Matthew sniffled and shifted against the hot, sticky leather upholstery. His hands were tied behind his back, his shirt missing as were his shoes and his bare back stuck to the leather. His glasses had slid down to the end of his nose. He was low enough in the seat that you wouldn't really notice him if you were to glance into the back seat of the car. He let out a whimper, muffled against the duct tape covering his mouth. A hand came back from the front seat, patted him on the stomach as if trying to calm him before returning from where it came from. He whimpered again, but it only resulted in the radio being turned up louder as to drown him out.
What had he done wrong?
He didn't remember much on actually being grabbed out on the street, shoved into a car and being tied up. He only remembered locking up his work place—A small corner store—and starting the walk to his apartment, which was only about two blocks away. Someone had grabbed him from behind and he woke up where he was now. In the back seat of an older model car travelling on some unpaved back road if the bumps and potholes were an indicator. They had been driving for quiet some time as well, or at least he thought they had been He wanted to throw up, but with the duct tape on his mouth he didn't dare allow it.
After what seemed like forever, the car came to a stop. Matthew lifted his head up and tried to peer out the window, but all he could see was blackness. The drivers door opened and the car shifted as the man driving exited the car. He heard the trunk open and shut then Matthew heard the creak of old, unused hinges, perhaps a door being opened. Matthew couldn't help the tears that pooled at the corner of his eyes. The door to his right opened and the light above the centre console illuminated. He looked at the man who reached out for him, grabbing him around the middle and hauled him out of the car. He tossed him up onto his shoulder like he was a sack of flour and there was little Matthew could do. He prayed to god that his glasses didn't slip of his face and fall to the ground. His legs were tied together just before and after his knees so he could do little to hard the man by kicking at him. He was carried into the small building—just a hair larger than a shack. Perhaps it had been a hunting cabin at some point?—There was a small kitchen, if you could call it that which held a 'sink' (which was a spout with a bucket under it) and some cupboards. A well used table was pushed against the far wall below a window. To his left was a ragged couch and coffee table, and thankfully a small fireplace was build into the wall although it currently was not lit.
The man dropped him on the couch. Matthew looked up at him. He wished his mouth wasn't duct taped. The man reached down with a hand and wiped some of the tears from his cheek.
"So pretty," the man whispered. Oh god. He wanted to plead with the man to let him go. He tried to speak but it came up muffled against the tape. "Oh? Does pretty prize vant to speak?" The gentle look wiped off his face and was replaced with something darker. "Lets have you speak then, da?" The man ripped the tape off Matthew's face with little thought and the blonde screamed in pain. "Such a pretty little scream," the man cooed.
"P-please. You... you d-don't wa-want to do t-this!" Matthew cried, trying to ignore the pain of where the tape had been ripped off. "I...I...I c-can give you m-money, lots of m-money—,"
"Nyet! I do not vant your money!" The man thundered, causing Matthew to cower as much as he could.
"I-I'm s-sorry," He whispered. The man pulled back a rug that was on the floor, revealing a trap door. He grabbed Matthew by the arm and dragged him off the couch closer to the hidden entrance.
"You stay," He said coldly before he pushed the blonde into the hole. Matthew cried out as he hit the hard ground, but luckily it was only a few feet of a drop. Some sort of old vegetable cellar it seemed. "Good night pretty,"
"No, w-wait!" Matthew yelled, trying to turn himself towards the entrance, but before he had a chance the man had shut the door and placed the rug back over it. It was near blackness, only a few cracks of light coming in though the floorboards above. "P-please!" He tried again, but received no reply. He couldn't hold back his tears any longer. His body shook with the force of his sobs and he knew the man above him could hear as clear as day, but it all went ignored. His tears dripped down the side of his face and onto the dusty floor; his glasses fogged up and began even more filthy than they had been previously. His arms hurt from being pinned behind him and he could hardly move enough with his legs bound to take any pressure off them.
Matthew managed to doze off after a while, his sobs quieting, eyes red and puffy behind his lenses. He was jolted awake by the scraping of hinges as the door opened to the small cellar.
"Have learned lesson now?" The man asked, body looming over the opening. "You behave da? I bring you out," The man stepped down a short three stair step and reached for Matthew, pulling him once more by the arm before lifting him onto the floor above. Matthew closed his eyes before squinting as he adjusted to the brightness of the room. Now that it was light outside he could see a lot more of the room than before. The man hauled himself up and closed the opening, covering it back over with the rug. He picked Matthew up and sat him upright on the ragged couch. The man was large, bulky, with ash blonde hair and the oddest mauve coloured eyes.
