Work Text:
He had the politest touch, but something about it was electric. Something about him was so captivating, so magnetic, that he never wanted to let go of his hand. But the song ended, and the beautiful stranger stepped away with a curt nod.
And then he was gone.
Minhyuk released the breath he didn’t realize he was holding. Had there always been this many people in the room? Had it always been this hot and hard to breathe? He needed a drink. Minhyuk made his way to the kitchen, helping himself to one of the empty (and presumably clean) red cups on the counter. He poured himself a beer as he rests his head against the refrigerator, recounting how he had gotten to this tragic point.
When Hyungwon had suggested going to a masquerade ball party he had snorted. What is this, 16 th century Italy ? Still, he had let Hyungwon drag him there. Somehow, he had even gotten him a mask (It was turquoise and black with more sequins than a 90s girl group wardrobe), and though he insisted he wasn’t going to wear it, here he was, masked and everything, and he had fallen in love.
With a masked stranger.
He had spent most of the first half of the party standing in the corner, nursing a beer and silently judging everyone around him who had taken the whole masquerade ball theme a little too seriously. (It’s not that he doesn’t appreciate the ball gowns and tuxedos, but it was all a little too much for his taste.)
Really though, because nothing screams fancy masquerade ball like a frat house with a mountain of kegs in the kitchen. Minhyuk and Hyungwon weren’t even in the frat (but Hyungwon had gotten them in through his boyfriend Hoseok), so Minhyuk knew no one (with or without the masks) and he felt exceedingly awkward and exceedingly tipsy (maybe. Slightly.) until an extended hand broke him away from the intimate moment he was sharing with his beer.
“Wanna dance?” The voice that came with the extended hand said. The voice was low and pleasant-sounding, with a hint of amusement (as if Minhyuk being lonely was amusing to him). Slightly pissed off, Minhyuk looked up.
The amused man was tall, broad-shouldered and tanned. Though most of his face was hidden behind a blue Venetian mask with intricate curved patterns of white and gold, he could make out a pair of amused, hazel eyes, beneath (undoubtedly, also amused) short choppy dark brown hair. His lips were curved in an amused, but sweet smile (one that said: I will laugh at you, but I will also love you).
A moment of awkward silence followed, in which the amused man, unsure of what to do, kept his hand raised like the most ridiculously handsome stop sign, until Minhyuk grabbed onto it.
“Sure, why not.” Minhyuk replied, depositing his half-empty cup on a table somewhere. The amused man led him to the dance floor. “Uh, so what do I call you?”
The amused man grinned. “You can call me Prince Charming.”
Jesus. Could this get any more Cinderella?
“I’m leaving here with both shoes, just so you know.”
“They’re not my size, anyways.” Prince Charming replied, as he started to sway to the rhythm of the music. He put one hand on Minhyuk’s hips, holding the other one up high like they’re dancing the goddamn waltz instead of some cheesy pop song.
Prince Charming didn’t speak much, but the silent grace in his movements and the confidence in his dancing abilities were more than a little attractive.
The first song ended, but Prince Charming hadn’t let go of his hand yet, so Minhyuk assumed dance time wasn’t over yet. Five songs in, and Minhyuk was sure.
He was in love.
Just like that, Prince Charming waltzed into his heart.
They didn’t just dance. Prince Charming told Minhyuk he liked to dance. (This explained the dancing.) He didn’t mention the frat, so Minhyuk assumed he had also crashed the party. He told him things, this and that, without ever really telling anything about himself. His insistence to stay anonymous was both intriguing and also completely, totally infuriating.
Eventually, the fifth song ended, and he let go of his hand. Keeping up with his mysterious Prince Charming act, he stepped away and disappeared into the crowd with a curt nod before Minhyuk could even give him his heart (or his phone number).
--
Minhyuk leaned against the cold refrigerator door, nursing his beer while simultaneously wallowing in despair. He knew he had to see him again.
But he knew nothing about him. No name, no age, no major, no year, nothing.
Just then, he felt a hand on his shoulder. He half expected it to be Prince Charming, back to win his heart (and hopefully his phone number) but it was only Hyungwon. Talk about disappointing .
“I thought you were supposed to be sociable.” His tall best friend/roommate/Satan said.
“I thought you were supposed to be off somewhere sucking Hoseok’s dick.” Minhyuk retorted.
