The most serious wounds had to get taken care of first so Ilya knelt at Vaughn's feet, gently pushing at the tender area around the wound so see where the pain tapered off. "Thank you. Can… um… can you pass me the antiseptic? And… and the thread too, it's wider than I thought it would be." He'd grabbed one of the washcloths from the shower while he spoke, pressing the already red-stained cloth against the wound. It wasn't deep, thank god, but all the sitting down and standing up had shifted the glass inside Vaughn enough that it was fairly long. "Or! Um… only get those things if you want to." His hands settled lightly on Vaughn's hips as he looked up at him, eyes wide and pleading. "I just want to get you taken care of, if you're alright with me doing that."
Vaughn's jaw clenched when Ilya began to feel around on his stomach area to see where it hurt. It didn't hurt too much besides right around the wound, which he assumed to be a good thing. He felt exhausted, and he just wanted to pass out. He tilted his head to look over to where the antiseptic and thread would be, reaching over to it. He glanced over when Ilya seemed to correct himself, but he still grabbed the items and held them out to the male. When Ilya touched him, he held his breath and looked down at Ilya through a hooded gaze. "You're doing a good job. I appreciate the help," he replied simply. It was the truth. While he did enjoy his quiet time, he could get that done later, as he really did need help in that moment. But it was a bit of a distraction when Ilya was kneeling in front of him with those puppy eyes of his. He shifted his gaze away to look at Figure for a moment to take his mind off of the sight before he embarrassed himself.
Ilya smiled at that, all soft and bright, and then he was dabbing some antiseptic into the wound as gently as he knew how. He liked the compliments. They made him feel all warm, dampening his nerves enough that he could fully focus on the task at hand. "Thank you," he murmured, running his free hand up and down Vaughn's hip lightly as he pressed the washcloth back over the wound. He didn't seem to notice he was doing it, too occupied with getting Vaughn to put pressure on the still bleeding wound while he threaded the smallest needle he could find. ". I… ah… couldn't find any painkillers, so this isn't… um… it isn't going to be nice, but I'll try to be really fast so you're not in pain for too long." He knotted the thread, glancing up at Vaughn to make sure he was okay and biting his lip worriedly when he realized the man wasn't meeting his eyes. "Just… try not to yell, okay? And tell me if you need a break."
Vaughn winced softly from the stinging feeling as the antiseptic was placed on the gash on his waist. As he watched Ilya work, he became extremely aware of how Ilya's hand brushed up and down his hip. He shuddered in the slightest under the touch, but decided that he would blame it on the cold temperature in the bathroom if questioned about it. "I'll be ok. I won't yell and I'll let you know if I end up needing a break," he agreed with a little nod of his head. He glanced back at Ilya's face, making the corners of his lips twitch up into a faint smile before he tilted his head back and shut his eyes. He mentally prepared himself for the pain he would receive, but reminded himself that it would not be the worst pain that he has felt and that it would be over with quickly.
Ilya nodded and kept petting his side s he got the needle lined up. He didn't stop as he worked his way down the wound, in fact the touch only seemed to grow bolder. For every neatly placed stitch, there was the soft drag of his hand over Vaughn's ribs, soft and soothing, until he was tying off the whole mess and groping around for some gauze to put over it.
"Hold this for me, please," he said, and when he was sure Vaughn had it he groped around the top of the sink until he found the ace bandages. "You should get ice, or… or something." He'd always used frozen peas. Damian never noticed when they went missing for a little while.
"This is going to hurt for a while. Um… sit up straight for me?" He had to start winding the bandages around to hold everything in place, which was time consuming and difficult because it put him up close and personal in a way he hadn't been before. His breaths ghosted across the soft planes of Vaughn's stomach, and every time he wound it around his fingertips brushed against the small of his back. He was flustered when he finally clipped it into place, cheeks a pretty shade of pink. "All done, I think. Can I do the rest?" His eyes flicked across the myriad of wounds left to deal with. "You… you said earlier that you do it yourself, but I like being useful."
Vaughn barely even thought about the stitches. All he could concentrate on were the occasional touches that graced his skin. He wondered if Ilya was doing it on purpose, if he knew what he was doing. He did what he was told and nodded his head at the suggestion of ice. "Yeah, there's some ice in the freezers in the main area. I'll definitely need that for my ankle, at least. I think I might have sprained the right one a little bit," he huffed with a frown on his lips.
