Work Text:
It was 9:45 in the morning when Dunk was already at the airport, ready to board. His flight had been scheduled to depart at 9:00 a.m., but it had been delayed due to "technical issues," according to the woman at the check-in counter. As compensation, they offered him a discount on his next trip.
Dunk didn't mind the "solution" all that much. The truth was, the reason he was there in the first place was even more ridiculous than the delayed flight.
It had all started with a crazy plan inspired by *A Lot Like Love*, where two people meet on a flight and fate keeps bringing them together again and again. Dunk, a hopeless fan of romantic comedies and love stories, was tired of being single and of failed relationships, so he decided that maybe the love of his life was waiting for him on an airplane.
That was how he ended up buying six round-trip tickets to different tourist destinations, each with different seat assignments, hoping that love would simply sit down beside him.
At first, everything sounded perfect: meeting new people, traveling, and visiting romantic destinations. His job made it possible. He was an engineer at a tech company and worked mostly from home. As long as he had a good internet connection and his laptop, he could work from anywhere.
Everything seemed ideal. Until it wasn't.
Flight 452 – Destination: Italy
Dunk had chosen the perfect place to start. Ever since watching *Letters to Juliet*, he'd wanted to visit Verona. And what better place, he thought, to meet the love of his life?
He had dressed with care. A crisp white shirt highlighted his athletic build, his hair was slightly messy in an effortlessly attractive way, dark sunglasses hid his eyes, and he wore black jeans. It was a simple airport outfit, but eye-catching enough from the moment he stepped into the check-in line. He was also wearing a rich, noticeable cologne.
For his very first trip, he'd booked a VIP seat. He wanted to start big.
In one hand, he carried a book—not just to seem interesting, but because he genuinely loved reading. His current read was *The Unbearable Lightness of Being*.
Unfortunately, all of his preparation seemed pointless once his seatmate finally arrived.
He wasn't what Dunk had expected.
He was a man in his fifties. Judging by the way he dressed and carried himself, there was no doubt that he must have been incredibly handsome in his younger years—even in his thirties and forties. He still had an elegant charm about him.
But Dunk had a very different kind of "love" in mind.
So he dismissed the possibility almost immediately.
During the flight, he focused on his book, though every now and then the man tried to make conversation. He was kind and respectful. He talked about his company, which manufactured and distributed raw materials for cosmetics, and about his family trip to visit his grandchildren.
The flight passed without incident, and Dunk was relieved when he finally stepped off the plane. Not because it had been unpleasant—in fact, the man had turned out to be delightful company, even showing him pictures of his grandchildren during landing—but because he wasn't the love of his life.
And that detail mattered.
It mattered a lot.
According to Dunk's brilliant plan, he was supposed to be living the beginning of a movie-worthy romance by now. Instead, he'd spent twelve hours traveling, wasted an absurd amount of money, and the closest he'd come to love was listening to a businessman enthusiastically explain moisturizing cream ingredients.
*"This is going to work,"* he told himself as he pulled his suitcase through Verona Airport. *"It's only the first flight."*
He repeated those words over the next four days while wandering cobblestone streets, visiting Juliet's famous balcony, taking pictures completely alone, and eating dinner in restaurants full of couples.
Because yes, Verona was beautiful.
But Verona was a lot less romantic when you had no one to share it with.
Flight 453 – Homebound
*Okay. The first trip didn't go as planned, but there are still ten flights left. Let's try again.*
This time, Dunk opted for a more relaxed outfit: a light gray knit sweater with a navy sweater draped casually over his shoulders in an old-money style, loose gray sweatpants that somehow looked elegant, simple blue sneakers, and a navy baseball cap that gave him a casual, sporty look.
Coffee in hand, he saw him.
The guy was a little taller than he was. Ridiculously handsome. He wore a fitted black long-sleeve shirt, ripped gray jeans, black sunglasses, and white sneakers with caramel-colored soles that matched the leather accents on his backpack. Wired earphones connected his phone to his ears.
Maybe this could be the love of his life.
The stranger sat beside him, and Dunk couldn't help feeling excited. The only problem was that he had absolutely no idea how to start a conversation. His master plan hadn't gotten that far.
