Prompt: Ficdump

Rating: Steamy Coffee

“Hang up, Kibum.”

“Hang up the damn phone.”

“HANG IT UP! Don’t let it ring another–“

“Thank you for calling Lee and Kim and Lee, Seoulmate Location Service! How can I be of service?” blasted over the speakerphone.

“Yes! Hello! I was wondering when was a good time to come in to schedule an appointment. My roommate? Yeeeeeeeeah. He’s kind of a loser when it comes to getting laid and I want to fix it.”

Minho lunged for the phone, missing both Kibum and the phone as Kibum snatched the phone away at the last minute and ran to the bathroom. Minho gave chase, tearing through their apartment only to have the bathroom door slammed in his face.

“No, you don’t understand,” filtered through the bathroom door and Minho almost gave himself a concussion slamming his ear towards it so he can hear what the dead man walking was telling strangers about him. “He’s ing terrible. He hasn’t had a second date in years. YEARS.”

“KIBUM,” Minho said patiently. “I’m giving you until the count of two and a half before I physically rip this door off the hinges. You come out and you come out now before I plan my story to tell the police when I MURDER YOU!”

“This service is being recorded for quality assurance, Minho. They’ve got your confession on tape. Thanks!” Kibum yelled. “You see, how is he ever going to connect, really connect with someone if he’s like this? Exactly! Exactly! You know what? I like you…what did you say your name was? Jinki. I like you. I like you a lot. I see we understand one another.”

It got quiet and it worried Minho. Like people don’t understand how diabolical Kibum is when he’s had two shots of tequila and they were on their 5th so there was no telling what schemes he was coming up with.

“Kibum?” he said quietly.

The door flew open and Kibum has a smile on his face that either said “You don’t have the balls to kill me, you cretin” or “even if you did, you’d never get away with it, bastard” and believe it or not, it sort of kind of scared Minho, but not enough for him to not be angry at his roommate.

“What did you tell those people?”

“Those people were sweethearts and those people are willing to help you. We have to be there first thing tomorrow morning. They required a fifty dollar consultation fee. I gave them your credit card number. You have to show up for a refund.”

Minho mouth fell open as the bane of his existence sauntered towards his room. “Oh, and wear that red sweater I bought you.”

“I’m not wearing anything!”

“Wear the damn sweater. I’m going to bed. Sweet dreams, frogface.”

—————-

Seoulmates was ridiculously cheesy. So cheesy that Minho refused to take a step inside the building. Adamantly. It was the red and pink painted building and the stupid heart shaped doorknobs and the utterly ridiculous…well actually, the bear standing outside offering free hugs was cute. He was tempted to get one. It was cuddly looking.

“Minho. There are dozens…dozens of women in here looking for love and you’re standing out here as if they have cooties or something! If you don’t get your stupid in here–”

“It’s only women? C’mon dude, we’ve been over this. No women.” Minho huffed. “I’m leaving.”

Kibum sighed. “Well, there ain’t no men down here either, so you’ll actually have to talk to this Jinki guy and see if we can get you laid before Christ comes back.”

“I doubt it. I saw Joon with a shirt on last week, so we all know the end is nigh.”

Kibum winced. “Then we have to hurry up, now don’t we?”

——————

“This isn’t, as you called it, a ’get laid’ service. We honestly work to find not just the perfect match for you, but your one true love. As corny as it sounds, I’ll have you know that it works.”

Kibum listened carefully while Minho picked at his red sweater. A straggly string was hanging at the hem and it was annoying him.

“Minho?”

Minho’s head popped up at the mention of his name. When he’d been ceremoniously dumped into one of the chairs in Lee Jinki’s quiet and not so pink office in the back, he’d been so embarrassed about having to come here that he refused to raise his head. He looked at the owner and the owner looked back at him, a kind gentle smile on his face that for the most part, ease away some of his feeling absolutely pathetic.

“The process is easy and comfortable. I learn as much about you as possible and I use that to find the one for you. That’s all there is to it.”

