Chapter Text
Felix @yong.lixx 15 hours ago
Blueprint’s Lee Minho, one of the hottest bachelors in the industry - A thread 🧵
Minho’s eyebrows drew closer, his lips a thin line, taut with annoyance. He shifted one leg over the other, settling more comfortably into his chair to read.
Lee Minho (35), co-founder of the design giant Blueprint, is a man of precision. Ask anyone who’s worked with him, and they’ll tell you: he can spot a misplaced comma from fifty feet away.
He stopped, jaw flexing. "Excuse me?" he muttered as he thumbed the screen.
In Minho-time, an eight-hour workday is just a lunch break. Public sightings of Lee Minho are rare—but when they happen, countless eyes are following him. Tailored suits, polished shoes, not a hair out of place, he always draws everyone’s attention to him. Even his casual looks feel like they’ve been styled by a team of five. Rumor has it, his idea of relaxing is answering emails at midnight.
"Felix…?" He didn’t finish the sentence, only glanced over the edge of the tablet, where Felix was beaming back at him.
"You like it?" Felix asked, giggling, knowing perfectly well that Minho didn’t.
Together with his long-suffering co-founder, Kim Seungmin, he built Blueprint from a two-desk startup into one of the fastest-rising names in design. Together, they reinvented furniture into something that manages to be luxurious, innovative, and just clever enough to make people wonder why no one thought of it before. Next on their agenda: hosting a charity art auction, the kind of glittering event that promises overpriced champagne, art that will alter your life experience, and another rare public appearance from perennially single Lee Minho himself.
Will Lee Minho change the industry once again? Or will you be the one who changes him?
With a sharp thump, Minho placed the tablet on his desk. "Out."
"But you said you were in need of more publicity and—"
"I said out." He didn’t even raise a finger, just nodded to the door that led out of his office.
Felix puffed his cheeks. "I’m just trying to help."
"How is this helping?"
"You said yourself you needed this charity auction to be successful."
"So?"
"Sooo, you said, and I’m quoting you word for word, Felix, my dear baby angel, the most valuable friend I’ve ever had, even better than Seungmin, who is just my best friend, while you, handsome, awesome, amazing Felix, are my bestest friend, please write something online about the event. You have a lot of followers on your Twitter account, which is actually called X now, but I’m still saying Twitter because I’m old and refuse to change."
"I certainly did not say that."
"Close enough." Felix waved him off. "Look, I even uploaded pictures."
"Yes," Minho said, teeth clenched. "Of myself. Not of the furniture we’re selling. Not the art we’re going to auction off. You uploaded vacation pictures. Of me. In swimwear."
"Vacation is a big word if we’re considering that you were working the entire time until Hyunjin accidentally drowned your phone." He smiled innocently, which Minho did not believe for one second. "Posting these pics was a genius move. It gained so much attention. You need to scroll to the comments."
Minho clicked his tongue, picked up the tablet from his desk, and scrolled to the end of the Twitter thread.
Meskie @jiji03251
I'm on my knees begging. I need him please.
Munchy @Munchymunch0805
hot as fuck omg I can be whatever he needs me to be
Sisa @spicyrachas
drooling all day… hes so delicious 🤤
Sunny @sunlitflx
his thighs are art too. are they up for auction as well???
"Felix," Minho breathed calmly. Way too calmly. "Why are we selling this as if it’s a speed dating event?"
Felix chuckled. "You asked for more attention. This is the way to do it."
"Maybe you misheard." Minho forced a smile. "I asked for more engagement for the company. Not for an engagement for myself."
"Oopsie. My bad." He smiled, not a trace of regret in his features.
"Take it down."
"Come on, Minho. It’s not that bad? It’s publicity either way."
"I’m selling furniture," Minho clipped each word short, "not myself."
Felix raised an eyebrow. "I disagree. You’re the face of Blueprint. People love the designs, sure, but they’re also obsessed with you and your handsome face. Or thighs. Depending on who you’re asking.”
“Felix.” Minho tried to not let his voice sound like a warning. "What you’re doing here is not helpful."
"It is! They’ll come for you and stay for the art. Think of it like a lure."
Minho pinched the bridge of his nose. "So the company’s success depends on me being publicly thirsted after? Fantastic."
Felix leaned forward, grinning. "Look, the comments are full of people saying they’ll show up. Even if it’s just to get a glimpse of you. And since they’re there already, they’ll bid. Even if it’s just to impress you, or talk to you. Or just getting to know you better.”
Minho’s mouth pressed into a harder line. "Felix, come on. I don’t date. I don’t flirt. I don’t even talk to people for anything besides work-related things if I don’t have to. If anything, I will demotivate people to spend money."
"Oh, I know that." Felix smiled brightly, as if he expected Minho would react exactly like this. He probably did. After more than ten years as friends, predictability was inevitable. "But it’s your lucky day because I already have a plan to save you from unwanted advances."
Minho’s eyes narrowed. "Dare I ask?"
Felix spread his arms. "A boyfriend. Fake one, obviously. People stop drooling over the untouchable bachelor, and suddenly they’re talking about your mysterious, charming partner instead. Boom—attention redirected, auction saved."
"Why would anybody care?"
Felix waved him off. "You’re going to be the perfect hot couple. Everyone will want to see a glimpse of that. And Jisung is super charming. He will lure them into buying the art. So it’s a win-win."