"P-Please, I—," Matthew started to speak but the man grabbed his cheeks painfully.
"Do not speak to me," He growled out. "I have heard enough of whining," He let Matthew go, pushing him back against the cushions.
"B-bathroom!" Matthew squeaked out. The man narrowed his eyes at him. "I..I k-know you s-said not to s-speak, but...I.. n-need to go to t-the b-bathroom," He rushed out as fast as he could. The man continued to watch him and he squirmed in his place. He man gave a nod and moved closer to Matthew's trembling form.
"Only speak for reasons necessary then," he muttered as he grabbed the binding around Matthew's knees and unfastened the pair of them. "Stand," He commanded. Matthew pushed himself up onto shaking legs. The man grabbed him once again by the arm and let him out of the small home—if it could be called that—to a small building behind it. No, no, no. The man unclasped his wrists; still hanging onto one of them and motioned to the door with his other hand. Of course the man used an out house. There had not been any signs of power in the house. Other then the tap, but it wasn't like he had seen it working. Although depending on the area, he may not have needed power to get water anyways. He opened the door and was quickly pushed inside. Thankfully he was given use of both his hands and he made quick with his time, shoving his glasses up on his nose so he could actually see better. Not that it was any real improvement. The lenses were covered in dried tears and dirt. He quickly made use of the makeshift bathroom and knocked softly on the door as not to appear to be escaping or anything of the like. This man was big. Huge. Scary looking. Who knows what he'd do if he tried to run away. Chase him down like a lion does a gazelle he would imagine. The man cuffed his wrists back together although this time he was lucky and they were in front of him rather than pinned behind his back.
"T-thank you," He murmured softly. The man grunted in acknowledgement. Matthew flexed his arms upwards and rubbed at his neck. He was led back to the small house—shack really—and was pushed towards the water spout. The man turned the tap and after a moment or two a gush of water came out. He gave Matthew a small cake of soap to wash his hands with. Matthew shivered as he lowered his hands to the icy water, but washed his hands nonetheless. He put the wet soap into a small dish that was held out to him before taking the towel that was held out in the other hand. Matthew quickly dried his hands and then took a moment to clean some of the dirt off his glasses before he handed the towel back and it was tossed out of sight before he was led back to the couch. "T-thank you," he told the man quietly but he was ignored. He held out his hands in front of his face and blew on them in attempt to warm the digits up.
"I vill light fire, khorosho?" Matthew wasn't sure what the last word meant but he wouldn't disagree to a fire. He was chilled to the bone. There might not have been snow on the ground anymore but it was still early spring and night time. And he was missing half his clothes. He nodded in agreement. "I do not vant pretty to get sick," He looked at Matthew before he grabbed a few logs sitting on top of a wooden chest. He put them into the fire place and then grabbed some old newspapers and started fitting them between the logs before he lit a match and set them aflame. He poked at it for a few minutes while it took before he stood up. He turned and watched Matthew, who worried at his lip.
"I'm.. I'm Matthew," he squeaked out. "W-what's you n-name?"
"Ivan," he said after a while of sitting in thick silence. The logs in the fireplace started to crackle. "No more talk," He growled out lowly as he stalked towards Matthew. Once he was close enough he pressed a hand down on Matthew neck and pushed him back into the couch, leaving Matthew to franticly scratch at his hand and wrist as he tried to push him away. He grabbed at Matthew's hands with his free one and released his grip on his neck long enough to push his arms over his head. Matthew tried to suck air in, but Ivan's grip returned to his throat before even had enough time to take in a few breaths. He struggled to free his hands—of what use that would be he wasn't sure—and kicked at the man with his feet, but Ivan's grip only got worse. Ivan ignored the kicking, watching Matthew's face as he struggled to breath. The only thing that left the blonde could not even be considered a gasp. His lips were beginning to turn a blueish hue from the lack of air. "So pretty," Ivan murmured as his grip slackened and he released Matthew's wrists, moving his hand to the boys face, brushing the back of his own hand along Matthew's cheek. "So pretty," he repeated as he released Matthew completely taking a step back to watch as the younger man struggled to take in the oxygen so readily available to him now. Matthew looked at him for a moment with wide, frightened eyes before looking away. His body shook and he could not stop the tears that fell. He curled in on himself, trying to make himself as small as possible. Ivan licked his lips and took a step forward, reaching out to grab Matthew's silky locks, yanking his head back as the younger cried out in pain, fresh tears falling from his eyes.
