Chapter Text
Jisung’s date shows up thirty minutes late, and doesn’t even apologize.
He’s just about to finally give up and call it quits when the man saunters into the restaurant with a coffee, and immediately starts complaining.
His date sits down, letting out an exasperated sigh. “You would not believe the day I have had.”
“Oh, hi-“ Jisung starts, holding out his hand for a handshake.
“I mean, how hard is it to make a fucking coffee?” The man completely interrupts Jisung, rolling his eyes to the ceiling. Jisung slowly lowers his hand, ignored. “I had to ask them to remake it three times.” He looks at Jisung with his eyes wide, eyebrows raised, as if asking: Can you believe it?
“Three times! And they had the nerve to have an attitude about it. Like, you work at a coffee shop, your job isn’t even hard.”
Jisung just scoffs, spinning the straw around the ice melting in his drink. Of course. Another disaster of a first date.
After listening to his date complain about the coffee, the food they ordered, and the bill, Jisung is just about ready to walk himself into oncoming traffic.
Not that his date would do anything to stop him. He doesn’t even offer to walk him to his car.
Jisung walks himself back to his car, covers his face with his hands, and screams.
He has to wonder - is he the problem? Is that why every date he’s been on for the past year has been a complete disaster? Does he somehow just attract crazy and unpleasant individuals?
He decides that this is the last one. He promptly deletes the dating app that got him into this mess in the first place, throws his phone into the backseat, and drives home.
…
“Hannieeeeeeee!”
Jisung is welcomed home by a very happy, very drunk Felix. Felix waves a bottle of wine at Jisung from his place on the couch, covered in blankets, face red from the alcohol. “Come sit!” He pats a place on the couch encouragingly.
Jisung removes his shoes and flops on the couch next to his roomate. “Hi, Lix.” He can’t even force a smile for him.
Felix coos rubbing Jisung’s head. “Oh no, what happened? Was it that bad?”
Jisung takes the wine bottle out of Felix’s hand and takes a swig. It burns a bit going down, but the warmth in his belly is a small comfort. “It was that bad.”
“Shit, what happened?”
Jisung takes another swig. “It was, like, comically bad. He was late, told me a story about how he terrorized some poor coffee shop employee, and complained the whole night. Asshole didn’t even walk me to my car.”
Felix hits Jisung on the arm, shouting, “No fucking way!” He huffs, crossing his arms angrily. “Asshole.”
Jisung swirls the wine in the bottle around absently. “It’s whatever.”
It really wasn’t just “whatever,” but Jisung just felt like giving up. He knew he wanted a relationship, and wanted companionship. He knew he had to put himself out there. But every time he tried it never worked out. It was exhausting putting yourself out there for people to just… not care.
Felix wraps his arms around Jisung and pulls him into a hug. His voice is soft, and warm. “I’m sorry, Hannie. You wanna finish my movie with me?” He offers.
Jisung considers it, but he really just wants to go to bed. “I’m okay. Thank you though, Lixie.” He pats him back on the head, and gets up from the couch. “Drink some water before you go to bed, ‘kay?”
Felix rolls his eyes, but smiles. “Okay, mom.”
…
Jisung can’t sleep.
He knows he’s being mopey, but he can’t help it. He’s lonely. He has Felix, who he loves, and his other friends, but he wants more.
His bed suddenly feels too big, too empty.
He decides that if he’s not going to sleep tonight, he might as well do something better than sit alone with his thoughts.
In an attempt to get himself out of his head, he tears himself out of bed, sits down at his desk, and turns his computer on.
The bright, blue light of the monitor fills the previously dark room. It should hurt Jisung’s eyes, but it’s like a balm on his exhausted mind. Finally, he can focus on something other than his pathetic love life for a moment. He can take his sadness and just set it aside for a while.
He decides to boot up his favorite mind-number and time-killer: the video game Overwatch.
Jisung doesn’t exactly like Overwatch. But it does help take his mind off of things for a while. Because of this, he finds himself coming back to it, again and again.
He decides to queue up for the game’s ranked, competitive mode. Probably a bad idea at this hour, but - whatever. He needs the distraction.
The game begins as usual. It was a classic control map. Two teams of five fighting for control over a central location.
Jisung chooses a character from his favorite role, the support category. Playing support is usually a bit of a stressful role for most people, but Jisung loves it. Micromanaging the whole team, making sure everyone stays alive. It’s mind numbing, calming, and meditative, to play support.
The players meet in the middle of the control map, and the first confrontation of the game begins.
Almost immediately - a kill shows up on the corner of Jisung’s screen. His eyes flit over to it.
