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It was a Saturday and Ryan could already hear the festival setting up outside.
He groaned. Last night was a blur - his roommate, Zack, had dragged him to a frat party, but he ended up just chilling with Steven and Andrew in the corner, steadily getting drunk, but having fun. He certainly wasn't having fun now though, as his head throbbed, his mouth was dry and his entire body ached.
Shut the fuck up, he willed to the marching band that was tuning up right on the grass below his apartment. They didn't.
He stretched, and blinked blearily. He was up now, he guessed, maybe he should think about attending this dumb festival the university was hosting. Carnival games, food, stalls, they had said. It had been plastered all over the walls as Ryan had tried to concentrate on editing, but there was too much thrill around the filming department that there was no way he could focus. He tried to stick to himself in general, aside from a few friends - Steven and Andrew, both culinary majors; Zack, a sports major; Helen, accountancy; and Sara, Eugene and Zach, all fellow film majors. He loved his little group of friends, and they were all quite content and insistent they didn't need anyone else. Ryan was in complete agreement.
He knew, right now, what everyone else would be doing. Nobody would be free to hang out - Steven and Andrew would be sleeping in; it's a Saturday, after all. Eugene and Zach, out for Saturday breakfast together. Helen, puppy training with her dog, Peter. Zack, of course, football training. His training bag and his jacket were missing from the stand. The thought of Zack training while nursing a hangover made Ryan giggle aloud, before immediately shutting himself up at the outburst sent a fresh pain through his throbbing head.
He didn't want to wander around pitying himself for ages, so he downed some water and Advil before getting dressed. He ran a hand through his hair to fix it and tied his laces, grabbing his phone, wallet and keys and he was away. Maybe this festival wouldn't be so awful. Maybe.
The lift wasn't working. He sighed. Typical. His head was only starting to ease off, there was a large marching band making all kinds of noise outside, and now he had to walk down sixteen flights of stairs. Fucking hell.
But he got there, and he looked around, and maybe this festival wouldn't be so bad. Maybe.
There were food stalls, perfect. He bought himself a burger almost instantly - he was starving and it was right there, and he had just taken a bite when he saw something that almost made him spit it out again.
There was a really tall, really cute guy a little down the street, a small crowd gathered around him. He was shuffling cards in his hands, and even with Ryan’s stance on magicians - i.e, they were complete and utter bullshit - he was drop-dead fucking gorgeous. Ryan guessed that someone said something funny because Mr Tall laughed, and fuck, it was the most beautiful thing Ryan had ever seen in his life. It was like the guy's eyes lit up and so did the whole street, and the warmth started in Ryan's heart and spread right to his fingers and toes, and it was a feeling he had never experienced but he never wanted it to stop ever again.
So what were his options here? He could blame this overwhelming onslaught of emotions on his dumb hangover, push them aside, and go back to his dorm. Or - and this was a big or - he could approach the guy, talk to him, and maybe get married and raise several beautiful children with him.
Okay, maybe he got carried away. But he's still staring, and the $7 burger is on the ground, and his jaw is practically hitting the ground, and he must be looking at Mr Tall like he strung the stars in the sky. Mr Tall probably could've.
Before Ryan knew it, his feet were marching on autopilot towards the most beautiful guy he had ever seen in his life. Shit, what would he say? How was he meant to act when his heart was in his mouth and his eyes were a direct gateway to every feeling he felt for this man?
Well, a voice began at the back of his mind. You could start with a simple hello.
Shut up, voice. Nobody likes a smart-arse.
Ryan reached the stand, standing at the side of the crowd, watching
as Mr Tall prepared for his next trick. He was careful in setting it up - but not careful enough. Ryan watched as the seven of spades fluttered to the ground, unnoticed by everyone else around the magician. He ducked, pretending to tie his shoe, and slipped the card into his sleeve.
“Now!” Began Mr Tall excitedly. “Someone, anyone—”
Ryan stuck his hand in the air. “Yes! Mr...?”
“Bergara.”
“Bergara! Say the name of a card, at random, for the ladies and gentlemen of the crowd.”
“Uh, seven of spades.”
“Excellent.” Mr Tall began his trick - Ryan supposed the card was meant to come out on top, or something - and when he held up a card without looking, he grinned. Ryan thought it was stunning. “Is this your card?”
He was holding up the ace of hearts. Ryan shook his head, slipping the card out from his sleeve. “No, but this is.”
The small crowd gasped. Ryan felt beyond powerful, handing the card back to Mr Tall. “Room 703.” He whispered in Mr Tall’s ear, feeling weirdly confident for someone as hungover as he. Ryan slipped back from the crowd, leaving Mr-Tall-The-Magician astounded and confused. Maybe that festival wasn’t as bad as it seemed. Maybe.
***
Ryan grinned as a knock on the door sounded, around three hours later. Zack was back from training and passed out in his bedroom. It must be Mr Tall. Ryan let out a weirdly...lovesick sigh, leaping up from his bed to open the door.
It was in fact Mr Tall. He still looked just as confused as when Ryan had left him, twirling the seven of spades.
“Hey—”
“How the hell did you do that—”
They spoke at the same time - Ryan shut up immediately and just watched Mr Tall. “No, for real. How was that even possible? You didn’t go near my hands, I didn’t let you see the cards—”
Ryan grinned slyly, cutting him off. “A true magician never reveals his secrets.”
Mr Tall glared, his hair sticking up everywhere. Ryan grinned even wider, if that was possible. “Listen, dude, I’ve been calling you Mr Tall up until now. You have a name?” Mr Tall suddenly burst into a fit of precious giggles. Ryan felt the urge to laugh too. “What?”
“You...you didn’t know my name, so you called me Mr Tall?”
“Yeah. Seems pretty logical, right?”
“It’s Shane, dude.” Shane shook his head and propped himself more securely against the doorframe.
“Ryan. See, was that so hard?” Ryan grinned. Shane’s lips lifted into a soft smirk. Goodness, this guy was really fucking kissable.
“Do you always speak out loud?” Shane laughed, his eyes flitting to Ryan’s lips. The smaller man flushed helplessly, meeting Shane’s eyes with his own.
“Shut up. Might as well start calling you Mr Talk, too. Bitch never shuts up.”
“Well, go ahead, by all means, keep me quiet.”
Ryan grinned as their eyes met once more, and Shane’s hand was on his cheek, and their lips met. And when they did, Ryan changed his mind. Shane was definitely a legitimate magician.