"P-ple-please!" He whimpered out softly, but Ivan only tugged his head back harder.
"I said no more talk!" Ivan yelled as he released Matthew momentarily only to shove him onto the floorboards; pushed him onto his back; a hand securely around his neck once more as he straddled the younger male. He struck him in the face until his face was reddened and starting to puff up with bruising, his nose making a sickening crack as it was broken, blood dropping down his cheek to the floor, mixing with tears, his glasses now missing. When Ivan climbed off him, Matthew simply lay there; face smarting as he tried to calm down, to stop crying as it only seemed to make him hurt more. He hiccoughed a few times but after a pointed glare and the cracking of the others knuckles, he fought to calm himself down as quickly as he could. He kept his gaze away from Ivan's; even as the man bent down beside him and grabbed his chin to look at him. Ivan said nothing as he stood back up and went out of Matthew's line of sight. He returned minutes later twirling something silver—a hunting knife; Matthew noticed once he was close enough to him—in his hands. Matthew closed his eyes. He was going to die out here, in the middle of nowhere's with some psycho who was going to kill him. He winced as Ivan squatted down beside him and ran the dull edge of the blade down his rib cage. "Perhaps I vill cut you open and gut you," he murmured, punctuating his words with small cuts along his side. Matthew let out a shaky breath but didn't respond. The corner of Ivan's lips twitched into a twisted grin. "But, then again, you know vhat they say about blondes? They always have the fun, da?" He ran the tip of the blade down Matthew's chest; barely scraping the skin. With his other hand he flicked the button of Matthew's jeans open and tugged at the zipper. Matthew couldn't help but react to that. He looked directly at Ivan, eyes wide with fear.
"No, p-please, anything b-but—," The tip of the blade cut into Matthew's hip before moving downward in a slight curve, causing him to cry out in pain. Blood bubbled up slowly from the cut. Ivan ran his fingers though it, smearing the blood over his fingers before bringing them to his lips and licking the blood from them.
"So sweet for such a bad child," Ivan told him. "Is bad child going to learn to behave?" He asked, a grin tugging at his lips and cocking his head to the side. Matthew nodded quickly but did not say anything. "Good!" He clapped his hands together, smiling childishly. "Matvey will be good little boy and not speak until spoken to and perhaps I vill keep you locked in my room instead of cellar," Matthew was sure he would prefer the cellar over the proximity of the mans bedroom however he didn't dare open his mouth to voice that particular opinion. He gently ran his fingers over his face, flinching at the bump on his nose. He could feel everything swelling and did not want to make it worse by aggravating the man. Ivan hauled him up around the middle and soon he was leaning back against the couch once more. He felt like a rag doll with the way that Ivan could so easily lift him and move him around. His pants were falling off his hips now that they were unfastened, but he didn't dare move to pull them up. He didn't want to bring attention to the fact that he was baring even more skin. He licked at his lips, grimacing at the taste of blood. Ivan sat down beside him and curled an arm around his shoulders, pulling him closer to the large man. They sat there in the quiet for some time, before Matthew finally worked himself up enough to speak.
"I-Ivan, sir?" he whispered, barely audible. Ivan turned to him with a sharp look. "I..W-water, p-please?" He kept his eyes on his hands which were clasped together on his lap.
"Da, da, water," Ivan said after a moment, removing the weight of his arm from Matthew's slender shoulders and rising. He returned with a large metal cup, filled to the brim with icy water. He put his free hand on top of Matthew's head, tilting it upwards. "Open up," After a moment, Matthew did as he was told and opened his mouth up. Ivan pressed the rim of the cup to his lips and tilted it up. Matthew tried to swallow as much as he could of the icy liquid, but most of it escaped his mouth and ran down his chin and neck, leaving him wet and colder than before. Ivan took the cup away when it was empty and set it on the coffee table. Matthew looked down at his hands again, water droplets falling on his jeans, causing the material to darken in some spots.
"T-thank you," He whimpered softly.