Minho, still dealing with his embarrassment, leaned forward across the desk. “I don’t know what Kibum told you, but I am not, 1) a loser and 2) I’ve had a second date okay. It was scheduled…he just didn’t…show.”

“He didn’t show,” Jinki said patiently.

“No…he said he had to fly to Guam? Because his grandmother died which was kind of strange because his grandmother has been dead for five years, but I mean he could have been talking another grandmother…”

“Did I mention he’s a gullible fool?” Kibum said from his seat.

Minho took a moment to glare at him. Jinki chuckled and pat Minho’s hand in a friendly manner.

“I wouldn’t call him gullible, Kibum. He trusts easily. Gives others the benefit of the doubt. Those are rare and beautiful qualities in a person.”

“Ha! He said they were beautiful and rare!”

Kibum scoffed. “Thirty minutes ago you were calling him a nutbag witch doctor, and now he’s your best friend. Wonderful.” Kibum turned towards Jinki.

“I’m leaving him in your wonderful care.” Then he turned to Minho. “Don’t come home without a prospect, a phone number, a something.”

“Baby steps, Kibum. Baby steps,” Jinki said warmly as Kibum stood to leave.

“Or how about Mother May I gigantic adult steps, eh?”

————————-

Jinki took him down to a coffee shop, because of course. If they were going to drum up as much romantic sentiment in Minho’s body to produce reciprocal attraction to another human, a coffee shop, as cliché as it sounded, was the perfect place.

“Coffee, black?” Jinki said as he looked down at the mug of steaming black liquid in Minho’s hand. “I took you for an iced mocha kind of guy,” Jinki said as he guided Minho to a seat in the back of the quiet café.

“You don’t think it’s unnatural for coffee to be cold? And with ice in it?”

Jinki scratched his chin. “I wouldn’t say an abomination…” Jinki pulled out a notepad and began to jot things down.

“What are you writing?” Minho asked as he craned his head to look across the table.

“You take your coffee black, no sugar, no cream. You probably don’t like sweets, either? Am I right?”

Minho blinked and pulled his chin in. “How do you know that?”

“Good guess, but I’m glad to know I was right. What’s your favorite sport, Minho?”

“How about you guess again,” Minho said as he leaned back into his chair.

“Soccer,” Jinki said plainly and Minho mouth dropped open. “No way.”

“ManU pin on the collar of your sweater. Nice sweater by the way. Red is a nice color on your. ”

“Oh, thanks.” Minho crossed his arms over his chest. Anything else?”

“For your first date, no. Want me to tell you want I’ve figured out?” Minho nodded and Jinki put his notebook away. “You’re quiet, moody. You’re a traditionalist at heart, you like courtship and all the romance that comes with it, but you’re a modernist by design and you don’t have the time to wait for someone who understands that. You are resistant to changes, you like things they way that they are. Handsome. Tall. Somewhat polite. Nice voice.” Jinki leaned forward. “Actually I’m honestly puzzled as to why you’re on the market. You’re quiet a catch.”

“SEE! That’s what I’ve been telling Ki–“ Minho felt his cheek get a little warm at the compliment. “Wait. Are YOU telling me this, or is this your psychobabble way of telling me I just made your job easier?”

“Both.” Jinki said with a smile.

————————-

A week later Minho was sitting in Jinki’s office again, frowning and glaring.

“He proposed to me.”

Jinki started, his body jolting upright in his chair before he choked on his coffee. Once he managed to swallow what he hadn’t sprayed all over the carpet, he looked at Minho and said “What do you mean ‘he proposed’.”

“You set me up with some kind of serial commitment-phobe and he said his psychologist told him the only way to get over it was to jump right into his fears and by his fears, he meant marriage and by marriage he meant to the man he’d only known for forty-five minutes.”

Jinki looked confused. He pulled out his pad, now full of notes and drawings and annotations about Minho and flipped through the pages. “I could have sworn that was a perfect match,” he muttered.

“Yeah, a match made in heaven.”

