The following text contains mild sexual content, noncon.
Milo wakes up with a pounding headache. He opens his eyes, winces, and then puts his hand over his face and tries again. Sunlight is streaming in through wide windows that are definitely not the windows in Milo's room. He's not at home. He's--
Oh god, he really did that last night, didn't he? He agreed to move in with a stranger. He slept with that stranger. Can you call someone a stranger once they know you that intimately? Milo isn't sure, he's never gone from meeting someone to fucking them that quickly.
His ass is still a bit sore. He's dehydrated. He staggers out of bed and into the attached washroom (attached washroom!) for some water. And then, since he's already there, and he's already naked, he decides to take a shower.
The hot water lasts forever here, apparently. Milo luxuriates in it for much longer than necessary. He comes out feeling just a bit dizzy, but much more clearheaded, nonetheless. Wrapping a towel around his waist, he heads out into the living room.
The duffel of all his belongings is in the middle of the floor, a few feet away from the entrance. It's in a bit of a state, and looks extremely out of place in the extravagant condo. He rifles through it. He does find a change of clothes, easily. His toothbrush is there, his only good watch, his instant camera.
He can't find his phone.
Maybe it was in the pants he was wearing before they got intimate? He searches the room. The clothes he was wearing the previous night are now in the dryer of the in-suite laundry closet. His wallet and his- the keys to his mother's house are stacked neatly on a small table nearby. His phone isn't there.
He's getting tired of searching while holding the towel in place, so he goes back to the washroom to get changed before resuming his search. He discovers that the fridge has a small screen that tells you when it's willing to give you icecubes, that the tv is actually not connected to anything except basic cable despite being 55", and that Chen owns two of Milo's dream luxury watches. He does not find his phone.
He's not really sure what to do. He has no idea what Chen's work hours are like, or when he'll be home. He has keys to his old house, but not this one. He doesn't have any way of contacting anybody. Or anything to do here, really. Maybe he'll leave a note and just hope Chen will be home to let him in when he gets back?
He finds a notepad near the kitchen, and writes a short note for Chen. "Thanks for agreeing to let me stay. I'm going for a walk, I'll be back around sunset. -Milo."
He sticks it to the fridge, which blinks expectantly at him, ice-cubes at the ready. He puts his wallet and keys in his back pockets, and heads out.
Or he tries to.
The door is stuck. Or rather, it's locked. Milo unlocks the deadbolt, and opens the catch, but the knob still won't turn. There's a keyhole on this side of it-- the inside.
Suddenly, Milo is very nervous.
He goes through his belongings again. His phone still isn’t there. He re-packs his duffel carefully, taking inventory of everything. It's all there, except the phone, but knowing that Chen might have gone through it still makes him uncomfortable.
He goes through everything in the condo again. There's a safe in the bedroom, it turns out. Milo thinks it's a mini-fridge at first, tucked into the closet, but the hefty lock built into the front of it proves him wrong.
The floor-to-ceiling windows in the main room and bedroom don't open. The window above the double-sink in the kitchen does open, but it's a 17-story drop to the ground. Milo is pretty sure he wouldn't survive it.
Maybe this is some kind of misunderstanding. Maybe Chen had just forgotten to give Milo a key. Maybe he was out getting a duplicate cut right now, and Milo was worrying for nothing.
Maybe Milo's phone had fallen into the couch cushions, or under the coffee table. He checks both of those places, and then under and behind the bed as well. He finds a couple pieces of Chen's laundry, but not his phone.
He tries not to think about the possibility that his phone is in the safe. He sits on the floor near it anyway, just in case it is there, and it goes off. He's not sure what he would do if it did, but he's running out of other places it could be.
He supposes his phone could be outside of the condo. Maybe it had fallen out of his pocket in the elevator, and it was now being held by the front desk. He checks the front hall again to see if there's a phone or buzzer panel, but all he finds is a smoke alarm, red light shining down at him from the ceiling.
He tries to mentally retrace his steps, but, well, he's not quite sure how much wine he'd had last night, between the restaurant and the glasses he'd downed while telling Chen about his mother's over-reaction.
Thinking about that turns into thinking about Chen's hands on his body. Chen's pianist fingers tracing patterns over his sides and thighs. Those same hands displaying surprising strength as Chen pinned him to the bed. His long fingers working Milo open as his long hair, finally loose, cascaded over his shoulders. His hands holding tight to Milo's as he had fucked Milo into the mattress.
Milo looks at his own hands, as if they might impart some of Chen's secrets to him, but they are the same two hands Milo has always had. He ignores his arousal and sits on the couch, flipping through Chen's magazines as he waits for the man to return.
Sometimes, Milo hears footsteps above him, or someone vacuuming on another level of the condos. No one passes down the hallway towards his door, though.