"Look at mess. We clean up now," Ivan produced a cloth that may have been white at one time but was now stained with many different substances. He wiped down Matthew's neck and chest causing Matthew to flinch. Ivan tsked his tongue. "So frightened. I only want to play," He murmured as he moved the cloth slowly over the darkening bruises around his neck. Play? He only wanted to play? If this was playing Matthew didn't want to know what fighting or roughhousing was. And of course he was frightened! He had been kidnapped on his way home from work, at night by some monstrosity of a man who had tried to choke him to death and then beaten him bloody before he tried to take what little clothes he had off. Matthew kept his gaze lowered as Ivan tilted his head up. He pressed his thumb gently to Matthew's chin and leaned forward to kiss him. Matthew turned his head slightly and Ivan's lips grazed his swollen cheek instead. Ivan growled low in his throat and pressed more of his palm to the underside if Matthew's jaw while using his index finger to pry his mouth open. He moaned in pain as Ivan's fingers dug into his flesh and he closed his eyes. Ivan hummed as he slid his tongue against Matthew's prone one. Ivan pressed harder against Matthew, pushing him hard into the couch as he leaned over Matthew, nearly boxing him in. He pulled away after a moment but not before biting at his lips, tearing though the tender flesh. Ivan licked his lips and pulled back slightly as he brought his thumb up to Matthew's lip and ran it across causing Matthew to cringe.
"I-Ivan..." Matthew breathed out. His face ached and the cut on his hip stung and his stomach growled with hunger causing the blonde to flush.
"Ah," Ivan muttered pulling back completely. "I suppose I should feed you da?" Matthew said nothing as Ivan released him and walked the few short paces to the kitchen area. "I make you soup," Ivan banged around in the kitchen and went about finding something to cook with. Matthew kept his eyes trained on the coffee table before him and didn't respond. He was at a loss as to what to do. He needed to escape. That was for sure. This man was crazy. One moment he was acting all sweet and kind the next he was completely demented. Matthew let out a soft sigh. Yes. He had to get out as soon as possible. But how? How would he get out of this mans clutches? He tried to think logically. This man wanted him to listen, to behave. He had to do that. Be perfect. He had to gain his trust. Do what he said , what he wanted no matter how repulsed he might feel. Matthew sat there mulling over his thoughts for a while before Ivan crossed in front of him with a cast iron pot with a large hook to hang in the fire place. "Now, it cooks. Chicken soup is good for you, da?" He asked.
"Oh. Y-yes," He said quietly. "V-very good," Ivan turned his head to look at him, beaming. He dropped the spoon into the pot and walked towards Matthew, pausing to pick his glasses up off the floor and setting them on the coffee table before sliding in beside him on the couch and slipped an arm behind his back, hugging him close.
"Cute little Matvey," He cooed, and leaned in closer to nuzzle at Matthew's bruised neck. He twisted his bulk around so he could press a hand against the slender column of neck and pushed slightly against his jawline with his finger and turned Matthew's head towards his. Matthew closed his eyes and parted his lips slightly as Ivan kissed him softly this time. Matthew forced a moan out of himself and he placed his cuffed hands on Ivan's knees. Ivan kissed him more eagerly, but Matthew pulled back slightly, panting. Ivan leaned in again to kiss him. This time a quick, chaste kiss. He moved Matthew's hands to his groin and Matthew flinched involuntarily as Ivan pressed his hands against him. "See vhat you do to me?" He groaned softly into Matthew's ear.
"Oh...I..." He trailed off, pulling his hands away. He glanced at Ivan before looking back down at his hands, only to find them shaking.
"Oh, not to vorry pretty. I von't force you unless you anger me," He smiled with a wide grin at his own threat. Matthew whimpered nodding with understanding.
"I understand," He murmured softly. He lifted his hands to Ivan's face and stroked the man's face with the pads of his fingers. "I won't do anything bad," He promised, telling the man what he wanted to hear. Ivan's smile grew even more. He leaned down and nuzzled at Matthew's neck. Matthew shivered and after a moment he gathered his courage. "Could...Could you take this off?" He asked timidly motioning to the tight leather wrapped around his wrists, biting into the flesh. Ivan jerked back, looking at him with narrowed, accusing eyes. He looked down at Matthew's wrists and the younger avoided his gaze. "It... it hurts is all,"
"Da. Is red and bruising," Ivan replied running his fingers along the edge of the leather. He seemed to ponder the thought for a brief second before he unfastened the leather cuffs and threw them down on the coffee table. He then took one of Matthew's wrists in his hand, rubbing gently at the angry, smarting marks. He lifted the slender wrist to his mouth and pressed a kiss to the inside of Matthew's wrist. "It vill heal fast I hope," he dropped Matthew hand and pressed his own to Matthew's swollen cheek. "This as vell. Matvey, you should learn not to upset me like that," Matthew couldn't help but flinch at the touch, as gentle as it was. He turned his head and Ivan let his hand fall away. The both sat in silence, listening to the fire crackle for a while.