He sat up straight so Ilya was able to wrap the bandages around his torso. Ilya had to know how he was affecting him. The tremors that went down his spine and cut off breaths that never escaped past his lips- it was so obvious. He saw the pink in Ilya's cheeks and wondered what was on his mind. His eyebrows quirked at the offer of fixing him up the rest of the way. "Sure, I suppose you can do that.' He really just had the little cut by his left brow, the split in his bottom lip, and a couple of other little scrapes that were spotted across his skin.
Ilya honestly didn't realize that he was doing it. He wanted Vaughn to be comfortable and he wanted Vaughn to be in as little pain as possible, so while one hand worked to heal the other went to soothe.
"I should wrap your ankle, then." Both hands slid down his leg, lifting it up slightly so he could get a better look at the ankle in question. He didn't notice the way Vaughn was effected by him either. Gasps and shivers were chalked up to the pain he must be in, and anything that couldn't be explained away by that was pushed out of Ilya's mind because it was impossible. "Keep telling me if it hurts, okay? And then after I take care of this we can do your knuckles and your… um… your f-face." He stumbled over the end of his sentence, realizing that he'd be holding Vaughn's face in his hand, dabbing at the split in his lip and generally being close in a way that wouldn't let him hide how flustered he got when Vaughn so much as ran a hand through his hair.
Vaughn watched as Ilya's hands passed over his hips and down to his leg to lift it. He felt vulnerable in that position, but the ankle would just have to be wrapped and then they could quickly move on. He wondered how cleaning the wounds on his face would go. He was curious to see what Ilya would do, but also nervous about what he himself would do. He would have to keep himself in check, keeping a short leash on himself and any temptations he may stumble across. His mind wondered back to what Damian said for a short moment, about how Ilya was probably offering up his body to him as some sort of payment. He had no idea if Ilya had heard that, but he didn't want to take advantage on Ilya in that way. It would be horrible for him to try and get involved with Ilya, right? Even if he wanted to so very bad?
"I will. Hopefully things will not be as bad, considering the worst of it is done and over with," he commented with a ghost of a smile on his lips.
Ilya hummed quietly, giving Vaughn a slightly brighter smile in response. It was a little twitchy around the edges, but he was genuinely happy that he'd taken care of Vaughn well and it showed in the way his eyes crinkled at the corners. "I'll be really careful," he promised as he started winding more bandages around Vaughn's ankle, hands surprisingly deft. It seemed that he was well practiced with this, though he had some difficulty figuring out how to wind it around a heel that faced a different direction than he was used to. "And I'm sure things won't be so bad when you get some ice on them either."
He moved onto Vaughn's hands easily enough as he finished, and compared to the stab wound they were blissfully easy to patch up. He washed them in the sink and wrapped them in bandaids because bandages felt like a waste and the whole time his touch was achingly tender. All his attention went into treating Vaughn with care, so much so that he adopted a sort of thoughtful expression while he worked, mouth in a soft frown and eyebrows all scrunched up.
Vaughn held his leg and foot still as Ilya wrapped the bandages around his ankle to provide a bit of support and structure for his ankle to heal. He was grateful that Ilya knew how to do all of these thing in the right way, and not the makeshift, 'would most likely get an infection later' way that Vaughn would do it at times. But that made him think about why Ilya would know how to do all of these things. The answer was obvious to him, and he didn't like it one bit. Damian was gone now, though. Ilya wouldn't have to practice on himself any more and hopefully this would be his last time patching anyone up. "Yeah, once we are done with all of this stuff I can go and grab some ice."
He let Ilya take his hands and rinse them off in the sink. Besides the bruises on his knuckles and the dried blood underneath of his fingernails, they appeared to look relatively ok. He looked at the bandaids that were placed on his hands, and it reminded him of when he was a child, falling down on the playground and scraping up his hands. His mom would put a bandaids over the scrapes, always telling him to get back out there with the other kids and remind him how strong he was. He huffed softly, turning his attention back to Ilya. "You're doing a much better job than I could have done with all of this," he commented.
Ilya gave him a shy smile, ducking his head slightly as he received the praise. It made his cheeks heat with pleasure, an experience that was altogether new and a little embarrassing, even though he trusted Vaughn not to be mean about it. He blushed at the drop of a hat around Vaughn, it seemed, and there was nothing he could do but look up at him through his lashes and try not to let it creep too far down his neck. "Oh! Thank you, that… that's very nice. It's really not so hard."
His thumb had been rubbing over Vaughn's writ absently and it was now, when he was coming back to himself a little, that he realized he'd been touching him so casually. It was harder than it should've been to stop. Vaughn was warm and soft and it was nice to feel his pulse beating sluggishly beneath his thumb. Still, he hadn't been invited to touch, and he didn't have the courage to ask, so he stopped, eyes flicking guiltily up to Vaughn's face. "I… um… I'm sure you could do the same if you wanted, so… I… ah… I'm… I'm going to work on this, now."