Instead, he quietly observed him, trying to think of a topic. That's when he noticed the guy staring at his phone with a slightly confused expression while comparing it to his boarding pass.
"Is this your first flight?" Dunk asked.
The guy smiled.
"Is it that obvious?"
Dunk was pretty sure he'd never seen such a beautiful smile before.
"A little," he admitted with a laugh. "Need some help? I'm Dunk. I've become something of a travel expert lately."
The guy chuckled.
"I'm Pond. I've flown before—I usually travel with my friends. I just had to head back earlier than they did because of work."
His smile faded slightly.
Dunk was about to answer when a flight attendant approached and whispered something into Pond's ear.
Moments later, Pond's ears turned bright red.
"I'm sorry," he said with that same shy smile. "It was nice meeting you. Goodbye, Dunk."
Then he walked away.
Dunk watched, confused, as Pond moved two rows back and took another seat.
A few minutes later, a blonde woman around his age sat beside Dunk. She never even glanced at him.
He didn't care.
He was too busy looking over his shoulder, searching for Pond.
The seat beside him stayed empty for a moment, and Dunk briefly considered asking to switch seats after takeoff.
The idea died almost immediately when another young man claimed it.
Within minutes, Dunk watched him make Pond laugh.
And once again, Pond's ears turned red.
Dunk let out a quiet huff, leaned back, and closed his eyes.
Maybe it really was possible to find love on an airplane.
But once again, it simply wasn't his destiny.
After that disastrous first attempt, Dunk refused to give up. If the love of his life wasn't on the first flight, then surely they would be on the next one. Or the one after that. Or any of the other five trips he'd bought with such ridiculous confidence.
And so began his small—and increasingly less romantic—aerial odyssey.
The following outbound flights took him to cities with glowing streets, seaside cafés, and breathtaking landscapes that looked as though they belonged in a movie. Reality, however, always interrupted the fantasy.
Sometimes his seatmate was an elderly woman who fell asleep before takeoff. Sometimes it was a businessman glued to his laptop. One flight paired him with a little boy who spent the entire trip asking if he was "looking for his mommy on the airplane." Another time, the person beside him put on headphones before takeoff and slept the entire journey.
The return flights weren't any better.
By then, Dunk no longer boarded planes with hope.
He boarded with resignation.
He buckled his seatbelt and watched as the seat beside him was occupied by someone who clearly wasn't the one: a sweet old woman offering him candy, a teenager obsessed with his handheld game, a man snoring before takeoff, a couple who ignored his existence, or simply someone who sparked absolutely nothing.
The pattern repeated itself with cruel precision.
People came and went. They talked to him. Some were genuinely kind.
But none of them were that person.
No one stayed.
No one fit the story Dunk had imagined.
Little by little, even his excitement faded. He stopped checking his reflection before boarding. He stopped planning his outfits. He stopped imagining romantic movie scenes in his head.
Now he simply boarded the plane, took his seat, looked out the window, and waited for the flight to end.
Flight 520 – Destination: Rome
Now he was here: the final romantic destination. Flight number nine. Only this flight and the return home were left. No more trips, and honestly, no more energy or desire to continue. It had all been pointless; there had never been a single success in this plan. And, ironically, he felt relieved that it was finally ending. He couldn’t stand airports, hotels, or airplane food anymore. Worse, he regretted choosing only romantic destinations, because everywhere he went, he saw the happiest couples smiling, kissing, taking pictures. At first, he had found it sweet and charming, imagining that on his next trip, that could be him. But now all he felt was exhaustion… and irritation.
He sat in his seat with his eyes closed, waiting for takeoff, with no hope left. When his seatmate arrived, Dunk didn’t even open his eyes. After four flights, he had stopped using VIP seating; now he always sat in economy, usually by the window. He heard someone placing luggage in the overhead compartment, moving carelessly, invading his space, but he didn’t care—until he felt a hit on his arm.