> leebit (Widowmaker) eliminated wolfchan (Lucio).
Damn, Jisung thinks to himself. Nice fucking shot.
Widowmaker is Overwatch’s classic sniper character. Playing as a sniper requires a ton of practice and skill, which Jisung knows, because he had tried before and absolutely failed at it.
Before he could barely react to the first kill, a second appeared.
> leebit (Widowmaker) eliminated foxiny (Moira).
Getting one kill in the first minute of the match was impressive enough, but two? The two kills had been well chosen, to boot. Both of the enemy team’s support players were now down, making taking the first point of the game a breeze.
Jisung recognizes a team carrying player when he sees one, and reacts accordingly. He makes it his number one priority to keep his sniper alive. He manages to save the Widowmaker from death on several occasions, allowing the player to keep taking the enemy team’s support players down.
The match is an easy win. Jisung smiles to himself, the stress of the day having nearly vanished from his mind. It’s just a game, and he knows this, but it feels fucking good to win anyway.
As the “Victory!” message plays across the screen, a message pops up in the text chat from the Widowmaker player.
> leebit: pocket healer, ty
> leebit: ggs
A proud grin spreads across Jisung’s face. There are two healers on any Overwatch team, but Jisung knows that Leebit is talking about him. He saved his ass way too many times for it not to be about him.
Instead of replying, Jisung goes ahead and sends Leebit a friend request and invites him to a group. Jisung wouldn’t mind having a really good DPS player by his side. They made a good team in the last match. If they continued teaming up, he might even make it to the next competitive rank.
Jisung sends Leebit a message in the game’s text chat.
> hanquokka: hey, wanna team up? :3
> leebit: oh hey, my pocket healer
> leebit: sure
> leebit: ty for saving my ass in the last game, lol
> hanquokka: np, ty for the carry <3
Jisung smiles giddily to himself and queues them for another game.
When they get into the next game, Jisung is even more determined to keep his new partner alive. He follows him around obediently, making sure his health never drops too low.
But one second he is following safely behind Leebit to the point, and in the next second he’s dead.
> jiniret (Cassidy) eliminated hanquokka (Mercy).
“Oh, what the fuck?” Jisung rolls his eyes at his monitor. The Cassidy player had snuck up right behind him.
Barely a moment after this, a new notification pops up in the text chat.
> leebit has joined Group Voice Chat.
A man’s voice suddenly appears in Jisung’s headphones, angry and low. “Agh! That was a cheap shot. I’m sorry, Mercy.”
Jisung’s brain freezes. He was talking to him. He was definitely not expecting to voice chat with this person he met barely ten minutes ago. He knew that some people used the voice chat function in every game, but he had always been too shy to use it himself.
Unsure of how to respond, Jisung just sends a message in text chat.
> hanquokka: asdjsjfksd its okay >___<
> hanquokka: i should have noticed him there ;___;
He hears a little chuckle from the man in his headphones. He continues, “I should’ve warned you. Won’t let it happen again.”
His voice sounds like he might be around Jisung’s age. Whatever microphone he’s using must be expensive - his voice is crystal clear. Jisung isn’t sure what to say, so he just very intelligently sends what he always does when he isn’t sure what else to say.
> hanquokka: ^___^
The rest of the game goes like the previous round, except now with Leebit’s voice in Jisung’s ears. Warning him if there’s someone behind him, asking for help when his health gets low, and helping them plan when to go on the offense or defense. True to his word, he doesn’t let the Cassidy player ever live long enough to get near Jisung again.
Jisung decides that he really, really enjoys listening to him talk. Leebit is an exceptional Overwatch player. Jisung isn’t sure how he manages to hit all of the shots that he does. It’s like he knows where the enemy team will be going before even they know. With his help, they secure another win easily.
“Nice! Hannie, you saved my ass back there. Good job.” Jisung can practically hear the smile in Leebit’s voice. The praise makes him blush. He likes the nickname too. Hannie, from his username. Something about being praised by such a good player makes Jisung’s heart thrum in his chest. So, Jisung likes to be praised. Sue him. He had a hard day.
> hanquokka: are u kidding me! u won the game for us!!!
> hanquokka: idk how u managed to get those shots
> hanquokka: but i am amazed :0
He hears Leebit exhale quickly through his nose, a small laugh. “Thanks, sweetheart,” he says, voice playful and teasing.
Jisung’s face turns a new shade of red. He suddenly feels incredibly small in his desk chair, dwarfed by the monitor in the dark room and the voice in his head.
> hanquokka: askjhfdaksdf???
