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Beomgyu has no recollection whatsoever of how he got into this situation, tied and blindfolded, thrown into a truck.
All he remembered was walking out from his night shift at the convenience store, and the next second he was here.
“Please, please, I’m scared. Please I’m scared of the dark, don’t do it please.” Beomgyu whimpers, he bangs his head against the side of the truck, his blindfold slides a bit—so he hits his head again, overcome with the need to see any type of light.
“Stop, no, no, no, don’t do that, baby. Shh it’s okay, I’ll take it off.” The guy’s voice is so sweet, completely different from how his father’s voice ever was. It eases his anxiety the tiniest bit.
Beomgyu works on his breathing instead, deciding to trust the words of his abductor.
“I’m not in the house. I'm not in the house. I’m not in the house...” He repeats to himself, just the quietest whisper over and over again, feels the car slow down and it helps ease his anxiety some more.
“Shh, that’s right baby. You’re safe now, you’re mine.” The voice calls again, soothing him, and for some reason it works.
“Please, take off my blindfold. Please, please I’ll do anything.” Beomgyu feels a hand touching the side of his head, flinching before he settles against it.
“I’m sorry, baby, didn’t know you’re afraid of the dark. It’ll never happen again,” There’s more shushing as the blindfold is removed from his eyes carefully, can feel the guy touching his head where he banged against the truck checking for injuries.
Beomgyu watched so many videos about kidnappings, stalking, abductions—so when he opens his eyes and sees his kidnappers face there’s two things on his mind: the man looks like an angel, but he has no intention of ever letting Beomgyu leave.
A kidnapper that calls him baby and shows him his face means that this person thinks of Beomgyu as his, that he doesn’t fear being identified, that this man is confident Beomgyu will never escape him.
He’s terrified, and yet he leans into his tender touch—he’s never been touched like this—and his kidnapper seems happy, seizing his reaction before he continues petting his head.
“You’re not going to scream, right? I don’t want to have to gag you.” Beomgyu shakes his head no. Gets a kiss on his forehead that makes him feel all fuzzy inside.
This is my first forehead kiss.
Beomgyu knows he should pay more attention to his environment, to everything happening outside, roads, signs—any indication of where he could ever be—but he’s dizzy. So he lays down and looks at his kidnapper’s face.
“I’m Beomgyu,” he says quietly after a few seconds where the guy has started driving again, if he’s more humanized in his kidnapper’s eyes he’s more likely to live.
“I know, baby. My name is Yeonjun.” It’s a pretty name.
“Yeonjun.” He echoes.
“We met once, or well… three times, at school. But I only spoke to you once before you had to stop going.” Beomgyu remains quiet, absorbing all the information.
“I’m sorry, I barely remember anything from my two semesters there. But I’m glad we’ve talked before… hyung.” Yeonjun smiles at him in the rear view mirror.
“So you remember me a little?” He’d guessed.
“Your face, but your hair…” He’s vague as can be.
“Yeah, it was different. I change it very often.” It’s black right now, he couldn’t have known that wasn’t his natural hair.
Beomgyu lays down and looks at Yeonjun the rest of their trip, he has earrings, he’s pretty. It concerns him a little to think what a pretty boy around his age could want with him.
“Hyung… are you going to kill me?” There’s a certain sense of calm over him as he asks such an important question. But he’s powerless over this, he’s been powerless his whole life, really.
Yeonjun’s frown does concern him. It could mean bad things to him.
“No… baby, I’m rescuing you, you’re mine now.” Yeonjun goes back to looking at the road.
“Oh.”
—
The first thing Yeonjun does as he opens the back of his van is to remove the ties around Beomgyu’s wrists, brings both of his hands to his lips, kissing them and rubbing at the sore spots.
“Sorry, I never tied anyone up before. Can you walk, baby?” Yeonjun undoes the ties around his ankles then, but when Beomgyu lifts one of his legs it feels too heavy. More so like he was dragging his own limbs.
“I don’t think so. Sorry, hyung,” Beomgyu hugs his legs to his chest, feeling guilty about it all, despite how none of it is his fault.
“Don’t worry, hyung’s got you.” His heart does a weird little flutter when Yeonjun picks him up, effortlessly. His hands go around his neck automatically, and he pretends he’s more dizzy than he truly feels, laying his head against Yeonjun’s chest—hearing his steady heartbeat, it makes him calm.
Yeonjun doesn’t want to kill him.
He’s going to be fine.
—
“Do you not fear I will try to escape?” Beomgyu is placed down gently as they walk inside the house, it’s not creepy, it’s not decaying like his own was. It’s a house—a home.