Jinki folded his arms over the desk, this time smiling. “Never fret, my pet. I do have some others that fit the profile. This one,“ he tapped the notepad, “is businessman and very well-adjusted.”

———————-

“You ever,” Minho said a few days later, his jaw clenching, “been around someone so self-involved that they forget that you are there. Not like zone out or day dream while you talk. No. He literally walked out of the restaurant, so intent on telling me all about himself and his glorious career and his house on the beach and his car and his new book, that he didn’t even realize I wasn’t following him. He called me thirty minutes later, asking me where I was.”

“Oh.”

“Oh is right.”

Jinki face fell but he nodded and withdrew his note pad. “This one…this one, is definitely going to work. Podiatrist. They tend to be normal. Trust me.”

———————

“He wanted to smell my feet. He told me his mother said you can always “sniff” a good man out. And he wanted to try it. So, because of you, I have some sicko with a foot that knows where I live. Say, are you sure you know what you’re doing? Is this some kind of prank television show? Are you doing this because I’ve wronged you in some way? Like is this some kind of drama where you’re here to exact revenge because of something I did to you in the past?”

Jinki wasn’t really listening to him. He looked over this pad, distraught. “This is the first time this has happened to me. Not one, not two, but THREE disastrous dates? Am I losing my touch?” Suddenly, he threw his head forward until it banged painfully against his desk. Again and again. Minho stood up, panicked, and rushed to slide his hand in the way before Jinki could do it again.

“Why would you do that? You could have hurt yourself!” Minho walked around the desk and squatted in front of Jinki, lifting his hair off his forehead. “You did. Look at you. You’re bleeding.” Minho his thumb and wiped the small cut right above Jinki’s brow. “Do you do that often?” Minho whispered.

“No,” Jinki said with a frown. “I just feel really bad. I really want you to find love, Minho. You deserve it.”

“That’s sweet of you, Jinki but no one deserves to be in love. Some people are just lucky enough to get it.”

Jinki grimaced. “Tell me about it.”

Before Minho could ask what Jinki mean by that, Jinki’s eyes lit up and he stood from his chair. “I’ve got it! I’ve been just observing YOU. I need to observe you in the dating atmosphere. See how you react, see what things you like. Those things can be telling.”

“So, what? You’re going to hide in the bushes after you’ve set me up with Jack the Ripper? Because that’s where I feel this is heading.”

“No,” Jinki laughed. “I’m going to be your date.”

“You? Like pretend or…”

“Of course pretend. That way I can observe up close.” Jinki must have seen the worry on his face because he reached across and laid a warm hand on his shoulder, squeezing. “It’ll be alright. I know I’m not dashing like Mr. Proposal or super rich like Dr. Gloom, but I’ll do, right?”

Minho shrugged. “I’m okay with it if you are.”

————

Minho was having an internal panic attack. On the outside he appeared just fine. He’d dressed the part for their fake date. Well, he hadn’t. When Kibum caught wind of Jinki’s idea, his face lit up and he made it his personal mission to make sure Minho looked to die for (his words.)

Jinki had shown up, looking…well…very good, better than he’d ever looked during Minho’s regular visits to his office. He’d gotten a haircut where his chin length brown hair was now shorter and cropped stylishly like Minho had seen in magazines. He had on a nice sweater, pants that defined his thighs and his cologne smelled like the woods and the sky and everything heavenly. Minho was glad Kibum had spent hours making him look presentable. Anything else would have paled in comparison.

Jinki was also the poster-boy for gentlemen. He held open the door, ushered Minho into the restaurant with warm hand at the small of his back, and let Minho order first. The talked about everything, half of which Minho knew Jinki knew already, but it didn’t feel like the straight forward interviews in Jinki’s office. It felt…warm and intimate. By the end of dinner as they made their way to a park across the street for a stroll, Minho was sure this was the best date of his life.

Which posed a problem. Fake date. Fake dates weren’t supposed to be this good right?

“Minho?” Minho snapped out of his thoughts and turned to Jinki, who was staring at him from in front of an ice-cream cart. Oh, right. He was supposed to be picking a flavor.