This time Jisung gets a full laugh out of Leebit. “You’re too cute,” he chides. “Do you not like to voice chat, Han?”
Finally, the question Jisung was dreading. He feels sweat on his palm on the mouse. Why am I so nervous? He asks himself, It’s just some stranger in a video game. I never have to talk to him again if I don’t want to.
Jisung decides to be a big boy about it.
> hanquokka has joined Group Voice Chat.
Jisung tries to huff, feigning indifference, “No,” he says, “I just didn’t have time to join in the middle of the game.”
He can’t even see his face, but he knows Leebit smiles. He can hear it in his voice. “There you are, Han,” he says.
Jisung has no idea what to say, so he sticks with the safe topic: the game they just played. “That Cassidy had it out for me,” he says, pouting.
“You’re welcome for keeping him off your back,” Leebit teases.
“You’re welcome for keeping you alive long enough to keep him off my back,” Jisung teased back.
Leebit laughs, “Okay, fair. You’re right. Thank you, my pocket healer.”
A brief pause. “Wanna go again?” Jisung asks tentatively.
“Sure, Hannie.”
…
Before Jisung knows it, hours have passed, and the light of the rising sun is coming in through his curtains while he continues to play and chat with Leebit.
He learns that Leebit’s name is, unsurprisingly, not actually Leebit. It’s Minho. Jisung just lets Minho simply keep calling him Han, instead of Jisung, maybe just because he wants him to call him Hannie again. Maybe.
Minho is… somehow both easy and difficult to talk to at the same time. He speaks shamelessly and confidently, and easily helps the conversation flow. They only just met, but he talks to Jisung like they’ve been friends for years.
He is also an insufferable flirt.
It takes Minho approximately ten minutes of talking to Jisung to figure out how to fluster him. Not that flustering Jisung is particularly hard, but Minho makes it look easy.
Every time Jisung flies over to heal Minho during a game, he comes up with a newer, cheesier pet name to call him.
“Thanks, sweetie,” Minho coos.
“Oh my god. Shut up.” Jisung rolls his eyes.
“Thanks, honey.”
Jisung laughs, he can’t help himself. “Can you stop?”
“No,” Minho laughs back.
Finally, the last straw for Jisung’s sanity. The next time Jisung saves him from near death, Minho feigns a surprised gasp. He coos, sickeningly sweet, “Thank you, baby girl.”
Involuntarily, Jisung feels his body shudder and heat up. He says something really intelligent and witty in response, like, “Hghhhhhh, stop it.”
Jisung knows he must sound stupid. But he hasn’t slept all night, and he’s not sure he knows how to handle this kind of relentless flirting. Again, he had a long day.
Minho just laughs. Jisung finds he likes the sound.
…
Eventually, when the sun has fully risen in the sky, Jisung hears the sound of an alarm blaring through Minho’s microphone.
“Oh shit,” Minho grumbles. Jisung hears him fumble out of his chair to turn off the alarm. He checks the time himself. It’s… 7AM. Jisung can’t remember when they started playing, but it must have been four or five hours ago. How did the time go by so quickly?
“Okay, so, this has been really fun and all,” Minho starts, “But I have to go to work now.”
Jisung’s eyes go wide. “You have work today?”
“Tragically, yes.”
Jisung is shocked and concerned. “Why didn’t you say something? Did you sleep at all? Are you going to be okay?”
In the back of his mind, he asks himself, Why are you so worried about this stranger? But he easily dismisses the thought to deal with later.
Minho just laughs, a bit sadly. “Thank you for worrying about me, sweetheart. I’ll be fine. I stay up all night pretty often.”
Jisung just pouts and gives an unsure, “Okay… if you insist.”
Minho’s voice returns to its usual cocky, teasing, lilt. “Aww, are you sad we can’t play anymore, Hannie?”
Caught. He scoffs, obviously fake. “No.”
Minho laughs and Jisung hears him typing something on his keyboard. A new chat message. “Here you go, a gift to remember me by.” That smile appears in his voice again. “Let’s talk later. Bye, Hannie.”
> leebit has left Group Voice Chat.
> leebit: (XXX-XXX-XXXX)
Jisung blinks. Is that… a phone number? Did he just… get a cute boy’s phone number playing Overwatch?
He thinks this must be the most insane way he’s ever gotten a phone number from a man in his life. He just laughs to himself, incredulously. He really can’t believe it.
He picks up his phone and adds the name to his contacts: “Minho (Overwatch).”
Suddenly, now that Minho is gone, and the room is dead silent, Jisung finds he can barely keep his eyes open. He crawls out of his chair into the bed, and sleeps like the dead.