Hyungwon grinned. “Who said I haven’t already.” He made some obscene gestures.
Minhyuk made a face. “Ew. Whatever.”
Hyungwon tried to pry Minhyuk away from his spot. Clearly, he had gotten what he had come for. And he wasn’t about to dance with drunk strangers. “Let’s just go home. I’m bored and I want pizza.”
“But…”
“But-what? Are you too busy guarding the refrigerator? Don’t worry, no one's gonna want to steal this lukewarm horsepiss that passes for beer around here.”
“No, but…”
“No buts. Let’s go.” Hyungwon, having had enough of Minhyuk’s bullshit, dragged him off by the arm. Minhyuk struggled, but once the human Ent was in motion there was no stopping him (especially not with the premise of pizza waiting at their dorm).
Minhyuk took one last desperate look into the crowd, hoping to spot Prince Charming, but this wasn’t actually Cinderella, and thus there were no dramatic lingering last goodbyes. Maybe he should’ve left his shoe after all.
--
Five weeks passed, and his hopes of ever finding Prince Charming dwindled. He exhausted every resource that his meager university student budget allowed (which was, admittedly, not that much), asked every frat, foe and friend, but no one knew a thing about Prince Charming. He even attended another frat party, but he gained nothing more than a mild hangover and a napkin with a phone number of what appeared to be either a strip club or a chicken restaurant (he couldn’t quite make out the last digit).
“Why so down? Is this whole kicked-puppy aesthetic a new tactic to attract guys? Because I gotta say, it’s not working for me.” Hyungwon said, flopping down next to Minhyuk on his bed.
“Ugh. No.” Minhyuk let himself fall back, burying his face in a pillow.
“What is it then? Bad grades? Mid-life crisis? Menopause? Did your favorite series get cancelled? Or are you just hangry?”
“I’m not ha-- …never mind. No. It’s not that.”
“Then what?”
“It’s none of your business, that’s what!” Minhyuk threw his pillow at Hyungwon’s face.
For a moment, Hyungwon was taken aback by Minhyuk’s outburst. “Since when do you keep secrets from me, Lee Minhyuk? I’ve literally known you since first grade. I know all of your embarrassing secrets.”
“You know nothing J—“
“Don’t you dare you know nothing Jon Snow me. Out with it.”
“F-Fine. Remember that masquerade party we went to a couple of weeks ago?”
“Yeah what about it?”
“I met a guy.”
“Yeah well you meet a lot of guys at parties, that’s kinda the whole idea of parties. What’s the deal with this one?”
“I think I love him.”
“….?”
“But I don’t know anything about him. And I tried to find him again, but he’s just…. Gone.”
“….You know nothing…. and yet you love him.”
“Yes.”
“But you don’t know his name.”
“No.”
“Or his age.”
“Nope.”
“Major?”
“Negative.”
“Year?”
“No.”
“Jesus, Minhyuk.”
“I know. It’s bad. But I just know. ”
“So what do you know about him? What does he look like.”
Minhyuk described Prince Charming as best as he could. When he was done, Hyungwon nodded pensively. “I’ll see what I can do.”
--
Two days later, Hyungwon threw a stack of papers on Minhyuk’s desk. Minhyuk gave him a questioning look.
“His name is Son Hyunwoo. He is 22 years old. He’s a third year Sports major. His zodiac sign is Gemini. His favorite food is anything-with-meat. His dorm room number is 534. He has blood type O. And also…. He’s bi, and single.”
“……How?”
“I have my ways.”
Minhyuk got up and hugged him. “Thank you.”
“You owe me a favor.”
“Yeah yeah okay.”
“Now go get your man.”
Minhyuk hurriedly put on a sweater and rushed out of the door.
--
Three months after their first date, Minhyuk tells Hyunwoo he loves him. Only much later does he tell him he knew he loved him ever since that party.
“…You knew you loved me without even knowing who I was?” Hyunwoo asks in disbelief.
“My instincts are never wrong.”
“That’s a very cocky thing to say.”
“But I have you now, don’t I?” Minhyuk says with a grin.
“Can’t argue with that.”
Hyunwoo pulls Minhyuk on his lap, kissing him softly, holding him with those big, strong hands Minhyuk was so reluctant to let go of.
(But now he had him. And he would never let go again.)