He opened his eyes, irritated, and turned his head. It was a child holding a piece of candy. Next to him was a woman holding a restless two-year-old. Dunk immediately knew it was going to be a long flight. As expected, shortly after takeoff, the child began crying. Dunk was already overwhelmed by stress and exhaustion from his failed plan, and the sticky candy still annoyed him. It was too much. He stood up and went to the restroom, needing a break from everything. He stayed there for about fifteen minutes, breathing and silently regretting every decision that had brought him here.
When he finally decided to leave, the plane hit turbulence at the exact wrong moment. Still standing, he tried to steady himself in the aisle. A flight attendant approached him immediately. “You can’t be standing right now,” she said. Dunk looked up—and froze. It was the same attendant from his first return flight from Verona. Before he could respond, another wave of turbulence shook the plane. He lost his balance and fell into the nearest empty seat. Without thinking, he buckled himself in and sighed in defeat. The attendant moved on.
Dunk closed his eyes again. He didn’t care anymore. A deep voice broke through his resignation. “That’s not your seat.” He opened his eyes slowly. A man was sitting beside him. Dark hair slightly messy, black hoodie, calm eyes, and a presence that didn’t seem disturbed by the chaos around them. His seatbelt was still unfastened, one hand resting on the armrest, the other holding his passport. He didn’t look annoyed. Just composed.
Dunk blinked. “Ah… yeah, I know. I’ll go back once the turbulence stops.” The man studied him briefly, then nodded and looked forward again, tapping lightly on a tablet even though devices were supposed to be off during turbulence.
Dunk could hear his own breathing beside him. “First time flying through turbulence?” he asked. The man gave a short laugh. “I fly a lot. It’s pretty common.” Dunk nodded. “Same… well, not turbulence. This is my first real one.” The plane jolted again. Dunk flinched. “I think this is the last time I do this,” he muttered.
The man noticed. “Relax. It’s normal. It never lasts more than fifteen minutes.” “Fifteen minutes?” Dunk repeated. “Feels like twenty already.” As if on cue, the turbulence subsided and the captain announced they could use electronic devices again. The man immediately turned his iPad back on.
Dunk noticed he seemed focused, important. The man finally looked at him. “Your seat is two rows back.” “Ah, yeah…” Dunk said, not moving. He didn’t want to go back. The child was still crying. “I don’t think anyone will mind if I stay here,” he added. “It was empty.” The man sighed. “Who said it was empty? That seat is mine.” Dunk frowned.
“I usually buy both seats,” the man explained. “So I don’t get annoying passengers.” He said it calmly, but clearly. Dunk blinked. The irony hit him immediately.
He adjusted himself instead of leaving. Joong watched him. “Are you not going back?” “There’s a crying child over there. Here it’s quiet.” “That’s not my problem.” “I know. That’s why I’m not asking permission.”
Joong stared at him, unsure if he was joking or serious. Dunk leaned back. “Just for a bit. Until everything calms down… emotionally.” “You’re strange,” Joong said. “I’ve heard that before.” “Doesn’t sound like a compliment.” “Depends who says it.”
It worked.
For a while, Dunk stayed quiet. Then curiosity won. “What do you do?” “You said you’d stay quiet,” Joong replied. “I am quiet. I’m just curious.” A sigh. “Director of International Operations for the airline.” “Oh,” Dunk murmured. “That explains the double seats.” Joong ignored him.
“There’s a serious issue at Rome Fiumicino Airport,” he continued. “System collapse affecting multiple flights.” “So you’re fixing it?” “I’m making sure it doesn’t get worse.” “Sounds like someone else’s job.” “Normally yes. But when a hub collapses, it affects everything.”
Silence.
“I’m an engineer,” Dunk said. “I didn’t ask.” “I know.” “Then why tell me?” “Because you told me yours.” “You asked.” “Details.”
Joong finally looked at him again. Dunk smiled. Joong looked away. “You’re exhausting.” “I’ve heard that too.” “I believe it.”
And somehow, for the first time in a long while, the silence didn’t feel empty.
The silence was for Joong, because Dunk was too busy watching everything: the speed at which he typed, the calls he rejected, the emails he answered, even the way he frowned when something displeased him. He usually got bored when people talked about work, but watching Joong work was different. He looked like one of those people who always knew exactly what they were doing, and Dunk hated to admit it, but he found that pretty attractive.
“What?” Joong asked without looking up.