“Vanilla.” Jinki nodded as if he already knew that. Soon a cone was in one of Minho’s hand and Jinki’s hand was in the other.

Minho looked down between them and watched as Jinki threaded their fingers together. “Is this normal on a pretend date?” Minho asked quietly.

Jinki his cone before eying Minho. “It’s a pretend date. We can make up our own rules.”

—————

Minho stood at his door, his hands jammed in his pockets and his eyes on the floor. He was trying not to be sullen. On the trip to his house, he’d calculated the odds. The odds being that Jinki was genuinely a good person, that he probably treated all of his dates this way, even the fake ones and that maybe Minho should tell the butterflies in his stomach to shut the hell up.

So this is what a good date feels like. This is what it’s like when you’re in good company and you’re having a good time. The feeling was weird to Minho, but highly desirable. He wanted to keep feeling this way, feeling what it was like when the person across the table seemed to enjoy your presence. He wanted this to last. He just knew better.

“So, did you get everything you needed,” Minho murmured, scuffing his feet against the floor.

“Not quite…” Jinki said, a look of slight confusion on his face. “Did you have a good time? I mean, with me? The date?”

Minho finally looked up. “Yeah. I had…I had a wonderful time.”

“Yeah…” Jinki said, trailing off. “Me too. That’s…weird. I’ve never…this is a first.”

“Your first pretend date?”

“No. My first good pretend date.” Jinki tilted his head to the side. “Can I try something?”

Minho resisted the temptation to roll his eyes. This was another thing Jinki did. Many of their meetings were interrupted with exercises, breathing exercises, role play exercises, scenario exercises. Minho highly doubted he wanted to end his date by counting backwards and imaging he was somewhere in the clouds looking down at his own date and no he didn’t want to describe what he saw. Still, he’d never had it in him to say no to Jinki and he wasn’t going to start now. “Okay, sure, whatever.”

Jinki’s lips felt warm and Minho was saying that not as an spatial observation point, but because Jinki’s lips were now pressed against his and his hand was on Minho’s hip and his warm body pressed against his. Moments later, Minho felt his back press up against the wall as Jinki pressed closer, a hum or a moan or something awesome sounding from the back of his throat and Minho felt all the heat that was in his body drop to his groin.

Oh, no. Oh, no. Oh, no! He was not going to get a woody and have that woody press against his fake pretend date during their fake pretend exercise. He wasn’t! No!

Jinki must had felt it because he groaned again and pressed even closer, which Minho thought was impossible but was happening as he felt Jinki’s hand slip around his waist. Eventually, and Minho couldn’t tell how long they were stuck together like that, exploring each other’s mouths and space, Jinki pulled back, a look at wonderment and a hint of lust on his face. Minho thought that was weird. Either Jinki was a good actor or…

“I think we should do this again. The date thing,” Jinki said as he ran his thumb across Minho’s wet bottom lip.

“Um, yeah. If you think it’s a good idea. If it helps you…you know… do whatever…”

“I mean because I want you to know, I am an expert matchmaker. And outside of the obvious goofs I’ve made recently, I’m still pretty good at this.” Minho laughed nervously.

“Sure. You’re the best.”

“Right. I’m the best. And I think…personally…I’m a good match for you. And you…for me.”

Minho blinked. “You…you do? I mean, I trust you if you do I just want to make sure you…you know…DO think that. Because I think that too.”

Jinki nodded firmly and took a step back. “Good. Great. Okay. Right. Great then. Second date it is. I will um…I’ll call you.” Jinki took another step back.

“So, I’m just going to leave now.” Minho frowned but shrugged, a bit disappointed.

“Oh. Okay. I mean…you can come in if you’d like…but you know…if you’ve got to go.”

“I think it would be for the best if I left.” Jinki nodded again, as if he were convincing himself. He continued to take backwards steps towards the elevator but then he paused.” …oh this.” Jinki closed the space he’d made between them and pressed forward again, capturing Minho’s lips again.