He can't see the sunset from the windows, but he can see the way it paints the sky yellow and pink. He tries to snap some shots of it on his instant camera, but it doesn't focus on distance at the best of times, and especially not with a window in the way. He wishes he had his phone handy.
There's not much food in the fridge, and Milo isn't sure what he's allowed to eat, so he doesn't. His stomach growls in protest, but he doesn't want to sour his relationship with his new roommate on the first day he's living here. Assuming he isn't about to get serial murdered.
Milo gets through all four of the magazines on the table, including the one about the stock market. He doesn't understand it, but it's something to try to focus on. Something other than his increasing hunger, and his increasing concern.
He's looking at the bookcase when he finally hears someone approaching. The sound of someone unlocking the door. Milo walks to the front hallway, and Chen steps inside. He smiles gently, and turns around to re-lock the door before taking his shoes off.
"What a sight for sore eyes," Chen says to him, still smiling. "It's been a long time since I had someone to come home to."
"Welcome home," Milo replies, not think much of it. "Why do you lock your door like that?"
"Well I can't have you wandering off already now, can I?" Chen replies, laughing quietly as he removes his blazer. Milo feels a chill come over him.
"What do you mean by that?" he asks, placing one word carefully after another.
Chen looks at him curiously. "By what?" he asks, and then, without waiting for a reply, changes the subject. "I hope you like Chinese food," he says. "I didn't want to come home empty-handed, so I just tried to grab stuff that anyone would like."
"Chinese is fine," Milo says, still cautious. "What do you mean when you say you can't have me wandering off?"
Chen looks at him again, and the smile is gone from his eyes, though it lingers on his face. "Exactly that," he replies. "You live here now, you don't need to go anywhere else."
And that's when Milo knows, beyond the shadow of a doubt, that he's in trouble.
He darts towards the door.
Before he can even reach the handle, Chen's fist connects solidly with his solar plexus. Milo's vision greys out for a moment, and that moment is enough for Chen to lift him over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Milo squirms and flails. He elbows Chen in the head as hard as he can, and Chen barely flinches.
"Don't make this difficult," Chen tells him, and then throws him onto the bed. Milo springs back up immediately, but Chen has him pinned down before he can get to his feet. Milo brings his knee up hard into Chen's ribcage. Chen gives him a look that's equal parts disappointment and disgust before throwing one of his long legs over Milo's, pinning him down completely. Milo continues to struggle, but to no avail. He's acutely aware that they fucked in this bed less than twenty-four hours ago. He's somewhat horrified to notice that Chen is getting hard again now.
Chen forces Milo's wrists together, and holds them down with one of his own hands. Milo has never considered himself weak, but in the face of Chen's overwhelming strength, he feels emasculated. Chen pulls off his tie in one fluid motion, and Milo is terrified by how easily Chen could have his way with him again. He's embarrassed to note his own member starting to stand at attention.
Chen smiles coldly at him as he ties Milo's wrists to the headboard with his tie. He rolls his hips downward against Milo's. Milo bites his lip, and remains silent.
"If you wanted some rough play," Chen starts. "There are better ways to ask."
"I didn't fucking as-" Chen slaps him across the face. Milo stops, shocked.
"Show some respect," Chen tells him, and he's not smiling any more.
"Let me go!" Milo shouts, straining his arms against the tie holding him in place. He hears some stitches pop, but it doesn't give.
"Be quiet," Chen orders him.
"No!" Milo shouts, hoping that if he kicks up enough fuss, someone might call the cops. "You're a creep and a pervert and you can't keep me here forever!"
Chen climbs off of him, and off of the bed. "Get back here and untie me!" Milo shouts, still straining against his bonds. He can feel them start to loosen as he struggles. It's real silk, he's pretty sure, and a bit slippery.
Chen reaches up to the top shelf of the closet, and pulls down a wooden box. Milo strains to see what's in it. He can't see over the edge, but Chen removes a ball gag from it.
"Don't you fucking dare," Milo says. He can hear the fear in his own voice, and he hates it. "Don't even think about it."
"You misunderstand your role," Chen tells him, approaching the bed. Milo closes his mouth tightly. "I am the one making the decisions in this household." He closes his fingers tightly around Milo's throat.
Milo's breathing becomes strained. His vision starts swimming. Scared to pass out, he opens his mouth to take a breath. The cold plastic of the ball gag hits his tongue instantly.
Milo pants for air while Chen does the clasp behind his neck. He's terrified. He has no idea what he can do. He keeps pulling against the tie keeping his arms above him, and he can feel it slowly giving, but-
Even if he got off the bed, how much farther could he get before Chen captured him again?
In that moment of distracted hopelessness, Chen pulls out a rope, and begins to reinforce the bonds at Milo's wrists. Milo shouts at him, but he can't form words with his mouth full. Spit drips down the side of his face.
"I'm going to have dinner," Chen tells him coldly. "I hope you reflect on your behavior."