Dunk blinked. “What what?”
“You’ve been staring at me for five minutes.”
Dunk almost choked. “I wasn’t staring at you!”
Joong raised an eyebrow. “Sure.”
“I was just observing.”
“That’s literally staring.”
“Well, when you say it like that it sounds weird.”
“Because it is weird.”
Dunk opened his mouth to defend himself, closed it, then opened it again. “Anyway… do you have any plans to go sightseeing in Rome?”
Joong looked at him. “Are you planning to harass me in Rome too?”
Dunk froze. Was this a game? Was he flirting? Or was he imagining it? Lately, he didn’t really trust his own judgment.
“I’m not harassing you,” he said quickly. “I’m just curious.”
“Sure.”
Joong went back to his screen, but this time he actually answered. “Either way, I told you. I’m here for work. I won’t have time to go around.” He paused. “What about you?”
He realized a second too late that he had just asked something personal.
Dunk smiled immediately, like he had won something. “Of course. I came exclusively for that. I’m very excited to walk through the streets of Rome in the middle of summer while watching hundreds of couples being romantic.” The sarcasm in his voice was obvious.
Joong looked confused. “Are you traveling to Rome alone?”
“Yes. Isn’t it obvious?”
“Not really.”
“Why not?”
“Most people travel with friends, family, or a partner.”
His gaze lingered on Dunk for a second. “And you’re alone.”
Dunk had no answer.
Joong exhaled, almost amused. “You should’ve just bought both seats for yourself.”
Dunk laughed. “If I had done that, we would’ve missed this lovely company.” He gave him a shamelessly flirtatious smile.
Joong looked away, slightly uncomfortable for just a moment—but it was enough for Dunk to notice and smile even more.
Definitely flirting. Or at least that’s what Dunk decided to believe.
The rest of the flight passed between interrupted conversations, Joong’s work, sarcastic remarks, and occasional laughter. At some point, Dunk stopped thinking about his ridiculous plan and simply enjoyed the flight. Eventually, exhaustion caught up with him and he fell asleep.
When he woke up, the plane was already descending into Rome, and for some reason, Joong still hadn’t kicked him out.
When they landed, they walked side by side. They didn’t talk much, but it didn’t feel awkward. It was one of those rare silences that feel comfortable, as if neither of them was in a hurry to leave. Dunk didn’t want to say goodbye. Not yet. Because for the first time since this absurd journey began, he had actually enjoyed a flight—and he wanted to know more about Joong.
At baggage claim, people started to disperse. Dunk knew that if he didn’t do something now, he would probably never see him again.
He took a breath and turned. “Thanks for letting me sit in your seat.”
“You didn’t really give me a choice.”
“You could’ve called a flight attendant.”
“That would’ve been more dramatic,” Joong said. “I prefer avoiding unnecessary problems.”
Dunk laughed. “Then let me buy you a coffee.”
As he spoke, he bent down to grab his suitcase. It only took a few seconds—just a few seconds—but when he stood back up… Joong was gone.
Dunk blinked. He looked around. Left, right, through the crowd. Nothing. Just people rushing through the airport as if he had never been there at all.
Dunk looked down at his suitcase and let out a disbelieving laugh.
“Of course,” he murmured. “Of course he left.”
Because that was how his luck worked. He had traveled thousands of kilometers looking for a romantic story, and when he finally met someone interesting… he couldn’t even get a number.
And yet, as he left the airport, a small part of him couldn’t stop thinking.
Rome was huge. Millions of people. Thousands of tourists. The chances of meeting again were basically impossible.
Right?
And still… ever since this absurd plan began, Dunk had been hoping he was wrong.
Flight 521 – Final Departure
Six days had passed. Six days in which Dunk walked all over Rome: the Colosseum, the Roman Forum, Villa Borghese, the Pincio Terrace. He spent an entire afternoon at St. Peter’s Basilica, another between the Vatican Museums and Castel Sant’Angelo, and ate in so many restaurants he lost count. Some days he worked from his hotel, others he just wandered aimlessly. And in all of them, he tried to find Joong. Instagram. TikTok. LinkedIn. Even the airline system. Nothing. It was as if the man didn’t exist outside airplanes—and that was frustrating. Very frustrating.
