Chapter Text
The ground beneath him is cold— marble, is what he notices first. From his place on what seems to be the floor of a room, Mydei attempts to welcome the waking world as it embraces him back. His last recollection was entering his manager’s van after a quick recording session, vaguely recalling the creeping sensation of fatigue weighing down his shoulders. Preparations for the upcoming concert hadn’t been easy, and he was nearly starting to regret the workload he had given himself if it were not for it being a part of his profession and livelihood.
He remembers reclining in his seat after the shut of his manager’s car door, remembers the cold leather of the car’s back seat cushioning his neck and his eyes falling shut in their exhaustion. Everything after is no more than a foggy memory, and he grimaces as his attempts to remember more sends a sharp sting through his head.
Sure, no matter, since the events leading up to this moment may just be the last of his worries as he notices the ropes and impairment of his vision next.
He fights to remain lucid as he begins struggling against his bindings, rope digging into skin as he thrashes, fighting to free himself. The steadily rising piercing needles of pain against the back of his skull aids to make his attempt more difficult than it already was. Darkness fills his vision still despite his efforts to open his eyes. He realizes then that he was blindfolded, the cloth hugging around his head— not too tight, as if it was only to stave his vision, he distantly notes.
Strange.
Mydei was a man who knew better than to worsen his situation with useless struggle. With a huff, he ceases his movements, opting to not worsen the steadily growing pains at the back of his head and the ropes clawing harder at his body. As quick on his feet as he was, Mydeimos more or less draws the conclusion that he had been abducted.
With his sight robbed, hands bound, and all the false time in the world, he opts to make use of his other senses. The smell of the room is nearly sterile through his nose, and goosebumps make their way across his flesh as he remains splayed across the marble on his side. Even if tied up and blindfolded, it seems his captors made it a point not to gag him. He’d find it almost comical if it weren’t for his frayed nerves and the seriousness of his situation.
Despite his best attempts to remain calm, it barely does anything to quell the storm of thoughts swirling in his mind about his predicament.
Where am I?
How was this even manageable?
Who?
The creaking of a door interrupts his pondering.
Slightly dazed, Mydei strains to hear feather light steps hit the floor. They’re unhurried, and he assumes to himself that this may be one of his captors. Footsteps draw closer and closer— nearly matching the rhythm of his own rapidly growing heartbeat. Movement pauses, and the rustling of clothing signifies that whoever this is must be close enough to his vicinity.
Mydei thinks he may be sweating, he doesn’t really know. The room remains dead silent otherwise, save for his own slightly trembling breaths. Suddenly, abnormally cold hands caress his cheek, and he recoils on instinct to the shock in temperature, skitting away like a scared cat with whatever little movement he could afford.
He’s always been so unbearably warm.
Above him, he hears a quiet puff of breath.
Did this person just laugh at him?
There was no second attempt in touching him again, and Mydei feels grateful in his momentary reprieve before a firm grip on each side of his arms shocks him out of his short-lived peace. Once again, he is forced to endure the torturous cold of those hands, drawing his attention to a fact somehow lost on him earlier that he was only in his dress shirt, his jacket long gone.
The arms lift him into a half-sitting position, but the restraints behind him make it a challenge for him to keep himself up. Seemingly having noticed, those hands remain rested on either side, supporting his weight. Mydei was by no means a man of small stature, so the stranger’s almost ease in pulling him up and holding him still sends a questionable flip through his stomach. He chooses to ignore it for his own sanity.
With the stranger so close, he becomes aware of the stranger’s scent crowding his nose. The overwhelming smell of fresh laundry detergent, citrus in nature, coupled with a subtle mix of rubbing alcohol hits his senses. On any other day, Mydei may have even found it pleasant. But this was not any other day, and this was not any other person. He suddenly becomes even more acutely aware of his vulnerable position and powerlessness, the flames of anxiety and panic burning through his veins at the realization.
The blindfold is leisurely lifted from his eyes before he could give it any more thought. He fights to open them then, and he nearly stops breathing when the sight in front of him comes into view.
Meeting his vision was a gaze he almost mistaken as the sky itself.
Blue. Utterly encapsulating, haunting vortexes of blue greets honey-colored sunset. They’re curved up in the mirth of what he could only assume as a smile, nearly tearing through him in their focus. If this were any other situation, Mydei would have felt more compelled in resigning himself to the role of an admirer to such a striking pair of eyes. But he shakes away those thoughts as quickly as they come, blurry vision struggling against the minimal lighting that has entered the room— no doubt by the slight crack of what must be the door.
Silvery white strands frame a ghostly handsome face is what he makes out next, and he chastises himself at his own disturbed, minimal interest in the stranger’s appearance.
A seeming eternity crosses between him and the stranger before they speak.
“There you are,” the stranger says with an almost easy smile, and Mydei finds his breath hitching against his own better judgment. The stranger’s voice, his voice, was awfully melodic. The disturbing nature of his state and the direct contrast of the stranger’s sing-song attitude only exacerbates Mydei’s steadily growing panic. Before he can open his mouth to hurl questions, the stranger continues speaking.
“Once again, you didn’t accept any of my gifts.” Pulling away to tilt his head to the side, the stranger boasts a faux pout, nearly puppy-like in nature. Mydei only grows more confused.
“I was really sad, you know..” his words trailed off into the air between them, but whether or not that so-called sadness accompanied those words was beyond Mydei.
Within seconds, the stranger had moved his face even closer to Mydei’s, crowding against his body and settling between his legs. The sudden invasion of his space paired with the throbbing of his head leaves his senses seizing. With nowhere to run and still bound, Mydei realizes that he was at the complete mercy of this man.
A hand, gentle yet firm in all their callouses, wraps around to the back of his nape, carding through the hairs that nestled there. Mydei makes a small sound as the searing freeze hits him again.
This guy is a fucking ice block.
The stranger tilts to move even closer, pulling Mydei along with him, lips ghosting the shell of his ear and sending shivers down his spine.
“But no matter,” the man whispers, those fingers, seemingly kissed by the cold of winter’s snow trails to dance across Mydei’s skin— continues to murmur into his ear, breath ghosting the shell. The cloyingly sweet nature of his tone only serves to make Mydei dizzier , and he feels the oncoming nausea of a twisted, knotted anxiety fueled by panic filling him.
How could the stranger be so casual about this? As if Mydei was not brought here against his will and captured. As if they were no more than two friends getting up to trouble and sharing sweet secrets in the comfort of night.
“Right now, we have all the time in the world.”
And it sounded like a promise rather than anything else, and Mydei’s panic has truly taken him now. Before he could react in his anxiety, a kiss lands on his cheek to halt his thoughts entirely.