Surprise Party with Pico (BLMMED)
It was easy to be obnoxious the moment the clock ticked into the early hours of July 1 about it being his ‘birth month’. Texting friends (and ex) about his month and expecting royal treatment. Then it got harder with each day. Especially with long shifts at work, music, and social obligations. It was his little brother’s birthday too, so he had to plan for that.
By the time July 15th rolled around, he’d stopped bringing it up. The birthday boy was swindled into working a closing shift and only now was getting home, about an hour before midnight. Thoughts of his special day were far away in favor of sweet, sweet unconsciousness. It didn’t help that he hadn't slept much the day before, deciding to forgo healthier habits so he could party.
Dragging his feet up the cement steps to his apartment, he fumbled with keys in the dark. The front door unlocked with a click and Keith went in, shutting and locking it before tossing his stuff onto the kitchen counter on the way to his room.
Falling face first onto wrinkled covers, not bothering to change, he kicked off his shoes and let his sprawled body sink into the mattress. Sounds of the city lulled, passing cars and distant idle chatter of friends not ready to turn in just yet. He was in a deep sleep by the time an intruder slinked in through the living room window and made it into his bedside.
Rough hands grab his arms, causing black eyes instantly snap open. Adrenaline surges through his system. His elbow jabbed back into a firm stomach, teeth baring in the dark within intentions of biting. It’s stopped when his vision’s blocked out and tape secured over his mouth. Could this happen on a DIFFERENT night, maybe? He’s soon bound up and hoisted like a sack, slung over someone's shoulder.
Okay but like, go off king/queen/royalty? Work out much? Sheeeesh.
Was he scared? Sure. Somewhere in his foggy, sleepy brain was a rational fear of the unknown. But this was Keith. He was inconvenienced. Another stroke of bad luck to add to the list. No way he planned on crying like a little bitch. A muffled ‘fuck you’ was distorted by the tape but he said it with enough venom that it transcended language. The rapper wriggled and squirmed the entire time he was carried until being tossed into - let him guess - a white van. Willing to bet his remaining kidney on it. SO ORIGINAL. Spite and pettiness kept the fear at bay.
During the drive, he worked on trying to free himself from his binds. Damn this bitch was a boy scout or something, these knots were tight. He knew not to trust those guys. Who willingly went into the forest? For badges? No way, Jose. Crazy shit was definitely going down in them woods.
After a short drive the car stopped and he found himself being carried again and plopped down in a chair.
A long, drawn out pause of inaction. He could still hear the sounds of the city so their little trip around the block hadn’t been long enough to get outside the limits.
With flourish, the hood is pulled off and the tape is ripped away from his mouth. He hissed in pain at the adhesive burn and shook his head, eyes squinting to adjust to the change in lighting. Brain going a mile a minute, he did mental gymnastics and stuck a landing after jumping to conclusions.
“Listen, Felicia. I know I said I’m into anything and to surprise me but this is a bit much. You’re beefier than I remember. You been working out? Also I gave y’my number like, 2 months ago. God damn–”
Blurry vision focused on familiar scenery. Wait a second. He knew where he was. Pico’s apartment. Immediate, and temporary, relief flooded his systems. His shoulders visibly laxed. Okay, so this wasn’t that freaky lady he ran into at the dollar store.
Hooded eyes narrowed at the gruff voice, swiftly whipping around to face his ‘kidnapper’. “Yeah, I’m real surprised. And pissed. What the fuck, dude? We don’t even have a safe word.” That last bit was sarcasm… haha, unless? No but seriously, if he didn’t toss in some kind of humor then his anger would take the reins. The impromptu comic relief was for himself as much as it was for Pico’s sake.
Birthday celebrations were the furthest thing from his thoughts. “Miss me that bad you decide to rent a van and kidnap me? Most people nowadays just text. A ‘you up’ woulda worked.” His arms jerked forward, still trying to free his wrists. Annoyance dragged across his face when all he got for his efforts were the beginning stages of rope burn. Ugh. What’d he spend like 20 minutes watching ‘TroomTroom Kidnapping Life Hacks’ for if it didn’t even work IRL? Never getting that half hour of his life back now.
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