Yeonjun has brought him to his place.
“Where would you go, baby? It’s freezing outside, you could die.” Yeonjun hands him a sweater as he says that. “Are you hungry?”
Beomgyu doesn’t remember the last time he ate, at least the last time he ate without feeling nauseous afterwards—eating without feeling like someone’s trying to punish him.
“I am hungry, yes… but it’s not too bad.” He lowers his voice near the end, not sure if he has to do chores here to earn his food as well.
“I’ll cook for you, come keep me company.” Yeonjun holds his hand, dragging him softly, touching loose enough for Beomgyu to pull away—he doesn’t feel he’s got much of a reason to deny Yeonjun—his hand is warm, soft. It’s different. It’s safe, so he discreetly intertwines their fingers. He’d always wanted to do that with someone like in those dramas he would watch at work.
Holding hands was nice.
Beomgyu had never eaten kimchi rice that tasted so good, maybe it’s the company with the way Yeonjun wipes his face twice when he gets some food in his face. Being praised for being obedient and eating with his Yeonjun-hyung.
“Tell me how we met, you said we met three times.” Beomgyu feels sleepy after eating, he doesn’t think his food was laced—wouldn’t really matter if it were either, but he doesn’t think that’s true—given that Yeonjun seems to be as tired as he is.
Yeonjun hums quietly, grabs his hand as they walk to another area of the house. Beomgyu intertwines their fingers again, it feels comfortable and warm.
“This is your room, we don’t have to sleep together if you don’t want to.” The room feels cold, there’s blankets in the bed and it looks cozy enough but he thinks it would be warmer faster if he’s sharing with Yeonjun.
“Cuddle with me for a while?” He’s sure his cheeks must be bright red, and Yeonjun’s soft laughter didn’t help either.
It was all so nice.
They lay facing each other, Beomgyu intertwines their legs—he’s just cold, that's all. Yeonjun threading his fingers through his hair makes him ever more appealing to fall asleep.
“Hyung, how did we meet?” He asks again before grabs Yeonjun’s hand, moves it so he can use it as a pillow, moving closer, hearing Yeonjun gasping. Cute.
“I saw you, it was… seven months, thirteen days, and about eleven hours ago. You were running to class, dropped one of your books, you were so beautiful that I couldn’t move for a few seconds, and by the time I reacted, trying to go to you and help you pick up your things you’d left already.”
“I wish you would’ve talked to me… what color was your hair back then?” Beomgyu runs his hands through Yeonjun’s hair.
“It was yellow, but not a normal blonde, it was like highlighter yellow. Shorter too.” It’s hard to picture it, with how Yeonjun’s mullet and his bangs fall over his eyes, making him look softer, younger.
“What about the other two times?” Deep down, he recognizes that this isn’t normal, but nothing in his life ever had been.
So maybe, for him it was normal to be comfortable around a guy he had just met. To be touching each other like this, with his hands going to play with Yeonjun’s hair on his nape.
“The second one, I saw you from afar, and I started following you. I wanted… I needed to know where to find you if you ran off again.” Followed him. The words make something weird flutter in his stomach, something akin to anxiety but not entirely bad.
“I followed you from our campus, to the store where you worked. I bought something just to make sure it wouldn’t look suspicious. My hair was pink back then, with rainbow streaks, longer.”
Beomgyu has a faint memory of it, of a pretty boy with pink hair who came often by the store, who came during his night shifts. But he barely remembered anything back then, it wasn’t a great time for him—juggling school and the graveyard shifts, all of it to avoid going to the house. “Is that when you actually spoke to me?”
“Yeah. You were so quiet, you would barely say hello back.” He feels sorry for being so inattentive, and wonders what could’ve happened if he talked to Yeonjun back then.
“I followed you back then, from your work to the house. You would leave very late sometimes, or look way too tired… I just needed to make sure you made it home safe. You saw me once, walking up the stairs to your building, didn’t even say hi.” Beomgyu curls closer to Yeonjun, doesn’t even realize; but any mention about his house makes him feel weak. Scared.
He probably was too out of it to even remember… probably looked past him.
“You looked so sad, baby, I couldn’t… I couldn’t leave after that. Didn’t see you smile or laugh anymore.”
Yeonjun wraps his arms around him, pulls him closer. Beomgyu’s body tensed as a reflex but nothing bad happens afterward so he allows himself to relax in his touch. He can’t remember the last time he was held like this.