He reached up and then stopped himself, hand halfway to touching Vaughn's chin to tilt it up. "Sorry! I… I know I shouldn't… do that." His hand jerked forward a little to illustrate. "I just… it's easier so can… um… can I touch? Or is that not okay, because if it's not then I'm really sorry, I know I haven't been asking and that's… that's rude, and also… also you deserve nicer than that, so…" he forced himself to wrap it up. "So I'm sorry. Again. For rambling too, you probably don't like that very much."
Vaughn glanced down at his wrist as Ilya's hand left it. Ilya seemed a bit flustered. Was he thinking more about his actions now? He shook away the thoughts after a short moment. "Ah, I know I couldn't. I tried my hardest, but half of the time, my foster sister would show up and scold me for not asking for help. She's working as a veterinary assistant right now, so she knows a bit about wound care, and would fix me up sometimes," he explained a bit. There was an obvious difference between how he spoke about his foster sister and his blood related sister.
He was waiting still and patiently for Ilya's hand to reach his face, but it never did and he pursed his lips as he listened to Ilya's nervous rambling. A soft smile formed on his lips and he reached to take Ilya's hand in his own, guiding it towards his chin once again. "It's ok, it's not rude at all. I know what you're doing, so there's no need to worry about it. You're not being rude in the slightest," he started, before feeling a little bit more confident in himself, "Don't apologize for the ramblings either. It's… endearing in a way, and I enjoy listening to you talk."
Ilya went firetruck red when Vaughn took him by the hand and was almost surprised when steam didn't start shooting out of his ears like a teakettle at the word endearing. He'd never been endearing to someone before. Useful, maybe, or inconsequential—which was much nicer than being an annoyance or an object of hatred—but never something like that with no strings attached. People didn't like him, that had been the assumption he'd been operating under for most of his life, but Vaughn did and that break from the norm was a lot to process all at once.
After entirely too much time had passed he managed to grip Vaughn's chin a little more firmly in his hands, running his thumb tentatively over the curve of his jaw. "O-oh." His voice was small and squeaky and he would have liked very much to hide somewhere, if there weren't work to be done. As it was he shakily grabbed the antiseptic, dabbing it into the eyebrow cut as softly as he could. "Then… um… t-thank you?" When the antiseptic was all applied he blew on it gently, letting the cool air soothe the sting a little. It was a risky move on a stab wound, but he wasn't so worried about a little eyebrow cut getting infected. "I'm sorry for being so off, I just… I don't… I don't talk to people super well anymore. It's hard and I never… um… I never really know what to say."
Vaughn's finger tips lingered against Ilya's wrist for just a moment longer before he lowered his hand to rest on his lap. He was more aware that he was sitting there in a towel than he had been the whole time they were cleaning up the wounds. The antiseptic didn't make him flinch that time, as it was a much smaller cut. It didn't bother him as much, and he was concentrated on Ilya. His eyes fluttered shut as Ilya blew on the cut, the males breath feeling cool against his heated skin. They cracked back open when Ilya spoke up. "That's ok, I understand. I'm not the most talkative person either. Don't feel like you have to push yourself if you don't want to," he said softly.
His gaze shifted to land on Ilya's eyes. They were so close in that moment, he could practically feel the heat radiating off of Ilya's body. He glanced down at Ilya's lips for a short moment before looking somewhere else in the bathroom. "You know-.. I think I want to kiss you but… you're so fragile and I'm too concrete. I don't want to scare you," he mumbled in a low tone, bringing his gaze back to Ilya's eyes for a moment.
Ilya swallowed when Vaughn pulled his hands away, tracking it with his eyes in a way that felt just a little bit pathetic. Vaughn had touched him a lot in the past few days and they were all the same kind of touch—soft and soothing and careful—so there was no reason for him to think that he'd be left wanting. The talking took his mind off it. He listened quietly, patiently, and then Vaughn was saying he wanted to kiss him and Ilya's breath was hitching softly in his throat, eyes going wide and eager.
