I'm a responsible adult with a savings account and a retirement plan. You're young and spontaneous and living your dreams."
"You could be spontaneous," Hyeonjun said. "You're being spontaneous right now. You invited me to your apartment. That's spontaneous."
"This is wildly out of character for me," Hyunjoon admitted. "Tomorrow I'm going to wake up and not believe I did this."
"Well, I'll text you tomorrow to confirm it really happened," Hyeonjun promised. "With photographic evidence if necessary."
They finished the chicken, cleaned up the boxes, and settled back onto the couch. Hyeonjun checked his phone and was shocked to see it was almost three in the morning.
“I should probably head home soon. I have a team meeting tomorrow afternoon and I need at least a few hours of sleep."
Hyunjoon looked disappointed but nodded.
"Let me call you a taxi."
"I can call one," Hyeonjun said, but Hyunjoon was already pulling out his phone.
"I invited you here. The least I can do is make sure you get home safely." He tapped on his screen a few times. "There. It will be here in five minutes."
They stood by the door, neither of them quite ready to say goodbye. Hyeonjun put on his shoes, Hyunjoon hovering nearby.
"Thank you," Hyeonjun said. "For tonight. For all of it. The dinner, the drinks, the chicken, the conversation. Everything."
"Thank you," Hyunjoon echoed. "For giving me a chance. For not leaving when you saw my face. For laughing at my terrible attempts at humor. For being patient with drunk me."
"Drunk you is great," Hyeonjun said. "But I'm looking forward to getting to know sober you better too."
"He is less fun but more coherent," Hyunjoon warned.
"I'll take it."
Hyunjoon's phone buzzed.
“Your taxi is here."
They walked down to the entrance together, Hyunjoon insisting on seeing him off. The taxi was waiting, engine running. Hyeonjun turned to say goodbye and found Hyunjoon looking at him with an expression so tender it made his heart skip.
"Text me when you get home," Hyunjoon said. "So I know you made it safely."
"I will," Hyeonjun promised. He hesitated, then acted on impulse, reaching out to squeeze Hyunjoon's hand briefly. "Tonight was perfect."
"It really was," Hyunjoon agreed, squeezing back before letting go.
Hyeonjun got into the taxi, giving the driver his address. As they pulled away, he looked back to see Hyunjoon still standing there, watching the car disappear down the street.
The ride home felt both too long and too short. Hyeonjun's mind was racing, replaying every moment of the evening, every word, every smile. He felt giddy and nervous and hopeful in a way he hadn't felt in years.
When he got home, Dori greeted him with annoyed meows, clearly displeased at being left alone so long. Hyeonjun fed him, then collapsed onto his bed, pulling out his phone.
Hyunjoon (blind date):
made it home safely!!!!
dori is mad at me for staying out late but it was worth it
The response came almost immediately.
Hyunjoon (blind date):
Glad you're home safe. I had a great time tonight. I'm still not entirely sure it was real and not some elaborate dream.
very real, i have the soy garlic chicken taste in my mouth to prove it
When can I see you again?
Too eager?
I might be too eager. Drunk me has no chill.
not too eager at all
i'm free this weekend if you are?
Saturday? I'll take you somewhere.
Let me plan it. I want to impress you.
you already impressed me
but I'm not going to say no to you planning a date
Saturday then. I'll text you details tomorrow when I'm sober and can form complete thoughts.
looking forward to it, sleep well
You too, Hyeonjun. Sweet dreams.
Hyeonjun set his phone down, still smiling, and stared at the ceiling. Tomorrow he would wake up and probably overthink everything, analyze every word, worry about whether he had said too much or not enough. But tonight, right now, he just let himself feel happy.
The blind date had turned into something neither of them expected. Something real. Something with potential. And as Hyeonjun finally drifted off to sleep, his last thought was that maybe, just maybe, this was the start of something extraordinary.