Ivan eventually rose and went over to the fire, stirring the pot of soup before adding another log to the fire. He returned to his seat beside Matthew and the pair fell once more into silence but unfortunately it could only last for so long. Ivan leaned in to kiss him and Matthew turned his head away and when Ivan brought his hand to Matthew's face he pressed his fingers along his jaw in order to have the younger turn his head, he refused to do as such. Ivan growled from the back of his throat, his anger rising. Matthew cringed and quickly moved his hand to rest over Ivan's one that was pressed to his face.
"I-it's not that I don't want to, but it h-hurts. My lip is pretty busted up," He stuttered out. "If you k-kiss me, it will make it worse. Please. Won't you let me heal f-first?" He asked in a voice quiet. Ivan watched him carefully as he pondered over the thought.
"But I vant to kiss Matvey now!" He let his hand drop from Matthew's face and crossed his arms over his chest like a child, pouting.
"I...I'll tell you what. L-let it heal for now, and be..before bed, you can give me a g-goodnight kiss," Ivan nodded eagerly with approval. Hmm. Perhaps he could work this to his advantage. Matthew, as much as he didn't want to to happen didn't see any other options other then allowing the man to kiss him. But if Ivan would continue to ask and Matthew could keep him in a better mood perhaps he could use it to his advantage to He felt sick at the thought but really what options did he have? His body was the only thing he had here. And this sicko clearly wanted it. And he seemed to want approval to take what he desired, at least if he was not angry.
Matthew wasn't sure what he'd do if Ivan turned violent on him again. Hell, the man had already threatened to rape him. He'd never be able to talk him out of that kind of anger. But he hoped before that happened someone would find him or at least notice that he was missing. He hiccoughed. No one was going to find him. Most of his patrons at his work place didn't even notice he was there. They just went in, grabbed what they were looking for, went to the counter looked around and either left money on the counter or just walked out without paying no matter how hard he tried to get their attention. It was like he was invisible most of the time. How in the world had he caught the attention of this psycho when he couldn't even get his own family's attention? He had to find a way out of this. But even if he did escape he knew nothing of this man, only a first name and appearance. "So..why don't you t-tell me about yourself Ivan?" He asked softly leaning forward slightly to grab his glasses off the table and carefully slide them onto his face. He really hoped his face would heal fast. He hoped that the man gave him more information about himself and found himself needing to know more. After all knowledge is power. The more he knew about this man the easier it would be for the police when he escaped.
"Da, da. Pretty Matvey, what would you like to know? I hail from Mother Russia. I have older and younger sister. I prefer the cold and I like pretty things like sunflowers and Matvey,"
"How did...When did you notice me?" He asked, almost shy.
"Oh, Matvey was so beautiful. It vas raining, pouring down and Matvey was walking in it, soaked to the bone. No umbrella. No raincoat, clothes clinging to you. I vas in coffee shop, looking out vindow and could not take my eyes away. So I follow you home. Then few days later, I see you at store, so cute in little apron. But no one notice you, they just valk by. So sad, really," Matthew couldn't stop the heat that rose to his cheeks, but was somewhat glad of the state of his face—you couldn't really tell he was blushing. He licked his smarting lips and swallowed thickly. "And now, you vith me, in my home to stay forever," Any colour that had been present, drained from his face after that added comment from Ivan.
"I-Ivan, I can't s-stay f-forever," He stuttered. "I have a job and my family—,"
"Nyet, nyet!" Ivan yelled, grabbing at his throat. "Only family is me!" He yelled, his grip tightening on Matthew windpipe. He clawed at Ivan's hand. "I do not forget about Matvey! Matvey should only think of me!" Ivan pushed him back as he released his neck and Matthew let out a sob. Ivan rose to his feet and began pacing the length of the room.
"I-I'm sorry Ivan, I didn't mean to upset you!" He cried. He covered his mouth with his hands to try and quell his sobbing.
