more than enough ; minsung

the proposal (not like that)

A week later, the invitation is still sitting idle on Jisung's kitchen table. Every morning he looks at it and wishes it would have gotten lost in the mail, wishes he could throw it in the recycling or a paper shredder or a blackhole.

A few times he tries to force himself to answer. He hovers a pen over the paper and mimes checking accept with pleasure or decline with regret. Each time, the 'plus-one' box intimidates him and he ends up taking his pen elsewhere, emotion-puking disjointed lyrics into his notebook. He's written five new breakup songs in the last week.

He makes sure to steer clear of his alcohol stash the night before Minho's class. When he gets to the gym at 10am on the tick, most of the other students have already arrived, stretching and chatting with Minho. Minho is a magnet for teacher's pets. Yes, including Jisung.

Once everyone has filed in, Minho starts class like he always does, sharing a few happenings from his week — "Tuesday I almost got struck by lightning, and Friday I made curry" — and saying something positive about the weather, even though it's raining outside. He's wearing a roomy white-shirt-and-slacks combo and his old sneakers squeak against the floor.

Jisung can't help getting excited, especially when Minho tells them the next dance is the Cha Cha. Jisung likes the driving tempo and meticulous movements. And one time Minho told him he had the hips for it. Jisung blushed so hot he almost got heatstroke.

Jisung is paired up with a nice older lady who smiles every time he messes up. Everybody in the class is a novice, but Jisung admittedly has the least aptitude. He gets by on fear of failure and pure stubbornness and Minho's attention. Every once in a while Minho comes around and wordlessly pokes his back to fix his posture.

After class, while everyone is gathering their things, Minho asks Jisung to walk with him. Jisung is surprised, but agrees quickly and happily.

The gym where Minho teaches is a big concrete building flanked by a playground and a cemetery. Jisung used to work out upstairs where the weights and treadmills are. Then he realized he liked dancing more. And liked Minho more.

As the two file out into the parking lot, Minho says "I'll go to the wedding with you."

Jisung stops and turns on him so fast that Minho falters backward.

"What did you just say?"

"I'll pretend to be your boyfriend." He says it so casually, like he's offering to share a cab. "Unless something's changed..."

"No, I-I couldn't ask you to do that. It's weird, Minho."

"C'mon, it could be fun — free food, a little dancing, pretending to be a successful lawyer or something." Minho shrugs. "I don't see the big deal."

Jisung just stares at him, the spring rain dripping from his hair. Every logical bone in his body is telling him to turn Minho down, but he can't help wanting — so badly — to say yes. How is he supposed to sleep at night knowing he passed up a kind-of-date with Lee Minho?

"I'm gonna miss my bus," Minho is saying. "We can talk more next Saturday, okay?"

"No, wait." Jisung scrubs his face. "Fine. Yes. Please come with me."

Minho beams. What the fuck. Jisung can't believe this person exists. Happy to lie to a whole wedding party just to help a pathetic guy he doesn't even know.

"Great," says Minho. "Let's get together this week, talk details. You know that food truck down the street? Let's meet there. How's noon on Wednesday for you?"

"Uh, noon works."

"Awesome. See you." Minho gives him a thump on the arm and walks away.

What the fuck.

Jisung wanders home in the rain and tries hopelessly to curb his own rising excitement.

A date with Lee Minho. A fake one, but still.