“What about the third time, Yeonjun-hyung?” Beomgyu cuddles closer, until he’s but a little puzzle piece that fits perfectly against him. Yeonjun starts tracing patterns on his back.
“Two weeks ago. You didn’t show up at work… you stopped going to classes months ago too.” Beomgyu lets himself be held, can’t stop the tears from falling down his face as he thinks about it.
The pain, the fear, he really thought his father had broken him for good.
“How did you see me?” He was barely allowed to leave home, and couldn't even remember the last time he’d been allowed outside before Yeonjun took him.
“I saw you at night, I was ready to walk up to you—I was so worried, baby. I saw the bruises on your face, but I saw that man.” Yeonjun’s grip tightens around him, it doesn’t hurt, but he whimpers again. “Saw him dragging you back inside, seeing you kicking and thrashing. I knew I had to take you with me.”
I’m glad you took me. He doesn’t want to say it, but he feels it.
He feels safe to cry, to be held.
And Yeonjun just lets him and holds him through it.
“It’s okay, baby. Let it all out, it’s okay now,”
I wish you would have taken me sooner.
——
He’s not sure how long it’s been. Could be ten minutes, ten hours, he could’ve slept through a day or two.
“Hyung?” He asks quietly, the room isn’t dark; the blinds are open letting in the night light. And the door is ajar, with a light seeping in from the outside.
“Yeah, I’m here.” Yeonjun's voice soothes him, makes Beomgyu stop holding his breath.
“Don’t leave, please stay.” He reaches out his hand to bring Yeonjun closer, feels warm when Yeonjun takes his hand and kisses the back of it. Crawling in bed again from where he’d been standing by the door.
“Okay, are you still tired, do you want water?” Beomgyu nods twice. “I’ll be right back then.”
“Can we go to your room instead?” Yeonjun smiles at him and nods, offering his hand. Beomgyu is getting used to it quickly, starting to like it.
Yeonjun’s room smells like him, making it hard to resist the urge of rubbing his face into the pillows or bringing his sheets to his nose, catching a good sniff of just Yeonjun all around him.
It’s a smell he definitely likes, sweet and mild on his senses.
He will make a home here. Beomgyu is quick to cuddle up to Yeonjun again once he gets in bed again, holding the cup of water directly to his lips, so gentle.
The water tastes odd, but he drinks all of it like a good boy. “What was in the water?”
Yeonjun wipes the corner of his mouth, cleaning a runaway droplet of water and slowly pushing his thumb into Beomgyu’s mouth; he takes it without a complaint, gives it a few kitten licks.
“Something to help you sleep again.” Beomgyu pushes the digit out of his mouth, making a little hmph sound at the end.
Don’t do anything weird to me. He thinks about saying that, but Yeonjun was honest to him… he trusts him, at least he trusts Yeonjun more than him.
“Hyung, be here when I wake up, please.” Beomgyu curls into Yeonjun’s touch, hides his face in his neck again allowing himself to take a deep breath.
“I promise I will be here, cub.” It feels so good to have someone playing with his hair, lulling him to sleep.
If this a trap, then he’s fallen right into it, doesn’t think about escaping anymore, only focusing on how warm it feels to feel in here with someone compared to how cold his old room used to feel, he doesn’t remember Yeonjun at all, but just from the few hours they have spent together he trusts him more than anyone.
Beomgyu… likes it here, likes Yeonjun, likes his dyed hair.
“Hyung?” He asks quietly, moving his head back just a bit, looking Yeonjun in the eye. He’s so pretty even this close.
“What is it, baby?” Yeonjun starts touching his face right away, thumb softly tracing a now faded scar on his chin.
“Hyung… have you ever heard of Stockholm syndrome?” Beomgyu mutters quietly, using both hands to hold Yeonjun’s face, moving closer until their lips press together. Just a small peck, watching as his hyung’s eyes become big with surprise, blushing but staying still.
It gives Beomgyu the confidence he needed to do it again, parting his own lips to kiss him again.
“You don’t have to do this… you don’t have to do anything for me,” Yeonjun whispers back to him, kissing his cheek.
“I want it, hyung. Want a kiss from someone who loves me.” He starts tearing up at his own words, letting his heart take him to a new place, pulls Yeonjun closer again just to have the older one touch his face again, shushing him quietly and wiping his face with his fingers.
“I’ll kiss you in the morning, now sleep, baby.” Yeonjun plants one more kiss on the corner of his mouth, kisses his nose, then his eyelids, they feel almost too heavy when he opens them next… it must be the drugs making him sleepy again. “Welcome home, my love.”