Because it was already the last flight. The return home. After eleven flights, thousands of kilometers, and an absurd amount of money spent, Dunk had decided there would be no more attempts. His plan ended here. If love was going to happen, it would have to happen on its own—like in movies—or not at all. Either option was better than buying another ticket.
He had just dropped off his luggage when he heard the announcement: a two-hour delay. Dunk closed his eyes, counted to ten, and decided not to get angry. He went to a café, ordered a caramel macchiato, and opened his laptop. Two hours later, a new announcement informed passengers that their seats had been reassigned due to a plane change. When it was his turn, he was ready to argue—but there was nothing to argue about. His seat was still confirmed.
Ten minutes after boarding, someone sat beside him. Dunk didn’t look up. Until he smelled the perfume. That perfume.
He lifted his head immediately and froze. “Joong?”
The other man smiled. “You’re in my seat.”
Dunk laughed in disbelief. “How?”
“I told you. When you help enough people, they owe you favors.”
“You’re insane.”
“Maybe.”
“Did you actually look for this flight?”
“You’re giving me too much credit,” Joong said, adjusting his bag. “I just asked if there was a seat available next to yours.”
Dunk felt his heart jump. “Why would you do that?”
Joong raised an eyebrow. “Because someone owes me a coffee.”
Dunk smiled. “You’re the one sitting in my seat.”
“Actually,” Joong said calmly, “both seats are mine.”
Dunk stared at him. “You still buy two seats?”
“Only when I want to choose my company carefully.”
For the first time in a long time, Dunk had no words.
“And did you choose well?”
Joong held his gaze for a few seconds. “I’ll decide after you buy me that coffee.”
The plane took off. And Dunk stopped thinking about the destination. Because it no longer mattered who had arranged the meeting, or luck, or probability, or romantic movies. What mattered was that after eleven flights, he was finally sitting next to the right person. It turned out the love of his life had been on a plane all along… it just took ten flights to find him, and two more to convince him to stay.
Months later, Dunk was still traveling—only now, he wasn’t alone. Sometimes he accompanied Joong for work, sometimes they simply used any excuse to visit new cities. And even though he still got tired of airports, layovers, and suitcases, one thing never changed: he always chose the window seat, and he always found Joong sitting beside him.
“Where to next?” Joong asked.
Dunk smiled, looking out the window. “Greece.”
And now he wasn’t looking for the love of his life. Because he had already found him.
The End.
Extra: Joong’s Plan
Joong would never say this out loud.
The official version of events is that he happened to run into Dunk by pure coincidence on the return flight. The reality is quite different.
After arriving in Rome, Joong tried to focus on the airport crisis. And he did… more or less. Because over the next few days, he discovered something extremely annoying: he kept thinking about Dunk. His nonstop questions, his inability to stay quiet for more than five minutes, the way he invaded his seat without a hint of remorse, and that smile—especially that smile.
Joong decided to ignore it. He was a grown adult. He had work, responsibilities, and a full-scale airport crisis to handle. He did not have time to think about a stranger he met on a flight.
The problem was that he kept thinking about him anyway.
So when he finished his work in Rome, he did something he would never admit to Dunk.
He checked the passenger lists, found the return flight, and discovered something inconvenient: his meeting would end too late. He wouldn’t make it. The next flight was not until the following day.
For about thirty seconds, he accepted that like a rational person.
Then he stopped being a rational person.
He made a few calls, called in some favors, moved a few assignments around, and technically, he didn’t delay the flight. He just helped certain administrative processes take a little longer than usual—just enough for the flight to remain grounded for two extra hours.
Joong continued to act as if this had absolutely nothing to do with him. And no one could prove otherwise.
Then he secured a seat next to Dunk, because, after all, someone owed him a coffee.
The part he never mentioned was that the coffee wasn’t really important.
What mattered was finding out whether the conversation was still easy outside of turbulence, and whether that strange feeling that had started on the previous flight was still there.
Fortunately for him, it was still there.
And if anyone ever asked why an entire flight was delayed by two hours that day…
Joong planned to take that secret to his grave.