Work Text:
“Yo, did you hear about the Ice Princess?”
Suho pops open an eye right as a makeup brush is descending upon it, nearly taking it out before pausing at the last moment.
“Aish, Suho!” Youngyi exclaims from above him. Suho mutters half-distracted apologies as he tunes into the conversation taking place at the other side of the dressing room.
“Who?” A woman dressed like the girl from The Ring asks from where she's spritzing her wig with water.
“This guy who came in a group a while ago, but he reacts to nothing. Not even a twitch. It's honestly kind of scary, which is saying something considering, you know,” the guy from before says, gesturing at the ghastly paraphernalia littering every surface.
Nosy as they come, Suho butts in. “What's with the ice princess business?”
“Oh, heard one of his friends call him that and well, it fits. He just stares the scare actors dead in the eyes and moves on. Sheeeesh,” the guy whistles. “Seriously, what's up with him. . .”
Now, Suho knows not everyone reacts to the scares the same way. Some jumpier than the others, some flat out laughing maniacally in their faces and scaring them back (There was this dude in glasses and orange tracksuit once for whom the entire staff made a prayer circle to never visit them again.) Working at the haunted house was one of his many side hustles, but Suho still took some pride in getting a reaction out of the visitors, no matter how big or small.
This right there? Sounded like a challenge.
“I know what you're thinking,” Youngyi drawls from the vanity, packing up the extra makeup before the next shift of actors clock in.
Suho smiles at her cheekily. “There's just no way this won't get a reaction.” He points at his entirety—a ragged, bloody hospital gown, skin tinted a sallow grey, and face contoured into skeletal shadows with bits of fleshing rotting off. He's used to it now, but the first time Youngyi had done his makeup his stomach had nearly turned. She is extremely good at her job.
Youngyi flashes him a smile that is dripping with insincerity. “When you make a fool of yourself? Sure!”
Suho flips her the bird and is promptly ushered by a staff member to his position. He's naturally stationed at the “hospital wing” of the set, where hides behind a screen in a dingy hospital room and has to jump out on cue. His scare is the last part of the room, so it gives him some time to observe the Ice Princess and Co. from his position as they enter the room. He cannot really make out their faces in the dark, just four vague shapes that are, strangely, moving in one single file.
It quickly becomes apparent why when the speakers suddenly spit out moaning and whining noises. Three out of those four figures jump and whimper, clutching the person at the very front for dear life.
This must be the infamous Ice Princess.
Ice Princess appears unperturbed by both the noises and the rough manhandling of his smaller frame by his friends. It's frankly quite a funny visual, with Ice Princess as their knight in shining armour which was really just a hoodie and jeans.
Suho doesn't have a plan beyond making the maximum impact possible. And it's perhaps why the anticipation and excitement makes him fumble.
He prepares to jump out the moment he gets his cue, but he somehow trips over the tires of the movable screen he's hiding behind—never in his time working there has he ever had that problem, mind you—and as he's launched into air his only thought is fuck Youngyi and her bad vibes portending this.
To a chorus of shocked screams, Suho falls right into the arms of Ice Princess.
His hands instinctively fly to his shoulders as Ice Princess grabs him by the waist, preventing him from smashing his brains out on the hard, tiled floor. But as his face comes into view under the shitty fluorescent lights, Suho wonders if he had in fact broken his skull open and swiftly ascended to heaven.
Ice Princess is outrageously gorgeous.
Glittering, lotus-shaped eyes that bore into his soul. Pillowy, blush pink lips set in a pout. Full, doughy cheeks begging to be bitten. . . Suho cannot stop staring. Even though his knees are bent at an awkward, painful angle as he lays suspended in Ice Princess’ arms—his limbs much longer and lankier in comparison.
He should let go. Hell, Ice Princess should definitely be letting go by this point, but they continue to stare at each other for an uncomfortable amount of time. There's none of that visceral disgust or shock on his face that Suho usually encounters, but it's not dead either. Ice Princess seems stumped and confused, and the barely-there wrinkle between his eyebrows captivates Suho as much as the rest of his face does.
“Um,” a tentative voice pipes out from behind Ice Princess. “Sieun-ah. . . Are you okay?”
Ice Princess—Sieun—promptly drops him like hot potato.
Suho falls to the floor in a heap.
One of the other guys shoulders past Sieun, has one look at Suho’s face, and starts squealing like a pig while pointing at him. “THIS UGLY ZOMBIE PROBABLY POSSESSED OUR SIEUNIE.”
“Ugly?” Suho mutters from the floor.
“Possessed?” says Sieun, shooting this other guy a dry look.
“Shut the fuck up, Baku.” The third guy snaps, though his face is drained of colour as well. “But we should move on.”
They start shepherding Sieun out of the room, whose face is now back to neutral, wiped clean. He looks over his shoulder at Suho. “Sorry,” he mutters, face utterly devoid of emotion yet Suho can tell he's being sincere about it.
Suho still doesn't get up.
Ten minutes later Youngyi finds him in the same position, sprawled and shell-shocked.
Youngyi clicks her tongue. “Do I even wanna know?”
“I think . . . I just met the love of my life,” Suho says to Youngyi's upside down face.
She cringes in mild disgust. “Not with that face.”
Suho's brain jolts back online. While he was busy burning Sieun's angelic features behind his retinas, he completely forgot about his own predicament. In hindsight, “ugly” was a mercy.
Suho takes the quickest shower of his life.
With any luck, Suho might still catch Sieun and his friends at the gift shop the haunted house tour spits its visitors out into at the end.
His prayers are answered when he spots the group making their purchases at the counter, Sieun lingering back at a slight distance, disinterested.
Sieun flinches when Suho first grabs his wrist, staring at him with murder in his (ever so fucking lovely, goddammit) eyes before they miraculously light up with recognition.
He lets Suho tug him away, towards a quieter corner of the shop.
The sky is blue, water is wet, and Suho remains without a plan. So he just blurts out the first thing on his mind. “I surprised you back there, didn't I? When nobody else managed to?”
Sieun blinks. “You certainly had a . . . way of doing it.”
Suho's cheeks ache with the force of the grin that takes over his face.
“But,” Sieun continues, and Suho’s head shoots up from where he had ducked it in giddiness. “I will admit, it was the only entertaining part of my night.”
Like a sliver of sunlight breaking out from between clouds, Sieun's lips quirk ever so slightly, eyes turning up at the end like pretty tildes.
Faced with all that, Suho feels so incredibly faint that he wonders if Sieun will catch him again.