Chapter Text
Adrien was sick. It didn’t happen often, but after a week of bouncing between clubs during the lull between Christmas and New Year’s, his luck had finally run out. He’d lost his car keys the night before and had to wait for a cab out in the freezing cold. Adrien wasn’t the type to bundle up, especially since he usually drove everywhere, and after hours in a stifling club and probably one too many drinks, the crisp night air had felt like a blessing. It turns out that it was more of a curse.
Now, wrapped in a blanket and shivering, Adrien felt like shit. His body had betrayed him, succumbing to the flu, but that wasn’t even the worst part. His head was a mess, tangled up in thoughts of Kiyan—a mystery of a man who occupied far too much space in Adrien’s mind. Back at Christmas, Adrien had texted him with an invitation to spend New Year’s together. Naturally, there was no reply. And now, his phone screen flashed December 31st as if mocking him.
Not that Adrien was in any condition to celebrate. The most he could manage was cocooning himself in blankets and sipping endless mugs of tea. Still, he’d hoped that after Kiyan had finally opened up a little over the holidays, maybe things would start moving in the right direction. Maybe this bizarre situationship could morph into something less undefined. But that hope had fizzled out along with his energy.
With a heavy sigh, Adrien dragged his phone out from under the pillow for the hundredth time, staring blankly at the message screen. Their conversation thread was painfully one-sided. The last text read: “At least let me know you’re alive. Everything okay?”
It had gone unanswered. Just like the five messages before it.
The worst part was that Adrien’s worry wasn’t completely irrational. When he’d last seen Kiyan, the guy had looked like he’d been in a fight. Judging by the scars Kiyan already carried, it probably wasn’t unusual for him, but Adrien couldn’t shake the image. Was Kiyan ignoring him because he didn’t feel like replying? Or was he lying in some alley, beaten and broken? The thought twisted Adrien’s stomach until he felt even sicker.
That nagging dread had driven him out night after night, hitting every bar and club in hopes of running into Kiyan the same way he had before. Instead, all he’d found was a nasty cold that had him pinned to bed on New Year’s Eve.
Adrien knew where Kiyan lived—at least, where he’d spent Christmas Eve. But he had every reason to believe the place was just a squat and that Kiyan might not even be there anymore. And showing up unannounced at his door? That crossed the line into desperate territory, even if Adrien had considered it more times than he cared to admit.
Please...
He started typing another message but stopped, thumb hovering over the keyboard. Was he really about to humiliate himself again? Probably. It wouldn’t be the first time Kiyan had made him feel like a lovesick idiot, and Adrien was sure Kiyan knew exactly how desperate he was. The realization burned, and frustration flared hot enough to make his hands shake. Without thinking, Adrien hurled the phone across his massive, cold, and depressingly empty bed. He hadn’t expected to put so much force into it—not with how wrecked his body felt—but the phone cleared the mattress and hit the wall with a crack. The sharp sound of shattering glass made Adrien wince. A dull thud followed as the phone bounced off the wall and landed on the floor. Its screen went black. Dead.
Adrien groaned, the sound pathetic even to his own ears. He didn’t even have the energy to check how badly it was broken. Instead, he yanked the blanket over his head, curling into himself as chills rippled down his spine. He needed to sleep, to let his body and mind rest, but his thoughts wouldn’t shut up. They spun in endless circles, stirring up images of Kiyan and worst-case scenarios, keeping him teetering on the edge of sleep but never letting him fall, leaving him trapped in restless, fevered wakefulness.