"Nyet, nyet," Ivan responded after a few minutes of pacing. "Of course you have family. I overreact. Matvey vill be new family vith me and forget about his old one, da?" Matthew had no response to give to Ivan and there was no way he could even think of agreeing with him on it, even if he were to lie. He didn't want to lie to this man. If he reacted this way over being honest, he couldn't even picture him catching him in a lie. Matthew wasn't good at lying anyways. He took in another shaky breath. He was not going to die here. He refused to. He had to get along with this man for now. Someone would notice. Wouldn't they? Ivan was suddenly in front of him, looming.
"Up Matvey, time to eat," Matthew let himself be let to the kitchen-like area and was set into a seat at a small wooden table, pocketed with scorch marks and dents from being careless while cooking and setting things down in its surface. He sat and stared at the tables surface as Ivan retrieved the pot from the fire, setting it down on the table once he returned. He then placed two wooden bowls and spoons out before using a ladle to fill the pair of bowls. He placed one of them in front of Matthew. "Eat. Is good," Matthew's stomach growled. It didn't look good at all. Greyish yellow slop compared to what he was used to. But he was hungry. He picked up the spoon and scooped up some of the 'soup'. Ivan watched every movement he made like a hawk. He blew on the soup before bringing it to his lips and sipping at the broth. He found himself pleasantly surprised by the taste. He opened his mouth and ate some of the noodles and chunks of chicken. Ivan looked pleased with himself. "Is good da?" He asked
"Yes, it's lovely," Matthew murmured as he continued to eat. Ivan finally sat across from him and began to eat his own portion. They ate in mostly silence; the only noises coming from the pair were those of eating—slurps, spoons hitting the sides of bowls, and a content sigh from Matthew when he finished. "Ivan, that was..very good. Lots of flavor. Perhaps one day you will show me how to make it? I mean, I can make chicken soup, but it's not nearly as tasty as this," Ivan's cheeks started to pink.
"Matvey, is so kind. I vill teach you next time ve have chicken. I am glad you enjoyed it," Matthew stared at the man. Was he blushing? Surely this man wasn't really that simple as getting excited over a simple complement. It was the truth. The meal had been good. Then again it could have been his stomach talking, but Matthew had a pretty good tasting of food. His father was a fairly famous chef after all. He was used to tasting things. Matthew turned his attention to the window to his right. The sun was setting, colouring the sky with orange and red. Where had the time gone? Had he already been here nearly a day? He looked back to Ivan and hoped to god the man was a night owl. Somehow he doubted that he would have his own bed, or even a cot to sleep in. He didn't want to share a bed with this man.
"Look how pretty the sky is," He commented offhandedly, looking back to the window.
"Da," Ivan said in agreement, even though his eyes failed to look out the window and at the sky. They were watching Matthew's profile as the younger man looked outward. "Very stunning," They sat at the same for a while longer before Ivan started cleaning up. He said nothing to Matthew as he did; didn't ask for help or for Matthew to move. The blonde kept his gaze to the outside world. "It vill be bed time soon," Ivan told him when he was done putting things away and the other man tore his gaze away from the window. Matthew looked up at him, worry etched into his features. "I am not going to bed, only you for now," Matthew stood up.
"Now?" He asked.
"If you vant," Matthew nodded and stood up.
"T-that would be kind of you. I am... pretty sore right now. Perhaps some sleep will help alleviate some of it," Ivan shifted, almost looking guilty for a moment before taking Matthew by the hand and leading him to the bedroom. Ivan let his hand go and moved to what would be a dresser and took a box of matches out of his pocket. He lit the match and moved to light a lantern that was resting on the top of the dresser. He picked to the lantern and motioned to the bed before looking back at Matthew. Matthew looked down at himself, his jeans threatening to fall off his hips. "D-do you have anything I can wear to bed?" He asked, embarrassed. He refused to sleep naked in some strangers bed.