"You're not scary," was the first thing that his brain supplied his mouth, but it didn't seem to fit right so he tried again. "Not at all, and… and you're soft with me anyways, so it… it doesn't matter so much, if I'm fragile. And I'm not, or… or not the way you think anyways." It was ridiculous, that he could think of everything he wanted to say except for the obvious. he wanted to kiss Vaughn too, and he'd wanted to kiss them before when they were sitting together in the floor of the back room, and maybe even a little before that too. Vaughn was handsome and good tempered and he treated Ilya so well, and he still couldn't get the words to come out of his traitorous mouth. "I can take whatever you give me and I want it, I want… I want you, in whatever way I can have you."
Vaughn wasn't so sure about Ilya saying he wasn't scary. He was a cold blooded, mentally ill killer. But that didn't effect Ilya, at least not in any direct way that he could think of. He wondered how Ilya could so easily see past all of the violence to only picture the soft side of him that was never given the opportunity to blossom. He listened to Ilya's ramblings closely, eyes searching his face for any and all emotions. Ilya wanted him. That was such a strange sentence to hear- hearing that you are wanted.
His head tilted in the slightest as he lifted a hand, resting it against Ilya's jaw as he had done multiple times before that point in time. He glanced down at Ilya's lips through a hooded gaze, shifting a tad bit where he sat and ignoring the pain that shot from his side and through his nerves. He slowly leaned in, tilting his head and allowing his lips to brush against Ilya's in an experimental sort of manner. Just that little touch was enough to confirm to Vaughn that he wanted it. He pressed forward, connecting their lips in a more solid way. He was soft and ginger with his kisses, keeping things slow and low energy for the moment. He wanted to savor the first touch.
Ilya might have tacked on that he wanted him badly or desperately, or any other adjective his brain would come up with, but it turned out he didn't have to because Vaughn was kissing him. All the thoughts that had been running through his head evaporated. The world narrowed down to a few key sensations; the warmth of Vaughn's hand against his jaw and the sweet press of Vaughn's lips against his. He reciprocated eagerly, clumsy in his excitement but no less careful to keep it sweet and slow.
His hands settled in Vaughn's hair after a few moments of indecision, because even when he was getting exactly what he wanted Ilya didn't quite know what to do with it. They slipped through the soft black strands, nails scratching lightly against his scalp, and Ilya let out a soft sound, breathless and happy. When they pulled apart his eyes were sparkling. For the first time since they'd met, he seemed truly unburdened.
"That… um… that was nice." The words were shy but sincere. He gave Vaughn's hair a soft tug. His face had gone all pink again, flushed from his nose to the tips of his ears. "Really nice, can… ah… can I have another one please?"
As Ilya returned the sweet kiss, Vaughn kept his hand caressing Ilya’a cheek, the other moving to lightly rest against Ilya’s waist. As he felt Ilya’s hands in his hair, he sighed softly against the others lips. It was a calm, pleased sigh. He had always enjoyed when people played with a hair. He remembered his foster sister joking around and calling him a cat because of it, but he couldn’t help that it was so relaxing to him.
They broke away from the kiss and Vaughn’s eyes opened to meet Ilya’s gaze. His own cheeks were lightly flushed, a light pink coloring making its way to his light toned skin. The little tug to his hair just about caused him to crumble, unconsciously tilting his head a tad to have it be closer to Ilya’s hand. He looked at Ilya, the adoration obvious in his eyes. He smiled softly and chuckled at the way Ilya asked for another kiss. It was precious to him. He leaned forward and connected their lips once again. The pace of the movements was a tad quicker this time, but nothing close to being heated or agressive just yet.
Ilya shivered slightly as Vaughn's hand slid down to cup his waist, hands tugging softly at his hair as he got used to the gentle touch. Vaughn tasted a little bit like blood but mostly like mint and something sweet. The flush on his cheeks was enough to make Ilya break into a smile, one hand sliding forward to thumb at it gently. He'd never seen Vaughn like this before, flushed and smiling with his eyes gone lazy and warm, but he'd very much like to continue seeing it.
He gasped sweetly against Vaughn's lips when they came together again, pulling him in a little closer because he'd never had this before. Never had sweetness or slowness, not really. Vaughn gave it to him like it was so easy and he reveled in the tenderness of it all. He felt like he was drowning in all the affection, but in a good way. Even though his head was below water he could still breath, and excitement still buzzed down his back, making him straighten and press up against Vaughn's chest. He was firm, good to lean against, and Ilya might want to touch that too, when they had a little more time to explore. When Vaughn had a little less of a stab wound and he didn't leave Ilya's lips all red when they pulled apart.
He didn't really know what to say this time. Vaughn knew that he was happy, he knew that he was enjoying this, and there was nothing more for Ilya to say except for a quiet thank you as his hand traced patterns into Vaughn's cheek.
