"But… but I'm not supposed to," he protested weakly, leaning into Vaughn with a confused frown. He clenched Vaughn's shirt in his fists more tightly, grateful for the support. "It's bad. It's… impudent. And bratty. And impolite."
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Vaughn reached up to tilt Ilya’s head back up to look at him in the eyes. “It’s not a bad thing. You’re allowed to ask for things just like anyone else is allowed to,” he said, hoping the direct contact would get across the fact that he was serious
Ilya leaned into the touch instinctively, wide bewildered eyes staring into Vaughn's sincere grey ones. It hurt to realize how badly he'd been treated by Damian, but the warmth of Vaughn's hands soothed the sting. They soothed everything. "I am? You're sure?"
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“I’m 100 percent sure. It’s totally normal. You’re just.. not used to it because of your situation,” Vaughn said, his thumb brushing over Ilya’s cheek gently. He held Ilya’s gaze, despite his urge to fidget or twitch.
Ilya felt himself tearing up again and despite his efforts, fat tears began to roll down his cheeks. He took a long shuddering breath, trying to force air into his uncooperative lungs. "Why did he do this to me? Am I really that… that bad?"
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Vaughn noticed the tears instantly, and he quickly picked up one of the napkins on the table, holding Ilya’s face in one hand while he wiped the tears away with the other gently. “It’s not your fault, Ilya. He’s just a bad person, it has never been your fault.”
Ilya sniffled and wiped at his eyes, not wanting to force Vaughn to take care of him. "But he was so nice at first. He cared. And then…" He paused, taking another shaky breath. "And then we fought and he got so mean. It was my fault. I was bad and… and now I'm being punished."
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“It’s ok, let me do that,” Vaughn mumbled softly in response to Ilya wiping at his eyes. “Abusers will do that. It’s called grooming. They’ll be very sweet and loving to a person to get them to be vulnerable. Then while the person is in that state, they do a 180 and go to being abusive. It’s a tactic they use to keep a person from thinking they need help.”
Ilya dropped his hands as soon as Vaughn told him to, curling them up in his hoodie. He wanted to look down again, to pretend that he wasn't having his entire world turned upside down, but Vaughn wanted to wipe the tears off his cheeks and Ilya didn't have the heart to stop him. "You really think it… it wasn't my fault? That all… all this happened?"
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Vaughn continued to brush the tears away with the napkin, his other hand gently caressing Ilya’s jaw. “I’m 100 percent sure this is not your fault. I have seen a lot of this sort of thing. It’s normal as someone who is being abused to think it’s your fault, when really, it’s all the abuser.”
It was strange to hear and even stranger to believe. Every day for the last 2 years, Ilya had been told that this was his fault. That Damian wouldn't have to do this if he were obedient. And now Vaughn was here, all wise words and warmth. Ilya slowly stopped crying, feeling hot and squirmy in Vaughn's hands. He fiddled with the sleeves of the hoodie. "Promise?"
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When Ilya had stopped crying, Vaughn set the napkin back down on the table. He gave Ilya a tiny smile as he nodded his head in confirmation. “Yes, I promise. It’s all a form of manipulation by Damian, it’s not you’re fault.”
Ilya let out a quiet breath he didn't know he was holding, relieved. He slowly wrapped his arms around Vaughn's back again, managing to give him a watery smile in return. "Thank you for… for letting me know. I… It's helpful. To know what's real."
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Vaughn’s hand left Ilya’s cheek, and he wrapped the arm around Ilya’s waist gingerly. “Of course, you’re welcome. That’s what I’m here for- to help,” he responded. “Now, how about we get that pie?” he asked afterwards, hoping that would lighten the mood.
Ilya frowned when Vaughn pulled away from his face, but he leaned into the arm around him with a contented hum. He listened to Vaughns words with a thoughtful expression- one that lit up when pie was mentioned. "I'd like that!"
(Hey, are you still active?)
school
(oof. i was enjoying reading this as a story. don't mind me, i'm just the stalker.)
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(Hey, sorry! Work related things got me really busy, and lmaoo that’s ok to stalk)
Vaughn’s lips quirked into a faint smile and nodded his head in response. When the waitress came back over, he ordered the piece of pie for them to share. The waitress left to go and get it, and he looked back down at Ilya. “Are you sure you want to come back to my.. home with me?”
(It's fine, stuff happens. I'm glad you're back!)
Ilya half buried himself in Vaughn when the waitress came by, not eager to talk to a stranger. He stayed there after she left, looking up at Vaughn curiously as he asked his question. "Why? Do you not want me to go? I… um… I'll stay at my- at the house if that's what you want." His tone went from worried to apprehensive when he mentioned his home.
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(Yep, thanks!)
Vaughn let out a soft breath, brushing his fingers through the longer section of his onyx hair before speaking. “No, that’s not it. It’s just.. not that nice of a place,” he did his best to explain. And it was true. The abandoned gas station was messy and scattered. He never bothered to clean it up in the years he had lived there.
Ilya frowned quietly, starting to picture Vaughn's house the way he saw Damian's. Grey and oppressive and thick with the cloying scent of fear and the sickening twang of blood. He shivered, pressing closer to Vaughn. "Why… uh… why isn't it a nice place?"
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Vaughn pursed his lips a bit at Ilya’s question. “It’s just not much of a real home, you know? Anyone could look at it and say it’s barely suitable for living- even I think that,” he explained.
Ilya let out a quiet sigh of relief, offering Vaughn a small smile. "Oh! Um… I'd still like to see where you live, even if it's not… not much of a home. It would be nice to learn more about you. If that's okay with you, of course."
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Vaughn licked his lips to wet them before beginning to lightly chew on his bottom lip. “That’s ok with me,” he said, though he still felt hesitant. He would just be careful. He would make sure Ilya didn’t touch anything or find anything he shouldn’t be looking at. He had things there that could be extremely compromising to what he was doing and his identity.
Ilya's smile widened into something that almost escaped the fear he carried with him. He hugged Vaughn's arm and pinned him with an earnest look. "Thank you! I… It means a lot that you're willing to share. I know you don't… um… do this a lot. So… thanks. Again." He blushed lightly, looking down at his hands.
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Vaughn bit the inside of his cheek sharply when he was squeezed. He wasn’t too used to close contact from others, unless he was in the middle of killing them. “Like I said, I was ok with this exception,” he responded with a faint smile. After a moment, the plate with the piece of pie was set down in front of them, and he thanked the waitress.
Ilya thanked her as well, still pressed happily against Vaughn's side. He wanted to scarf down the pie the same way he had everything else, but he resigned himself to tiny bites instead. Vaughn would want the bigger share and it was a miracle he let Ilya have any of the dessert at all. "Still. You deserve a thank you for everything you've done."
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Vaughn resisted the urge to grimace when Ilya pressed up against him, that sending a sharp ache through his injured side. He picked up his fork and used it to take a small bite from the pie. He didn’t want to eat too much. He would just have to work off the calories later on.
Ilya pulled away sharply, noticing the way Vaughn had tensed when he leaned in. He scooted away quickly until he wasn't touching Vaughn at all before he returned to picking at the pie. Vaughn didn't like being touched and Ilya knew that, so why had he decided it would be a good idea to get all cuddly? He was such an idiot. "Sorry, I'll sit over here."
(hey, I noticed you were back and I was wondering if you'd like to continue this? Don't feel any pressure to respond if you aren't interested, I just thought it was a lot of fun and would personally enjoy keeping it going)