"Oh, yes, I have shirt you could vear. Be like nightgown on you," Ivan giggled at that and set the lantern down on a small nightstand beside the bed. He then moved to the other side of the room, half submerged in darkness and rummaged though what might have been a closet. He produced a oversized, long sleeved shirt; one of his own shirts, Matthew guessed and handed it to him. Matthew frowned but slipped it over his head anyways. The bedroom was a great deal colder than the kitchen since there wasn't much heat getting into the room, but the bedding looked very thick. The shirt hung off him; the sleeves went about three inches past his hands and the collar of the shirt threatened to fall down his shoulder. It did however go down to the middle of his thighs, so he was able to shimmy out of his jeans with relative ease. If only Ivan weren't there to watch his every move. He stood there for a minute in his socks and boxers and the oversized shirt. Ivan kept his eyes trained on the younger man and licked his lips. "Matvey—,"
"I best be to bed," Matthew interrupted as he took a step backwards towards the bed. Ivan followed him step for step until Matthew had his knees hit the edge of the bed. He grabbed the blankets with one had and threw them back before crawling into the large bed adding that extra distance between himself and Ivan. Ivan leaned over him and covered him up before he had gotten the chance. "G-goodnight," He murmured quietly.
"Oh, Matvey, have you forgotten?" He asked, glancing towards Matthew mouth for a moment.
"Forgotten what?" He asked.
"Is bedtime so I get bedtime kiss da?" He had forgotten that he had made that promise to Ivan. Matthew looked down at his hands.
"I'm.. sorry, it must have slipped my mind. I'm... I'm really tired Ivan..." He trailed off, hoping to not have to kiss the man. "Perhaps we can make it a good morning kiss instead?" He asked, hopeful. Ivan's face twisted into something akin to anger. Matthew froze for a moment. He had to do something and quick. He cocked his head to the side and smiled cutely. "Just kidding," He reached out and trailed a finger down Ivan's arm. He tilted his head upwards towards Ivan and waited. Ivan watched him, his eyes still narrowed. "Well? Aren't you going to kiss me goodnight?" he asked Ivan, one hand lingering near Ivan's the other clenched tightly in the bedding behind him and out of sight. Ivan's expression softened slightly and he leaned down, slotting their lips together in a soft kiss. After a moment had passed, Ivan started to push back against Matthew, slowly forcing him to lay flat on his back while Ivan towered over him. He ran his hands over Matthew's chest and down his sides before he crawled onto the bed, using one hand to help leverage himself and placed the other at Matthew's neck as he deepened the kiss. Matthew whined softly, moving his hands to push Ivan away but it did little good. He couldn't stop the tremble that took over his body. He placed a hand on Ivan's cheek and finally was able to gain his attention and the older man pulled away and took a moment to reign himself back in before he moved off the bed. He licked his lips, looking smug. Matthew glanced up at him though his lashes as he panted softly and tried to regained his breath.
"Goodnight Matvey," He murmured as he leaned down once more as he pushed the hair back from his forehead and placed a kiss there.
"G-Goodnight," He said after Ivan retreated out of the room and shut the door behind him. His heart was pounding in his chest; not only because he was still catching his breath from earlier, but... No. He didn't think he could keep this up. He couldn't lie to this man. He was shit at lying anyways. Sure, he could act shy and he could be sweet which seemed to be what he wanted. But he couldn't—wouldn't be able to keep it up for long. And it wasn't even that the though repulsed him—Of being with another man. He'd fooled around with some boys in school. Girls too. So it wasn't anything like that.
And the man wasn't ugly. He was fairly attractive to be honest—in that rugged, lumberjack slash hockey player kind of way. Matthew froze for a moment before he turned on his side, back to the edge of the bed. No, no and more no. He refused to start thinking like that. God. He had hardly been trapped here for a day and he was already starting to call his captor attractive. Whatever! Matthew removed his glasses, placing them beside the lantern on the nightstand before pushing his face into the pillow with a frown on his features. No. He had to change his train of thought. How was he going to get out of here. For real. He could possibly continue doing what he was doing. Playing along to what the crazed man wanted. Which Matthew wasn't a hundred percent sure was. Sweet and docile perhaps, like a doll. He could fight back. But then he had hardly did anything but open his mouth and now his face was going to be aching for days while the swelling went down. He was strong but Ivan was a great deal stronger. He could just wait until Ivan came to sleep and slip out while he slept. Matthew let out a soft sigh. This was never going to work. He couldn't help but laugh at himself. Only he could get into such a pickle. But on the other hand he knew if anyone could play as a doll, he could. He had to. He didn't think he could survive any other way. Ivan was crazy. With a capital C. Moody. Violent. Obsessive as well perhaps. He seemed like the type of man that if you took something away from him he'd throw a tantrum. Hell! If Matthew hadn't of quickly smoothed his tracks over earlier, he might have been bloodied again for denying the man a kiss. Why should he allow himself to be brutalized because of a kiss; something so seemingly innocent?