Vaughn kept Ilya close to him using the steady hand on his waist. He could taste metallic mixed in with the sweetness. To him, it was almost like a perfect storm. He hoped to not get too carried away because of it. They couldn’t go much farther because of his injuries, and he didn’t want to move things fast with Ilya. Taking his time, being slow and sweet, would be the best way to go about things.
He could feel the delight radiating off of Ilya. It was infectious, he would admit. He could compare it to something easy to catch, like a cold. It flooded his senses, dulling them and making it difficult to even think straight. Maybe that was just the blood loss and exhaustion, though. His lips moved in rhythm with Ilya’s and using the hand that was on his waist, he rubbed little circles against Ilya’s hip with his thumb. It was his general style- soft and sweet. He wanted to show that to Ilya, as he was able to assume Ilya had not been shown that treatment in the past.
After a moment longer, they broke away from the kiss. He gave Ilya’s lips one last little peck before resting his forehead against the others. His cheeks still felt quite warm, and the blood that had been on his lip was smeared around his mouth. His eyes fluttered open slightly to look at Ilya’s pretty face. “We should probably go and rest up. It’s been a long day,” he murmured softly.
Ilya didn't like the blood but he liked Vaughn a lot, so he could bear with it. He was being given more gentle treatment than he'd ever had in his life. Vaughn was sweet with him—his hands were light where they pulled him close, lips soft where they pressed against Ilya's—and he didn't even seem impatient about it, the way people sometimes did. He didn't act like this was a favor he was doing or an inconvenience, he just kissed Ilya like he wanted to. Ilya had never been kissed like that before.
It swept him off his feet and knocked him flat and he didn't know, exactly, how to react, so for the most part he stood there and took the affection and tried not to be too wooden in Vaughn's arms. He liked sweet a lot, and hopefully some day there would be a time where he got used to it.
Unfortunately for him, it was all over too soon. He whined when Vaughn broke away, honest to god whined, and then his cheeks went pink all over as he realized. "Oh! Y-yeah, rest… that's… that's important, but…" His hands came up, fingers curling gently against his jaw. "I… I still haven't done your lip. And now we're… we're all messed up, I mean…" His thumb slid gently over Vaughn's bottom lip, wiping off a bit of the blood. "… it got everywhere, so… um… I should fix that, before we sleep."
Vaughn's brows rose at the sound of the whine that Ilya made. The male sounded like some sort of upset puppy, and he thought it was precious. He held still when Ilya reached up to hold onto his face, pressing his lips together. "Right, right… We can just wash our faces off in the sink?" he suggested, thinking that was a quick and easy way to clean the blood off. It was also the most low maintenance thing that he could think of. He did not want to stay up and clean his wounds, he wanted to go curl up in bed.
"Well… yes, but…" He pressed gently at the cut on Vaughn's lip, wincing as a little more blood slipped down. Split lips were pretty painful, and he'd hate it if they ended up with blood all over the pillows because he'd been too lazy to help a little more. "… you're still hurt. We should at least wash it off, right?" He was already reaching for a washcloth as he spoke, dabbing the blood away gently until Vaughn's lips were clean again. "And… maybe put on some antiseptic? There's no way to bandage it but… it's better than nothing."
Vaughn continued to hold still, keeping his gaze trained on Ilya. Despite the fact that when Ilya touched his lip more blood spilled from the cut, he still smiled softly at the gentle touch. "Yeah, I guess you're right.." he hummed slowly to himself. He allowed Ilya to dab the blood off of his mouth, and scrunched his nose up at the idea of antiseptic. That would sting like a bitch on his lip.
Still, he allowed Ilya to do it so the male would be pleased. They were finished, and he was relieved. Slowly, he began to ease to his feet. It was only a couple of steps over to his cot, and he reached over to hold onto Ilya's arm in a gentle grasp. He took the few small steps into his room and eased down onto the cot, pausing to catch his breath for a short moment.
Ilya wrapped an arm around his waist as he stumbled out of the bathroom, doing his best to help support Vaughn's weight with his small frame. It wasn't the most graceful walk he'd never been on, but it didn't go too badly either, and soon Vaughn was laying on the cot where Ilya could worry over him. Worrying came easy for him, though he wasn't quite used to directing it at other people. He piled blankets up around Vaughn and then, once he was certain he was resting comfortably, pressed a soft, unsure kiss to his forehead.
"You should sleep." His hands had found their way to Vaughn's face again, thumbs running gently over his cheeks. "I… um… I'll make myself comfortable in the store, would you like me to wake you up? Or… or do you just want some rest?"