Minho leaned back in his chair, considering. The logic was twisted enough that he could almost see Felix's point. Almost. "And who exactly is this Jisung person?"
"My friend," Felix answered with a big smile. "He’s a high-class escort and—"
"Escort?!" Minho’s voice caught in his throat in sudden shock. "You want to set me up with an escort?"
"Yes, Minho, escort." Felix sighed. "He dates people for money. It’s a normal job, you know? A good one, even. He can choose his clients and his boundaries and still make more money than both of us. I think. Maybe not. Doesn’t matter. He’s a great person, super patient and will respect all your boundaries. Even the weird ones."
"But—"
"He’ll just pretend to be your boyfriend for the evening. And he won’t do anything that isn’t fully okay with you. You don’t have to sleep with him if you don’t want to. And knowing you, you won’t."
"But…" Minho tried again, not knowing where he was even heading with it.
Felix offered a soft smile, taking the tablet out of Minho’s hand to softly grab his fingers. "Min, seriously. I know just thinking about too much physical contact makes you uncomfortable. That’s why he’s the man for you, I promise. He’lll pretend to be the perfect, devoted boyfriend, but expect nothing in return. He doesn’t care about you being asexual."
Minho stilled, his thoughts swirling uncomfortably. The word asexual had followed him for years, ever since he'd first learned the term at twenty-two. It had been a relief then—putting a name to something he'd always known about himself but couldn't articulate. That sex wasn't just uninteresting to him—it was almost repulsive. That his lack of interest in hookups wasn't prudishness, but simply the way he was wired. "He expects me to pay," Minho said quietly in protest. "How much is this gonna cost me?"
"Pretty sure he’ll give me a discount if I ask nicely and bake him some brownies. Anyway, I want this auction to be as successful as everyone else. But unfortunately, the world cares more about pretty faces than charity. But we have the opportunity to use this to our advantage."
Minho exhaled slowly, letting his head fall back against his chair. He stared at the ceiling for a long moment, weighing his options. The auction was in three days. Three days to ensure Blueprint's biggest charity event of the year didn't flop. Three days to salvage what Felix had turned into a thirst trap carnival.
"Fine," he said finally, the word like gravel in his mouth. "If it helps the auction, I'll do it."
Felix clapped his hands together. "Yes! You won't regret it!"
"I already do," Minho muttered, but Felix was already pulling out his phone, fingers flying across the screen.
"I'm texting him now. He's going to be so excited! Well, professionally excited. That's his thing." Felix glanced up. "You'll need to meet beforehand, obviously. Work out your story, get comfortable with each other," Felix finished, already scrolling through his calendar. "How's tomorrow? Lunch? I can book that little place you like—the one with the private booths."
Minho stared at him, the reality of what he'd just agreed to sinking in. "Tomorrow? That's fast."
"The auction's in three days, Minho. Fast is what we need." Felix's phone pinged, and his face lit up. "He's free! Perfect. I'll set it up for noon."
"I have a meeting at—"
"No, you don't," Felix cut in smoothly. "I already checked with Seungmin. He said, and I quote again, Felix my handsome babe, who is also my bestest friend ever, if it helps to get Minho to stop obsessing over the auction details, I'll handle whatever meeting he thinks he has."
Minho's jaw clenched. Betrayed by his own friends. No, scratch that. Business partners. Random people he never signed up for, who decided they liked him and then set up camp in his life. He sank deeper into his chair, feeling the beginnings of a headache forming at his temples. He'd been outmaneuvered, and they both knew it. "I'm not paying for this service."
"Fine, I’ll cover it," Felix chirped, sliding his phone back into his pocket. "Consider it my contribution to charity. Though if you want to thank me later with a nice bottle of wine or naming your and Jisung’s firstborn after me—"
"Get out," Minho said, but there was no real heat in it anymore, just resignation.
Felix backed toward the door, still grinning. "Lunch tomorrow at noon. It’s a date. Wear something hot."
Evening came, but the Minho in the wardrobe mirror was still staring back at him, not knowing what to do, to think, or to feel. Same dark brown eyes, same high-bridged nose. It was him after all. The same Minho with the same cluelessness about why people only cared about his face but never his hard work. Why was it so much more important to look good than do something good? What did it even mean to wear something hot? Hot as in fired-up? Hot as in temperature? Hot as in sexually appealing? That concept sat uncomfortably in his mind. Minho’s clothes were chosen for efficiency, for precision, to make a statement about his professionalism. Apparently, Jisung was a professional, too. He would know what it meant to dress hot.
Minho frowned, fingers hovering over his wardrobe’s neatly arranged selection of shirts. He sighed. Why was he even stressing about this? A hot outfit wasn't going to change the fundamental absurdity of his situation. "This is ridiculous," he muttered, reaching for his go-to charcoal gray suit. The one that fit him perfectly because it was tailored to his exact measurements. The one that made him look competent and put-together. Exactly like the successful business owner he was. This would have to do. He hung the suit on his bedroom door, smoothing out invisible wrinkles. Felix could make all the faces he wanted tomorrow. Some things weren’t worth changing, especially not for a business transaction disguised as a date.
Time to change into his silk pajamas and settle into bed. Ten minutes later, Minho balanced the laptop on his knees and sighed. "Just a few emails," he promised himself, knowing full well it was a lie.