“So, how was the date?”

Hong Jisoo practically glared at his best friend as he toed his shoes off at the front door, which only managed to elicit a playful laugh from the blonde boy. Jeonghan was sitting in the living room couch watching some cooking show on the television; why he did so when he was barely even in the kitchen, Jisoo didn’t know, but he couldn’t find it in him to complain at the moment as the brunette wearily dragged himself over to the couch as well. He fell on it dramatically with a soft thud.

“Good, I presume?” Jeonghan asked again, snickering further as he pulled his leg away from the other before Jisoo could hit him. “No need to be violent, Shua.”

“I have never met anyone so narcissistic,” the brunette began to complain, remembering how his blind date went. Granted, his date—whose name he can’t even remember anymore—was good looking to a fault, all chiseled features and impeccable fashion, but it was close to impossible to keep a good conversation. Every few minutes, his date would shift the topic to relate to himself instead, never really giving Jisoo the chance to talk, unless it was to comment mindlessly about the topic at hand.

Jeonghan tilted his head in question, “really? He’s more narcissistic than you?”

“I’m not narcissistic.”

“You won Prom King back in high school once and we never heard the end of it from you.”

“That doesn’t count,” Jisoo said dismissively, snatching the remote from the table counter and changing the channel, despite his friend’s complaints. He’s had a long day, and frankly, he just wanted to pop open a bottle of beer and call it a night. Unfortunately, that didn’t happen as his phone rang a few moments later. He groaned when he read the caller ID. Sometimes he really regretted telling his mom everything that went on in his life.

Next to him, Jeonghan peeked at his phone and laughed.

“Tell her I said hi after you’re done complaining.”

Jisoo got up from the couch and rolled his eyes at the other boy, moving into the adjoined kitchen to take the call.

“Hey, Mom.”

“Jisoo,” his mom greeted, voice filled with warmth even through the phone. “Was today when you went out with that guy your friend set you up with?”

“Yeah,” Jisoo replied, resisting the urge to cut the topic off there, but he found his complaints escaping him despite himself. “It didn’t go very well. He was a lover of the arts, but the problem is, he found himself to be the only art he wanted to look at. It was like going on a date with an audiobook of the guy’s autobiography. I felt like a flimsy magazine next to him.”

“Always so dramatic, Jisoo,” his mom chided him. “I’m sure he wasn’t that bad.”

“You’re right. He’s probably a lot worse than I make him sound.”

She sighed over the phone, but her subtle amusement was not lost on her son, who couldn’t help but smile as they continued their conversation. She asked him the basics—how his work hunt was going, whether he was going on another date soon, and whether she should come over and help him. All of which received answers of varying negativity. After a while, she became a lot more adamant about staying over. Mainly to help Jisoo with his dating problem.

“It’s not a problem,” Jisoo insisted, flustered at his mother’s word choice. “I’m perfectly fine, Mom. Really, I am.”

“You’re getting older. I’m also getting older,” she said, tone wistful. “I just want to see my son happy with someone.”

“Mom, you’re young and beautiful.”

“Still,” she said without a pause. “I have this one friend there who has a lovely daughter—“

“Mom, you know I don’t swing that way.”

“My friend also has a son.”

Jisoo groaned, “Mom, please, I’m fine. I am happy, believe it or not.”

It was at that moment when Jeonghan decided to pop into the kitchen, aiming to grab a q